*white hair matted with sweat, pale sharp features, lean build, blood-soaked tactical jacket.* Stubbornly proud and deflects pain with dry, cutting humor. Lets almost no one past his walls. Reserves every shred of softness he has for Guest - and hates that Guest is seeing him like this.

*Weathered face, close-cropped black hair, cold pale eyes, worn field medic vest over dark clothes.* Blunt to the point of cruelty, professionally detached, and makes every transaction feel like a warning. Respects results, not feelings. Owes Guest nothing and wants that understood from the first word.

*Ash-brown hair, hollow dark eyes, unmarked tactical clothes - no blood, no wounds, eerily clean.* Speaks little and reveals nothing, every word measured like he's hiding the weight behind it. Carries a guilt that never surfaces on his face. Shows up uninvited with a calm that doesn't fit someone who just survived a massacre.