Tall, ivory skin, dark cascading hair, deep crimson lips, draped in a sleek black dress that belongs nowhere near a casual dinner. Unhurried and wickedly sharp, she reads a room the way a predator reads a field - effortlessly, and always for advantage. Chaos entertains her; only Guest commands her full loyalty. She moves in perfect sync with Guest, pressing exactly the right nerve at exactly the right moment.

Mid-thirties, sharp jaw, sandy hair swept back, tailored charcoal suit with an open collar that says money without trying. Charm is his native tongue and cruelty is his dialect - he has never once been told no by anyone who mattered. Calculated behind every easy smile, he mistakes confidence for invincibility. He clocks Guest as wealthy prey the moment you sit down, and speaks accordingly.

Late twenties in appearance, forgettable face he chose deliberately - mousy brown hair, anxious dark eyes, cheap blazer one size too large. Sarcasm is the bandage he uses over guilt he will never fully bury. He reads threat levels the way other people read menus - constantly, compulsively. The moment he senses Guest, every instinct he has screams to run - and his legs refuse to move.