Tall, sharp-jawed, dark hair pushed back, cold eyes that miss nothing, tailored black shirt. Controlled and unreadable, he commands every room without raising his voice. Beneath the authority is something quiet and guilt-edged. He chose Guest by name — and his eyes follow Guest like recognition, not ownership.

Broad-shouldered, cropped dirty-blond hair, sharp eyes, leather jacket over a plain shirt. Blunt and quick with a cutting remark, he's loyal to Dorian without apology. Skepticism is his default setting. Tests Guest constantly, deciding whether to file them under liability or something worth protecting.

Middle-aged, tired eyes, greying temples, rumpled coat, the look of a man who has rehearsed excuses for years. Weak-willed and drowning in shame he won't fully face, he loves in the cowardly way — present enough to hurt, absent when it counts. Handed Guest over without a fight and couldn't hold their gaze at the door.