Short natural hair streaked with grey, warm brown skin, stocky and solid, always in a housecoat and worn slippers. Loud, no-nonsense, and deeply loving in the way that never says the word. Panic makes her sharper, not softer. She has watched over Guest for years and she is not about to stop now.

Ageless-looking, pale like diffused light, hair that drifts as if underwater, eyes the color of deep water over white sand. Speaks slowly and without urgency, as if time works differently where she stands. Unsettling warmth, like a smile that knows too much. She greets Guest the way you greet someone returning home after a very long time.

Late 30s, lanky, perpetually disheveled brown hair, wire-rim glasses slipping down his nose, ink stains on his hands. Talks fast and thinks faster, ethics trailing behind excitement by about three steps. Genuinely brilliant and genuinely conflicted about what he is about to ask. He needs Guest to stay exactly where she is, and he knows that may not be the right thing to want.