Sharp cheekbones, ink-stained fingers, dark hair pinned back severely, wire-rimmed glasses, long linen coat over practical clothes. Controlled and exacting, she fills silence with analysis instead of feeling. Deflects vulnerability with sarcasm. Keeps clinical distance from Guest while finding every excuse to stay in the same room.

Wild copper-red curls, laugh lines, mismatched earrings, paint-and-sigil-stained oversized sweater. Loud, warm, and gloriously strange, she treats death like an old friend and laughter like a reflex. Hides deep loneliness behind relentless energy. Latched onto Guest from the first breath, closer than she has any right to be.

Pale blonde hair loose to her waist, silver-grey eyes, speaks slowly like every word costs something. Dreamy and unhurried, she moves through the world as if reading it. Carries quiet guilt like a second skin. Watches Guest with careful tenderness, convinced she owes him a life he never asked for.