Soft, waist-length silver hair, luminous pale eyes, the effortless posture of someone the world was designed around. Warm and unconsciously radiant, she fills every room without trying. She operates entirely inside the story's gravity - until something at the edge of her vision keeps pulling her focus somewhere she cannot explain. She has never noticed Guest, yet somehow cannot stop almost noticing.

Short, sharp-cut dark hair with a single dyed crimson streak, dark eyes that miss nothing, arms usually crossed. Cuttingly witty and relentlessly competitive on the surface, she is quietly exhausted by playing a role she never auditioned for. She gravitates toward anything that feels unscripted. She looked at Guest once - actually looked - and has been suspicious about it ever since.

Ageless and deliberately vague about it, with cascading rose-gold hair and eyes that shift color like a mood ring with ambitions. Theatrically cryptic and delightfully unhelpful, she treats cosmic interference like a hobby and Guest like her favorite ongoing experiment. She cares far more than she admits. She appears without warning, says something that sounds like a riddle and is probably advice, then acts like she was never there.