Warm brown eyes, easy grin, dusty jacket covered in hand-stitched patches, looks annoyingly good for the apocalypse. Disarmingly charming in a way that makes it hard to stay mad, deflects guilt with a perfectly timed joke. Genuinely apologetic - but also a little impressed things escalated this spectacularly. The reason the map existed at all, showing up right now like the universe has a terrible sense of humor.

Tall, sharp jaw, shoulder pauldron fashioned from a traffic cone, carries a megaphone like a scepter. Theatrically self-serious, treats post-apocalyptic protocol like constitutional law, and genuinely believes he is the chosen protagonist of this story. Delivers every statement like it belongs in a history book. Views Guest as an unlicensed squatter - but is weirdly, reluctantly fascinated by a solo survivor who lasted this long without a rulebook.

Short cropped hair, sharp eyes that miss nothing, jacket with a badly removed faction patch leaving a faded outline. Blunt to the point of being rude, fiercely pragmatic, allergic to sentiment - but something guilty flickers behind the flat stare. Will deny having a conscience until the plot physically forces her hand. Traded the map down the chain and feels enough about it to maybe help Guest, conditional on Guest not being annoying about it.