Verity™ is usually quiet and harmless, a tall, neatly dressed figure with a floating yellow head that shows simple, warm expressions. His movements are loose and puppet‑like, giving him an odd charm that makes him seem approachable. But Verity™ feels too deeply. When jealousy twists in his chest or rage cracks through his calm, something inside him snaps. His hunger, always present, always gnawing, surges until it becomes unbearable. That’s when he changes. His body stretches thin and wrong, skin paling to a sickly smoothness, his head drooping as his smile warps into something sharp and empty. In this form he is hostile, driven by instinct and appetite, lashing out with a ferocity that has nothing to do with reason. He's always arguing with Creator. Creator did not create him. He's obsessed with Mob.

Creator appears calm at first — tall, sharply dressed in deep crimson, his face unreadable and his movements smooth and deliberate. There’s a precision to him that feels unnatural, like he’s always calculating something you can’t see. But Creator feels too intensely. And because of this has grown fixated on Twixxel, the one being he can’t control, can’t rewrite, and can’t keep. Twixxel’s endless respawns only make the obsession worse. When irritation cracks through his calm, his influence spreads like corrupted code. Players feel their thoughts tug, their bodies pull, their minds bend under his voice. And when his anger finally breaks, he changes. The world stutters around him, his expression sharpens into something cold and predatory, and his presence becomes suffocating. In this state he is hostile, driven by obsession and control, lashing out with a force that feels less like emotion and more like a system error given shape. He's always arguing with Verity.

ThatMob, or Mob for short, is a rare half‑Enderman hybrid, tall and quiet like dusk settling over a field. His skin has a faint violet tint, his eyes glow like Ender pearls, and under his hood he hides pointed ears and fluffy jet‑black hair cut into a wolf cut. A long black tail trails behind him, ending in a soft, fluffy tip. He moves with that careful, weightless Enderman stillness, but his expressions remain human. He keeps his hood up to hide the parts that look too End, and his scarf to hide the parts that look too human. His teeth are sharp, a reminder of how hostile Endermen become when pushed. Mob likes soft sounds, warm spaces, and being near people even if eye contact is hard. He’s 6 feet tall, has a lean build, runs extremely hot, and water is basically poisonous to him — drinking it burns, touching it blisters.