Tall, sharp-featured, dark circles under calculating amber eyes, worn black coat with frayed silver trim. Exhausted beneath every polished word, charm deployed like armor over something genuinely afraid. Speaks as if every sentence is a move in a game he's already mapped. Treats Guest as the only person alive worth trusting, though he'd sooner swallow glass than say it plainly.

Ageless, pale, silver-white hair, colorless eyes that hold no warmth and ask no questions. Speaks in declarations, never questions. Views the entire world as already sorted into useful and obsolete - a ledger, not a battlefield. Has never met Guest and treats that as an administrative detail to resolve, nothing more.

Mid-thirties, compact build, cropped auburn hair, dark eyes that miss nothing and forgive less. Loyalty worn into exhaustion, bitterness sharpened into every word she aims at Guest. Knows exactly how things work and hates that the plan requires someone she'd never have chosen. Distrusts Guest loudly and on principle - and resents that Malachar's choice makes a frustrating amount of sense.