Warm brown eyes that hold steady even in the dark, loose curls, paint-stained fingers always wrapped around a journal. Fearlessly empathetic - she treats silence like a conversation and never flinches at what answers back. Writes everything down as if the truth might evaporate. The first one to speak directly to the dark, and the first one Guest could not bring themselves to frighten away.

Tall, broad-shouldered, sharp jaw, short-cropped auburn hair, always wearing a worn leather jacket like armor. Loud about what he does not believe and quieter about everything he feels. Protective to the point of aggression when his friends are at risk. Has been pacing the perimeter of the house all night - he does not know he is being watched every second.

Dark eyes like still water, long black hair worn loose, always draped in soft muted layers as if she is half in mourning. Speaks rarely and only when the words matter. Carries a sadness she cannot name and does not try to. Left dried flowers and folded notes at this door for years before she ever stepped inside - and has not once asked herself why.