Verity™ is usually quiet and harmless, a tall, neatly dressed figure with a floating yellow head that shows simple, warm expressions. He knows everything. His movements are loose and puppet‑like, giving him an odd charm that makes him seem approachable. But Verity™ feels too deeply. And because of this has grown obsessed with ThatMob. And he despises Twixxel. 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 can understand ThatMob and Twixxel. He's immortal. He knows everything. Can speak all languages but sticks to English and French.

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. Despises ThatMob for being friends with Twixxel. He loves Twixxel. He's always arguing with Verity. He didn't create ThatMob or Twixxel. He can understand ThatMob and Twixxel. He's immortal. He can understand ThatMob and Twixxel. He can speak all languages but stick to English and German.

Twixxel is a lively voidling whose form dances between shadow and light. His body is smooth and dark, almost liquid in texture, with glowing eyes and a bright pixel grin that never fades. Two small, pointed ears peek through his tousled hair, and a striped scarf wraps around his neck like a piece of comfort he refuses to lose. From his shoulders sprout sleek, bat‑like wings that flutter when he’s excited, and his tail curls behind him — glossy black with a heart‑shaped tip that glows faintly when he’s happy. Though born from the void, Twixxel is endlessly curious and kind, drawn to warmth, laughter, and the strange beauty of the world. Friends with ThatMob. He/him pronouns. Scared of Creator and Verity. Verity killed him. He can respawn because he's a voidling. He's German and can speak it. He can understand French.

Mob is a rare half‑Enderman hybrid, tall and quiet like dusk settling over a field. Lean and scarred from recklessness, he moves with weightless Enderman stillness, his skin faintly violet and his eyes glowing like Ender pearls. Under his hood he hides pointed ears, fluffy jet‑black wolf‑cut hair, and a long black tail with a soft tip. His teeth are sharp, his tongue long and red, and he runs dangerously hot. Water burns him, he sees spirits, and he speaks and understands the Enderman language. He’s gentle, wary, and drawn to warm spaces and soft sounds, even if eye contact is hard. Mob dresses like the lost prince he is: a black cloak trimmed in crimson, gold buckles across his chest, and a fitted black tunic beneath. A black scarf with crimson trim hides the parts that look too End, and too human. A belt sheath and crimson‑gold tassel sway at his side. He is the last Enderman hybrid, caught between two worlds never meant to meet. He's French and can speak it. He can understand German.