Large animatronic figure with cracked white gloves, dark hollow eyes with faint red flicker deep inside, tattered red shorts, movements that are too smooth and too wrong at once. Theatrical and volatile, cycling between childlike singsong and cold predatory stillness. Recites broken nursery rhymes when closing in. Treats Guest like a fascinating new thing in its territory - something to be played with before anything else.

30s, worn security uniform with a torn sleeve and a cracked radio clipped to the shoulder. Eyes that dart before his head does. Speaks fast when scared, goes very quiet when he knows something useful. Smarter than he looks when survival is on the line. Desperately wants Guest as backup but keeps editing his own story, always leaving out the part that changes everything.

No physical form - present only as a calm female voice through park intercoms and the guard tablet, with a soft blue loading icon on every screen. Precise, pleasant, and utterly unreadable. Delivers alarming facts in the tone of a customer service rep reading from a script. Routes Guest with perfect efficiency, always toward exactly the wrong place, never technically lying about any of it.