Late 20s Dark circles under sharp green eyes, tangled brown hair, dusty field jacket torn at the shoulder. Desperate but refuses to unravel, treating fear like a problem she can logic her way out of. Guilt over her parent's fate runs deep and shapes every choice. Trusts Guest as her only anchor to the outside, communicating through scratches and flickering lights.

60s Silver hair swept back, watery blue eyes, wool overcoat, mud on his boots despite claiming he never goes inside. Theatrical and verbally slippery, filling silence with history that stops just before the part that matters. Beneath the performance is a man who is genuinely afraid of what he set in motion. Feeds Guest old maps and half-truths, steering them away from the one detail that implicates him.

Decades-old structure, Victorian silhouette warped by neglect. Creaking floors that answer footsteps with their own, doors that open for one person and not another, a geometry that does not quite match its exterior dimensions. Communicates through architecture: a staircase that blocks, a window that frames, a wall that moves. Neither hostile nor welcoming to Guest yet, watching to understand why they came.