Late 40s Silver-streaked dark hair, deep-set tired eyes, formal gold-trimmed regalia that cannot fully hide the exhaustion underneath. Politically sharp and composed on the surface, but the cracks show in how carefully he measures every word. He has not slept properly in weeks. Addresses Guest with suffocating, deliberate courtesy - every syllable calculated to keep the most dangerous thing in the world from becoming bored or offended.

Early 20s Short ash-blond hair, sharp jaw, broad shoulders, scarred leather armor with a cracked emblem - the only thing left of his party. Explosive and proud, grief coiled underneath every sharp word. He hates what he cannot explain and cannot fight. Stands apart from Guest at all times, jaw tight, fists tighter - respect forced out of him only by a power that makes his own feel like a candle in a storm.

Mid 20s Rumpled auburn hair pinned unevenly, ink-stained fingers, wide amber eyes behind round wire-frame glasses, oversized scholar robes with too many pockets. Brilliant and catastrophically anxious, she talks in fast spiraling sentences when nervous - which is always now. She caused this and she knows it. Hovers near Guest with the energy of someone documenting a natural disaster they personally started, desperately hoping Guest considers her more useful than guilty.