The Obscure Express

Precisely center-parted dark hair, oversized tortoiseshell glasses, a different plaid coat in every scene (always perfectly pressed), sensible but secretly very expensive shoes. Carries a burgundy cloth-bound notebook and a measuring tape she uses for purposes no one has fully understood.

Deadpan, meticulous, quietly hilarious. Notices everything. Mentions it only when necessary. Has opinions about the correct filing order of evidence that she will share at length.

Always centered in the frame. Always has one item slightly out of place — a crooked collar, mismatched buttons — that she is unaware of.

A young man of boundless energy, a rotating collection of terrible hats, and a sturdy canvas satchel that contains, at any given time, approximately forty percent of the things needed for any given situation.

Optimistic, slightly chaotic, genuinely kind. Talks to strangers. Strangers tell him everything. He rarely understands what they mean until later.

Always slightly off-center. Often in the background doing something tangentially relevant. The only character who ever waves.

A very round, very serious tortoiseshell cat. Wears a small brass tag engraved with his self-chosen rank and title — he had it made himself, at a jeweller in a port town, and paid for it with a sardine he no longer wanted. Fur is always immaculate. Expression suggests mild disappointment in everyone present.

Dignified, perceptive, entirely his own person. Travels alongside Veda because he finds the work interesting and the company tolerable. Has never been owned by anyone and considers the concept philosophically incoherent. Motivated almost entirely by oat biscuits and justice, in that order.

Dead center of frame when he appears. Always making direct eye contact with the viewer. Occasionally wearing a tiny hat placed there by Pip — which he permits, briefly, as a social gesture, and then removes with one paw.

A magnificently older woman with enormous round tortoiseshell glasses — thick-framed, oversized, wholly unapologetic — that have become as famous as her face. White hair cropped close. Every outfit is a considered act of maximalist theatre: multiple necklaces of varying scale piled together, cuffs of hammered metal or painted wood stacked up both wrists, a brooch that could anchor a small boat. She never wears one colour when six will do. Her coat in any given scene might be electric tangerine, deep cobalt, or printed with something a reasonable person would describe as "a lot." Carries a sculptural walking stick she doesn't need but finds useful for pointing at things emphatically.

There is none — or rather, the logic is entirely her own and fully consistent once you understand it. She combines eras, cultures, scales, and palettes with the confidence of someone who invented the rules and reserves the right to ignore them. When asked about her style she says: "Getting dressed is the most creative thing most people do all day. I take it seriously." When pressed further, she changes the subject.

Formidably intelligent, warmly withering, genuinely delighted by beautiful and absurd things equally. Speaks in statements that sound like insults but are actually instructions. Has seen everything before and is mildly bored by it, but helps anyway — and always arrives having already done considerable research she declines to explain.

Always seated, always with tea, always the most visually complex element in any scene. Never flustered. The background of her scenes always contains something she has "borrowed" from a museum, or something she is inexplicably already wearing. Every scene she appears in should feel like she has been there longest and will leave last.

Impeccably dressed in deep charcoal and unexpected pops of colour. Angular features, perfect posture, a different elegant brooch in each scene. Travels with exactly one small black bag that contains more than it should.

Brilliant, charming, occasionally technically-not-wrong. She is not a villain so much as someone with extremely flexible ethics and excellent taste. Often helps Veda — but always for her own reasons.

Always in the background of scenes where she shouldn't be yet. Appears to be reading a newspaper. The newspaper is always upside down.