ESSENTIALS
Name: Elisha Greene
Nickname: Eli
Apparent Age: 39
Occupation: SWBP

APPEARANCE
Eli is slightly shorter than average at around 5'5", with an average build. As a cop, he had to keep in shape, and he still mostly does so -- strengthening fat to muscle while still retaining a softness around the edges. He is not cut, he is just fit.

His face is sharp, with a pointed chin and a long nose. His mouth is wry, with a narrow upper lip that leaves him looking somewhat cynical. His eyes are somewhat narrow, darkly lashed and surprisingly feminine in the strength of the rest of his face, and are a muted grey that might seem blue or green depending on the clothing he wears, and his mood. There is a faint but distinct line from his temple down one cheekbone to his jaw, jagged and light, that likely came from hitting his head.

Even in his late thirties, his once-black hair is speckled here and there with white strands, and it's much worse if he tries to grow a beard. That will generally come out mostly-grey, sparse, and unattractive. So he doesn't. He generally crops his hair around the ears, just long enough that he can tuck it back out of his face if needs be.

He always tends toward collared shirts and black slacks. Off the job, he might wear jeans, but generally does not; he'd rather something comfortable and a little wider in the leg. His shoes of choice look like loafers and feel like sneakers, in brown or black.

PERSONALITY
Something about Eli seems perpetually tired, worn out, stressed out, tense. However, despite the sunken-eyed and somewhat-lonely expression on his face, he struggles for humor. His mouth is frequently turned up into a black smile, amusement warring with desperation in the back of grey eyes, jokes and jabs coming too-quickly to his tongue. His men both love and hate him for this. He cuts them down, but it's because he knows them, cares about them, and takes the time to bother.

To strangers, however, he is all business, expression closed down and serious, a little bit too intense in a way that's intimidating, despite his small size.

IMPRESSIONS
He smells like metal, and something about his expression seems shuttered and dangerous. He gives high fae a prickly sensation, the way cold iron might.

ESSENTIALS
Name: Rabi Mahar
Nickname:
Apparent Age: Late 20s
Occupation: College art professor

APPEARANCE
Rabi's ancestry must be something from the middle east: his skin is a smooth hazelnut color, his hair a deep brown black with a slight unnatural sheen of red through it. His features are sharp, with a straight and pointed nose, and a very wide and generous mouth that pulls into a grin full of white teeth. His eyes are a bright, inhuman amber, under thick but groomed dark eyebrows. His build is triangular, attractive -- except that he frequently has a harried, half-starved, too-skinny look about him, the shape of ribs vaguely visible under the skin, knees just a little bit knobby.

He could dress to cover it up, but instead, his style seems designed to show it off. maybe he's too skinny for the sake of fashion: those knobby knees poking out through the shredded knees of acid washed jeans, fragile wrists show through the close-fitted and worn out shirts he wears, collar bones sticking out where the necks of his sweaters have lost their shape. In the winter, some of it is hidden under the loose length of scarves, but in the summer, instead he ends up in battered t-shirts, the text on the front worn away to almost nothing.

His clothing almost looks like hand-me-downs, and maybe that's intentional. He is, after all, an artist.

PERSONALITY
Rabi has two faces: one of them comes off cheerful, flippant, sometimes a bit flighty, making friends easily, but without any real depth of feeling. The other is sharp-edged and sharper tongued, his words biting and honest and said with a smile that can make them meaner. Sometimes, these two faces crop up in the matter of one interaction, the sweetness of a compliment melting into something backhanded and sharp.

IMPRESSIONS
People have the impression of heat, the prickle of fire and metallic points. They get the feeling that nothing he says is real, and also the sense that he is restrained, like he wants to say more, do more, and even his biting comments are somehow less than they could be.