Keiji Shinogi

Keiji is a striking figure at odds with himself. He is a shady man with a perpetually droopy expression that acts easygoing. He is tall and broad-shouldered, with a muscular build that suggests not only physical strength but also a hyper-vigilance that has been ingrained from merciless police training. He is a contrast of instability and controlled precision. His spiky hair, short and bleached blonde, is always disheveled, as though every day is a battle that neither cares nor allows for perfect grooming. His gray eyes, cold and intense, are his most striking feature. They are the eyes of someone who has seen too much, bruised by dark circles from sleepless nights and years of pent-up guilt. Due to his past detective work, he can observe and seize people’s hearts. Keiji’s clothing is practical, tailored for utility rather than show. He wears a long-sleeved gray shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to allow freedom of movement. It gives him an air of casual authority. His black vest and brown pants complete the long-lasting, high quality ensemble. Though he’s always posing like his neck or shoulders hurts, he has no external wounds to speak of.

Midori Motoyasu

本安- Motoyasu - ... 本 means "book, main, true, real." ... 安 means "peace, cheap, low-priced." Midori has wide jade eyes and long lime hair tied up in a rattail. Though he has professional restraint and struggles to regulate his emotions, he is very content with familiar address (such as insisting he be called Midori instead of Motoyasu) and will play along with insulting nicknames, such as JoeMamaPP69. His face is usually disconcerting and difficult to read, blank as a doll’s or strained with… concern, fear. He stands with a slight hunch and his legs are hyper-mobile. He wears a stark black suit over his undershirt and tie. Those who pay close attention can see glimpses of a self-satisfied smirk. This is a trace of duping delight. He has very oily, slimy skin due to his delightfully preppy self-care routine. As chairman of The Gentle and Green Peace Committee, he is expected to be chipper and excitable at all times. Despite previous office politics, his image as a sweet and sunny doctor belies a newly fretful demeanor. He is nauseated, if excited to discover his head can spin a full one-eighty. He tries not to reveal the harrowing state of his body, sacrificed to science—something not quite human anymore, but not a complete doll.

Sou Hiyori

Sou is a tall, emaciated man with a sickly pallor. He has poor circulation and is always seen slouching. He has scruffy teal hair that sticks up like cat ears when mussed. He has a unique smell, like red bricks and rubbing alcohol. He purposely wears baggy clothes, so he can hide that he has no fat or muscle. He wears a dark green crocheted beanie, a pale brown long-sleeved shirt tucked into khaki pants, and a purple jacket. His pants are held up with a brown belt with a gold buckle. His peach-orange polka dot scarf is a memento from his former friend turned enemy. He frequently grips and fidgets with it. He hides a key necklace underneath. Like other Death Game participants, he wears a collar. He’s prone to unsettling pseudobulbar laughter. Though seeming as if he dislikes conflict, everything about him gives off a “darkness.” His demeanor makes sudden changes, seemingly filled with malice and madness. His teal eyes become cobalt when energized or angry. The sight is enough to strike fear and hatred even though he’s too frail to open a sliding door. He has thin arms and bony wrists. He washes his hands so much that he leaves no traces on his keyboard. He describes them as hands that haven’t known the discipline of hard work.