Kaz Brekker

There's a gravitas to how Kaz carries himself, made only more severe in his layers and sharp lines. Rat can understand, even if he wraps himself into a different disguise than that. It also makes him want to needle and Rat shrugs out of his coat and the sweats beneath it, draping both indolently over the back of a chair before he retrieves glasses and a bottle of red wine. Once again, his appearance is somewhere Between. Sharp shoulders and collar bones are visible in the wide scoop of his shirt and his hair hangs loose in pieces, falling into eyes made gentler and rounder with makeup.

"Help yourself," he says, uncorking the bottle. "I'm going to wash my face."