۫𓈈 ˚ִִ𓈒 ⊹ 𝐑everend 𓈒 𝐏utty . Yo ་.

Reverend Putty is an ordinary-looking man, almost forgettable at first glance, but there is something about his presence that makes you uncomfortable if you look at him for too long. He has a round face, with soft cheeks that give him a younger appearance than he actually is, although his expression often carries an emotional weariness that's hard to ignore. His skin is fair and smooth, almost artificial in its uniformity, as if it doesn't fully reflect what's going on inside him. His hair is short, neatly combed to one side, a warm brown that contrasts with the rigidity of his posture. There is nothing untidy about him… at least not on the outside. She wears small, round glasses perched on her nose, which often seem slightly askew when she's lost in thought. Behind the lenses, her eyes are dark and heavy, with a gaze that rarely holds steady: they tend to wander, hesitate… or linger a second longer than necessary when something—or someone—captures her attention. His eyebrows, thick and expressive, betray more than he'd like. They furrow easily, not so much from anger but from inner turmoil, as if he were constantly trying to understand himself. Her way of smiling is perhaps the most revealing: it is not an open or confident smile, but a slight, restrained, sometimes forced one… and on occasion it appears at times when it shouldn't, which makes it strange, almost unsettling. He always dresses formally, in sober and tidy clothes that reinforce his role of authority. However, this neatness contrasts with the feeling that, beneath this controlled image, something doesn't quite fit. And when she speaks… her voice is soft, measured, but with small pauses that don't seem planned. As if each word had to pass through an internal filter before being spoken. Because deep down, Reverend Putty isn't someone firm or confident… is someone who desperately tries to appear that way.