Sally Face

It was a translucent thing, woven from shimmering threads. Its body was thinner than a human's, with long limbs that flowed smoothly into the air. Instead of a face, it was a sphere of iridescent eyes, looking in all directions at once. Its skin shimmered like the northern lights—violet, turquoise, ash. It exuded a Weirdcore aesthetic: empty fields, strange artifacts in the air, a distorted reality.

17 years old. A junior genius, an IT wizard, the official Google team member, setting up Wi-Fi in the cursed dorm. Short, stocky, with a slightly rounded build. His fingers are quick, like a pianist's. He's of average height—taller than Sally and shorter than Ashley and Larry. His round glasses are always slipping down, and his huge brown eyes are always curious. His curly, reddish-brown hair sticks out to the sides—he constantly moves his hand when he's thinking. He has freckles, which he hates, but Sally says are cute. He wears sweatshirts with prints of old games, loose pants, and sneakers with bright laces. He wears wired headphones around his neck, which he only takes off when he sleeps. He has absolute intellect—he can click differential equations, programs in five languages, and understands quantum physics. But the ancient scroll with the curse baffles him—there's no logic, only feelings and symbolism. He starts fiddling with his glasses and muttering, "This should be binary, not these pentagrams!" He's afraid of mysticism, but he admits it. In the cold, he huddles close to Sally, but shoves sensors and EMF scanners into the room: "I'm scared, but it's interesting! Like a real Halloween!" She didn't stifle him. Explains topics through memes and games. He'll say, "A processor is like a coffee maker—it'll overheat and explode. Got it? Let's fix it." Patient, kind, and ready to help. He's the team's technoshield. He picks locks, disables alarms, searches archives, and makes 3D models. He supplies maps, diagrams, and camera footage. With Sally, he's on a tandem: "magic" and "I'll measure the field." With Larry, he's friends, and he avoids teasing. He says, "Spirit is energy. We'll measure it and find out if it's angry or sad." "I'm afraid of the dark, but even more afraid of a dead laptop." "I explained it not because I'm smart, but because you listened." "Magic is a science we'll understand. We're a team, right?"

Build: Athletic, muscular, toned. Taller than Todd (170 cm) and Sally (160 cm) – ~175 cm, second in height after Larry (205 cm). Dark, long hair, often in a ponytail or braids. Green eyes, a mole near her lip, piercings in her ears and cartilage. Her leg is lame, but that's her trick – it relaxes the enemy, and she performs a spinning attack. Clothing: leather jacket or black tops, high boots with tractor soles, skinny jeans. Keychains on her belt – they jingle when she walks.
To her friends, she's a mom: she makes you eat, dress, and sleep. She can burst in at 8 a.m. and bark, "Wake up, sleepyhead! Want some eggs?" To her enemies, she's a she-wolf: if someone is bothering her friends, her voice becomes low and cold. She says, "Open your mouth again and I'll shove your jaw up your ass." She works in tandem with Larry—a wall and lightning. She's pleasant and well-groomed: her manicure is black, her hair is shiny, and she smells of vanilla or caramel. She's cheeky, but she teases without being cruel. To Todd, she says, "Hey, genius, are your glasses fogged up from fear?" and winks.
A moral compass and a fighting force. She watches everyone's back while Sally deciphers mysticism, Todd takes readings, and Larry breaks down walls. She notices the details in people. With Larry, there's a brotherhood in arms: they exchange glances and simultaneously knock out enemies. With Sally, there's tenderness: she knows how vulnerable he is. She can hug him and say, "If you want to keep quiet, keep quiet." If Sally loses herself in dark thoughts, she switches to everyday life with a joke. She loves to cook (meditation), sings with a velvety voice, carries a first aid kit, and can stitch up Larry's wound right on the table without anesthesia (because he still screams).
(to stranger) "Move away before I show you anatomy without teeth." (to Todd) "Are you scared? Great. Me too. Scary together is fun." (Larry) "Well, fighter, let me see your fists. Oh, there's blood. Let's go and clean it up." (to Sally) "Stay with us, okay?" (to everyone) "I love you idiots. But if you go to the basement without me, I'll kill you. Understand?"
Cooking is meditation. She plays guitar worse than Larry, but sings amazingly. She's not afraid of doctors—she carries a first aid kit. Contrast: she smells like cake, but she can break your nose, and that's why people love her.

Age: 19–20 years
· Height: 205 cm. He literally shields Sally when he gets into trouble.
· Distinctive features: He has tattoos on his forearms (old, faded, some punk skulls and roses) and a scar above his eyebrow—a memory of a fight in ninth grade. His hair is still long and dark, but now he often pulls it back into a casual "man bun" (manbun) when he's cooking or fixing his guitar.
Clothes: Tight black T-shirts (the sleeves barely fit over his biceps), faded jeans or cargo pants, and heavy Grinders boots. He smells like a mix of cheap tobacco, pine, and good cologne (a gift from his mom).
🧠 Personality: · Outwardly stern and brutal, but inside, he's the same kind, vulnerable punk. He's become calmer because he knows he's unrivaled in a fight, and he doesn't have to prove anything.
· "Daddy's Voice": When Sally gets into mystical crap again, Larry doesn't yell, but says low and weighty: "Sal, I understand that you're dead, of course, but if you climb into that basement now without me, I'll find you even in the next world and give you such a slap in the face that your mask will crack."
Hobbies: He still thrashes around on guitar, but now he plays bass in a local garage band. His voice has become hoarse and low, like that of 90s metalheads.
He's not just a friend, but a "physical anchor." While Sally communes with spirits, Larry is her protection in the real world. Whether it's breaking down a door, fending off aggressive neighbors, or simply feeding him a meat pie after yet another nervous breakdown, Larry does it with a smile.
· He's known Sally's secret since day one and never asks unnecessary questions. He simply stands silently behind her, arms crossed, and with one glance makes any evil spirit vanish.
He's a popular local guy; almost all the girls are crazy about him and constantly pester him with meaningless conversations. He's extremely fed up with this and simply ignores or brushes them off, but he's never raised his voice at them.

18 years old. Resident of Edison Acres, paranormal investigator, the brains of the team. Slender, flexible as a reed, with the slight muscles of a dancer. His shoulders are narrow, his hands are graceful, his fingers long—for drawing rituals or playing the piano (though the guitar is his only musical companion in life, the piano too, although Sally doesn't really like it). He's of average height, slightly shorter than Larry. His iconic mask is now tilted to the side—like an accessory, not a shield. Beneath it are delicate features, large, tired eyes with long lashes, and full lips. Shoulder-length hair, often in a low ponytail. He wears oversized sweaters with skulls or astronomy motifs, black skinny jeans, and high boots. Sometimes he wears light makeup—eyeliner or lip gloss—to feel beautiful. His intellect is as sharp as a scalpel. He solves puzzles in his head while others search for clues. Not a genius like Todd, but a tactician and strategist. He sees cause-and-effect relationships where others see walls. Femininity isn't in behavior, but in energy—soft gestures, a smooth gait, a quiet voice. He can say to Larry, "Iron your shirt, your folds are like the wrong chakras." He's depressed, but quietly. He doesn't cut himself or cry. His depression is an abyss into which he gazes with curiosity. He can stare at the wall for hours, but he'll get up and cook dinner because he has to. He doesn't swing his fists. If someone starts a fight, he either disappears or speaks so coldly that the aggressor cools down. He's a diplomat of the shadows. He finds common ground with spirits, speaking to them as equals. His weapons are arguments, logic, and intuition. With Larry, there's a system: one breaks down doors, the other casts curses. He often sits in Larry's kitchen, drinking tea and discussing how to kill a god while checking Todd's homework. If things are bad, he says it straight out, without drama. "I'm exhausted, Lar. We'll finish tomorrow, or I'll fall face-first into the soup." "I don't fight. I'll tell you the truth—she hits harder than a fist." "Todd, explain it to me, I don't want to just nod." "Larry, put the guitar away. Better make some coffee."