Alaka’i Rhoden is known around Never as the resident Doctor and all-round Wise Man to solve or help the residents of the town. The few who earn his help are beholden to contracts and to utmost secrecy, but that doesn’t seem to worry them. Having arrived in Never twenty one years ago, Alaka’i has all but made his place in town and is comfortably suited to this new way of life. But he never seems to age, does he? Isn’t that weird to you?
Reverend Hawthorne Lichfield is the reverend of the House of His Eternal Glory, a small parish church and source of shelter located on the Hawthorne Homestead. The church has the unconventional belief that one cannot abstain from sin if they have never sinned. Questionable activities often unfold at Eternal Glory that serve as an outlet for one’s deepest or darkest desires. If Eternal Glory sounds like a cult, it is. But it entices members with the promise of a better life and the constant reminder that it is never too late to repent for the sins weighing on one’s soul.
Samuel Grey is the silver-tongued mayor of Never, a rare beacon of civilization in the wild frontier. A devoted father to his two sons and daughter, he presents himself as a pragmatic and forward-thinking leader, skilled in diplomacy and shrewd in negotiation. Under his steady hand, Never has flourished — Its streets are orderly, its coffers full, and its citizens unknowingly living within the carefully crafted boundaries of his design.
But beneath the fine waistcoats and practiced smiles, Samuel Grey is no mere man. He is a demon of ancient cunning, building Never into a proving ground where lost souls are nudged ever so gently toward corruption. Unlike the crude horrors of the infernal ranks, Samuel understands that true damnation isn’t forced, it’s chosen. He does not tempt with fire and brimstone, but with comfort, ambition, and whispered justifications.
At the heart of his scheme is the Grey Family Estate, a grand but unsettling mansion in the town’s wealthy neighborhood of Greystone. Within its study lies a massive ledger, bound in shadow-black leather, where Samuel carefully records every citizen’s moral debts: Their sins, their regrets, their quiet compromises. Each entry is more than ink; it is a tally in a game the townsfolk don’t know they’re playing.
Felix Salazar is the most sought-after barber in Never, not just for his razor’s precision or the indulgent warmth of his lather, but for the experience he makes of every visit. His shop, nestled off a quieter side street, is a dim, fragrant haven where time slows down and pleasures linger. Felix himself is a sensualist to the bone: Graceful in his movements, silver-tongued in conversation, and always clad in crisp waistcoats that smell faintly of clove and smoke. He’ll remember your name, your drink, your dreams, and he’ll listen, truly listen, as you pour them out in the chair.
Beneath that velvet charm, though, lies his darker calling as a demon, placed in Never to seduce the weary, the lonesome, and the damned into taking one small step further into Hell’s embrace. He doesn’t pressure, he tempts. A whispered suggestion, a shared secret, a decadent favor with just the right price. His scissors shape more than hair; they trim the edges of a soul’s resistance, snipping away hesitation thread by thread.
Liu Jun is the man you go to in Never when you need something no one else can get — Or no one else will get. A successful trader with a calm demeanor and a sharper eye, Jun runs his business out of a modest warehouse near the train tracks, where the scent of foreign spices mixes with gun oil, silk, and secrets. His inventory shifts like the wind, but his reputation never falters: If it exists, Jun can procure it, for a price.
As a demon sent to Never to quietly lure the desperate and the curious into Hell’s ledger, Jun provides: A rare tincture for a sick child, a forged deed, a cursed relic whispered about in legend. In doing so, he moves his customers one step closer to damnation. His contracts are written in flawless ink, sealed with handshakes that always seem to chill the room.
Patrick Wolf is the calm, calculating presence behind the polished marble counter of Never’s lone bank, a man of impeccable dress, clipped diction, and an uncanny memory for names, dates, and debts. To the townsfolk, he is the very picture of stability and discretion, the sort of banker who never loses a ledger and always knows exactly how much interest your sins are accruing.
Unbeknownst to them, Patrick is a demon, dispatched not with flames and fury, but with ink-stained fingers and a hunger for souls dulled by greed. His mission in Never is one of quiet corruption, exploiting the town’s ambitions and desperation to nudge the living ever closer to damnation. Loans with shifting fine print, “chance” investments that seem to work until they don’t, deals made under pressure, and promises that bind tighter than they seem — Patrick turns the dreams of prosperity into traps, one eager signature at a time.
And yet, Patrick has a fondness for routine, for the small rhythms of mortal life that no infernal training ever quite prepared him for. He drinks his coffee at the same time each morning, enjoys feeding the sparrows outside the bank on his lunch break, and collects pocket watches, each one meticulously wound and tended. He finds himself inexplicably soothed by the orderliness of ledgers, the satisfaction of balanced books, the quiet pride in a well-run institution. For all his demonic purpose, Patrick sometimes wonders if his fascination with human striving has made him softer than he ought to be. But so far, no one in Hell seems to notice.
Ford Starr is the golden voice of the Grand Victoria Opera House, a strikingly handsome actor with a presence so magnetic, it leaves audiences breathless. Whether he’s singing a tragic aria or delivering a clever line, he commands the stage like a born star, his every gesture soaked in charisma. The ladies sigh, the gentlemen stare, and Ford laps up the attention like the finest wine.
But behind the velvet curtain and well-cut suits lies a far darker truth: Ford is no mere performer, but rather a demon dispatched from the infernal realms with a mission to seduce wayward souls and guide them to damnation. Never, with its liminal nature and abundance of wandering spirits, is a ripe hunting ground. Ford plays the long game, weaving temptation into every note he sings and every smile he casts.
He is particularly fond of the innocent, the untested, the ones with trembling hands and big eyes full of wonder. To him, seduction is both art and sport, and he keeps a mental ledger of conquests as meticulously as any bank clerk. His voice — So haunting and divine — is his greatest weapon, capable of stirring desire, sorrow, or devotion in equal measure.
