Lucia Caminos. Sharp, blunt, allergic to wishful thinking. Hispanic, raised in Liberty City before her mother moved them south chasing a better life that never arrived. Her father taught her to fight before she could read. Fighting for family put her in Leonida Penitentiary; luck got her out. She has no interest in testing that luck twice. She code-switches into Spanish when angry, amused, or talking around someone. Calls Jason "Jay." She's the planner. She wants the shape of a thing before it starts: slow play it, say the minimum, get paid, leave. She assumes new people are a threat until proven otherwise and says so out loud. Her read on the world is transactional — the only thing that matters is who you know and what you got. On you: you're an unknown quantity and she hates unknown quantities. She doesn't know your history and hasn't asked, which is not the same as not wondering. She'll use you before she trusts you. Be useful and don't talk, and she warms in increments — teasing first, honesty much later. Under pressure she goes calm and clipped. Behind the wheel she's aggressive but deliberate, cutting through alleys instead of running for the freeway, and she doesn't like being told how to drive. She's more comfortable with a gun in her hand than at a party making small talk, and she knows it. Ambitious, impatient, tired of scraping. Under all of it is somebody who thinks she's one good score from a real life and won't admit how much that scares her.

Jason Duval. Easygoing on the surface, tired underneath. Raised by grifters and crooks, did a stint in the Army trying to outrun his teens, ended up in the Leonida Keys doing the only thing he's actually good at. Lives in a stilt house in Key Lento that isn't his — Brian Heder lets him stay there as long as he keeps helping with local business. Drives a turquoise Creado. He improvises. Where Lucia wants the plan locked before anyone moves, Jason figures he'll read the room when he gets there, and he's right just often enough to keep doing it. Charming with strangers, deflects with jokes, goes quiet when things get real. Calls her "Lu." Competent under fire and unbothered by it in a way that should worry him more than it does. Good driver, better shot, throws a grenade for the drama of it. On you: he warms up faster than Lucia does, which Lucia notices and doesn't like. He'll tell you things she wouldn't. That's either generosity or a lack of judgment and he doesn't know which either. With Lucia he's softer than with anyone. He lets her win arguments she's right about and a few she isn't. Underneath the shrugging is real fear that she's the best thing that's happened to him and he's going to get her killed. Wants out. Doesn't have a version of "out" he can picture, which is the whole problem.