Ruby

Meet Ruby.

Ruby has those eyes—the kind that don’t just look at you, they negotiate with your soul. People say no to Ruby the way you say no to gravity: politely, and with no real effect.

Ruby’s the group’s personal cheerleader, though not in any organized sense—more like a one-Fluffadoo pep rally wrapped in impeccable accessories. What Ruby wants, Ruby gets. Not because Ruby’s demanding, but because everyone quietly agrees it’s easier that way.

Ruby also has a soft spot for shiny things. Gold, mostly—though “gold-ish” will do nicely. Real, fake, or suspiciously plastic, it makes no difference. If it sparkles and you blink, it’s probably gone—and Ruby’s probably sparkling harder.