Phil (to let age come before beauty, and boy am I going to get a scowl over that) is at first glance a big Northern Italian boy--at first I thought he was Swiss--with an attitude toward his fellow beings that's right between a stereotypical Texan ("You take care of the lunch bill, I'll take care of the Cadillacs") and W.C. Fields at his most expansive ("Is this a game of chance?" "Not the way I play it, no."), with a wicked sense of comic timing. If he's in a relaxed situation, or if something interests him as unusual this attitude slips and you get a related but different Phil: still friendly but inquisitive and highly focused, willing to spend the time and effort to get whatever information you can give him. (I suspect any publisher that goes into contract negotiations with him expecting an easygoing mark they can con will get the shock of their lives. As it is, he's a very good poker player.) His library is the second best private collection I've ever been in (Edd still takes first place), and is obviously well-used. He's not easy to surprise, but I managed it once with the gift of a book he'd been unable to find for years and it was like seeing a kid finding the best Christmas gift EVER under the tree. Having once seen him justly annoyed at a dastard who'd come up in conversation, I'd never want to truly piss him off: I suspect he's smarter than I am and if he's like my relatives there's no way he'll ever quit if he's in the right.
Kaja comes across as lean and elegant until something strikes her as silly, at which point she'll either laugh like hell or point out how foolish it is. She is probably the person I know that most worries about being polite, which is why the Kitten of Assistance is named Kaja: whenever I visited and their cat Bruce jumped on the furniture she'd order him off and then turn and apologize because the cat had the same name, they'd named him before they met me, and... I finally told her that I'd make her a deal--I'd name my next cat Kaja and she'd quit apologizing. That ended the problem. Her name means Jackdaw, and when an idea or object draws her attention it's impossible to forget this: shining eyes accompanied by poking at her subject from all sides--is it shiny, what shape is it, does it make a noise, if you turn it over and press it here and there what does it do? She's an extremely gifted artist, but instead of churning out lots and lots of work (so I could acquire one of her pieces someday) she's busy running the Airship Entertainment publishing empire, which makes me bitch and moan and grind my teeth when she's not present. In physical appearance she's closer in appearance to Dixie than Professor Foglio--I don't know what past event Phil was thinking of when he put the nose that high in the air for the Professorial portrait.
They have two Experiments, who I'll only mention briefly because some folks don't like details about their kids. Experiment 1 has clearly inherited both his parent's good looks and their intelligence: he reminds me of what I was like at that age, but with a better temper and stronger impulse control. (At which my surviving relatives can all chime in "He could hardly have less...") I expect he'll be a major heartthrob when he hits high school. Experiment 2 is a bright and pretty little girl and will, I expect, turn out similarly: if she has an athletic bent I expect her to end up as a point guard or a member of Women's Crew at the UW based on her parent's phenotypes.