Slowly, everybody's aura builds up.
They're not just less powerful than the Bells'; they're different. Joker auras don't tell you they're attached to magic and power; it's not 'look at me, I'm important' or 'look at me, I'm magical' but 'look at me', the end.
Except that that is not the end at all.
Their auras track emotions, like the Bells', but far more responsively. They can be whimsical one second and terrifying the next; they can laugh while their auras cry and cry while their auras laugh. It's all in how you play it.
The initial differences are subtle. Beast's aura can make him seem more human, or more beastly, whichever form he's in. The others of variable species don't seem to do anything similar, at least not to nearly the same degree. Ghosty's is the most interesting, because she can show her aura without manifesting physically; suddenly she has a presence even when she technically doesn't.
Micaiah's aura is the first one to manifest an obviously unique feature, although 'unique' isn't quite accurate, because after a few more hours of spellcasting they all have one:
A soundtrack.
Pretty soon, they're all cuddled up in one of the guest rooms and the music is going strong. With the whole pile of them together, somebody's aura will start playing a song and the rest will either pick it up or add embellishments. It's tremendous fun.
Aegis is the first one to swing by to investigate. And she laughs and laughs.
"You have theme music, it's fantastic," she snickers, hugging him.
Aegis snuggle-hugs right back. "Yours're chattier than ours. None of the Bells've seen more than the four basic emotional effects Rose reported, even though they show up differently."
Queenie is indeed right in the middle of the pile, looking like the snuggliest creature you ever did see, comfortably intertwined with every other Joker who will fit.
"How does she look like a - a viscacha without actually being fluffy and rabbity?" asks Aegis quizzically. "Dang. Auras are weird."
"I like mine too." She tugs Sue's hand. "Let's go outside where there's room and dance!"
Wheeeeee!
"Love you too," she says lightly, spinning, her hair in a zero-g cloud around her.
Her husband is curled up in the pile, human-shaped but purring like a kitten while Queenie pets his hair.
Rose floats into the air to hover, horizontal, over the pile, and drop an arm down to pet him as requested. "Your auras are much more uniform than the Bells' are," she comments. "Although not quite so."
His aura radiates innocence. He looks sweet and vaguely harmless.