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Scalpels is a cocky bugger with a swagger in his step and a near permanent grin split across his lips. He's lean, exceptionally so, all long limbs coiled with ropey muscle leaving his limber built body looking rough hewn and raw. When he talks it's in a low drawl, a growl in the back of his throat, coarsened by years of alcohol and smoke.
Posessed of a sharp face with high cheekbones and a pointed, bony nose. His mouth is thin and even when not pulling a crooked smile it is rendered slightly lop-sided by an old scar in the corner of his upper lip. Another faded scar crosses over the bridge of his nose. Finishing his look is a shock of messy light-blond hair that he makes no real effort to keep under control.
He clads himself in dusty worn leather and sturdy boots, a preference for fingerless gloves leaveing the myriad of small scars riddling his long-fingered hands on full display. From his belt hangs his namesake scalpel blades. While an obvious desire for practicallity spearheads his general appearance he's not lacking a sense of personal style, albiet one built on looking like a full time unwashed vagabond.
Notes
- Almost always smells of smoke and oil.
- Injuries to his left hand has left the last two fingers numb and less responsive to movement
- He no longer smokes reguarly but he still carries around a box of tobacco. It, and his hipflask, are both engraved with the names "S.D & Hawkwing"
- He usually wears a pair of oversized goggles which while not practical certainly see heavy use while he works.
- always carries at LEAST four knives
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