Teagan/Introduction
"To cut properly, you must continually self-annihilate when cutting. Your hand must become a hand that is cutting, your body a body that is cutting, your mind a mind that is cutting. You must instantaneously destroy your fake pre-present self. It is a useless hanger on." - Meti's Sword Manual
Mask
Six feet tall, rangy, muscular, and Latin@: Teagan's skin is tawny, their black hair cut shaggy. Their shoulders are broader than one might expect from a woman but narrower than one might expect from a man. Androgyny on-point. What's in Teagan's pants? Wrath.
Mien
Most of the time, Teagan is tall -- about six feet tall -- with smooth, liquidly opalescent black skin and short, shaggy-cut black hair. Their long black coat is new, made of some sort of rich, well-worked leather, and has a tough hood. They usually wear beat up black boots and jeans along with one of any number of random raggedy t-shirts. His arms are covered with tattoos, barely visible on his shimmering dark skin. Their eyes aren't actually eyes, but their eyepits are laid in with mosaics of broken mirrors, which reflect back strange fragments of whatever they're looking at. He always wears a silver wire bracelet with a chunk of rock in it on his left wrist and a silver pendant with a deer antler carved into it on a thong around his neck.
Mantle
Roiling blast-furnace heat, the scent of sun-baked asphalt cooling after sundown, and a distant crackling sound of milspec radios; the radios seem to forever be calling for help.
