World of Gears
Ludwig Krauss is a tall, gaunt Kreigerian with a perpetual frown of intense concentration. He is in his early forties but appears a decade or so older, with receding hair which is beginning to turn from brown to grey. The skin on his left face, neck, and wrist are marked by faded burn scars, and his posture and gait are slightly distorted by a constellation of old, mostly-healed injuries. Still, when he thinks to pull himself into a proper military bearing, he still shows echoes of the dashing young Surgical Korps officer he once was.
His clothes are presentable but far from stylish, running toward dark, slightly threadbare suits and sturdy walking shoes. Their scent is almost aggressively clean, as he takes regular care to enzymatically neutralize the lab odors which would otherwise cling to his clothes. Outdoors, he adds a heavy, vaguely martial-looking greatcoat of Kreigerian ram’s wool, and his leather medical kit and working notebooks are always close at hand.
His eyes are a piercing ice blue…and on closer examination, the color extends beyond the iris and has started to infiltrate the whites, a sign (for those few who might recognize it) of early to mid-stage cognatogen addiction. In a sufficiently dark room and when fatigue or injury force his metabolism into overdrive, the vessels beneath his skin can be traced by a faint green or yellow glow — the slow alchemical burn of the reagents that keep his physiology optimized against all obstacles. How long these alchemical augmentations are sustainable, and what their consequences will be, are open questions.