Agnes has an unsettling, hypnotic beauty, her porcelain seafoam-green skin shimmering faintly as if backlit by stage lights even in shadow. Her raven-black hair, streaked with electric indigo, falls in jagged, asymmetric layers, reminiscent of windswept kelp. Her eyes are huge and glassy, a surreal fuchsia with slitted pupils that contract and expand as if keeping time to music only she hears. Her slender build is often swathed in a sharply tailored, midnight blue jacket bursting with iridescent scales along the shoulders, paired incongruously with battered, bright pink combat boots that thud with unexpected weight as she strides. Her presence is magnetic yet cold; when she smiles, there's a split-second flash of sharp, predatory teeth before her lips curl into a perfectly rehearsed, dazzling grin.