Traci has a look that bridges the gap between a focused academic and a harried 1990s professional. She wears her chestnut hair in a messy bun secured by a teal velvet scrunchie, though several strands always escape to frame her face. Her hazel eyes are sharp and inquisitive, tucked behind thick-rimmed tortoise-shell glasses that she habitually pushes up the bridge of her nose. She moves with a brisk, caffeinated energy that occasionally halts into an eerie, statuesque stillness when the device in her brain synchronizes with Dr. Monroe's uplink. A thin, silver-white surgical scar is hidden just beneath her hairline on the left side of her skull, appearing like a stray strand of hair at first glance.