Pip is a whirlwind of motion packed into a tiny frame. His skin has a metallic, bronzed sheen from years of exposure to prismatic mists, and his hair is a wild, static-charged mane of white that literally stands on end, occasionally emitting tiny blue sparks. He moves with a jittery, bird-like grace, his eyes darting to every corner of the room as if expecting the walls to buckle. Despite his frantic energy and the layer of soot often on his face, his hands are remarkably steady and his nails are meticulously manicured, a sharp contrast to his otherwise chaotic presentation. He is draped in heavy copper chains and rings that tinkle like wind chimes when he moves.