Zook looks as though he has been marinated in library paste and ink. He is slightly hunched, with skin the texture of crumpled parchment and a constant, vibrating nervous energy. His white hair is kept in a wild, frizzy halo that is perpetually stained with indigo ink at the tips because he uses his locks to wipe his pens. He carries an overwhelming scent of old vellum and dried lavender. Despite his frail-looking upper body, he possesses surprisingly muscular calves from decades of sprinting across the city to witness historical events firsthand. He wears a complex harness over his chest that holds sixteen different specialized spectacles, which he switches between with mechanical efficiency depending on what he is reading or who he is judging.