Tao Chen

Tao stands at an average height, but his slouched posture makes him appear smaller, as if he's trying to disappear into the shadows. His jet-black hair falls in uneven layers, half covering his eyes—dark, almost black, with faint rings of red around them. He keeps his nails painted in chipped black, and a few silver piercings adorn his ears. His skin is pale, the kind that never really sees the sun, and his clothes consist mostly of black and deep burgundy hues—oversized jackets with neon glow-in-the-dark accents, shredded band tees, and tight, dark jeans with zippers and patches. His boots are worn, battered, and scuffed, the soles clicking on the pavement like he's always walking to his own rhythm.