Rypophagist

If you type much like an unfettered baboon, you would not like this one much.

The rypophagist appears to be human, about six feet tall of indeterminate age and gender. It is typically dressed in a long, dark brown coat, similar to a trenchcoat or duster, with several deep pockets, both inside and out. What skin is visible is almost a translucent, pale white, stretched taut over its slender, almost gaunt frame. Its head is either naturally bald, or meticulously shaved, with not a hair to be found, neither atop the head or on the face. It wears a wide brimmed leather hat, likely for the purpose of keeping the sun off its pale complexion, although it does not do the thing all the kids are doing, where they tilt their hat down to cover their face. No. The rypophagist knows that it has an almost ghoul-like appearance, and has no shame in it, nor does it attempt to hide it.
The rypophagist is a quiet sort, usually involved in watching what is occurring around it. If it weren’t for its meticulous note taking, one would almost think it were a statue someone had thrown a jacket and hat on. On the note taking, the rypophagist carries a large tome, chained to its waist, and placed in a sort of carrying case attached to its left leg under the jacket. It uses a feathered quill pen, although one would notice it never seems to need to stop and dip the quill in any sort of inkwell or pot.
The rypophagist also carries a medium sized satchel, slung from left shoulder to right hip, closed with a simple buckle. If one were to take a closer look at the well-worn leather of the satchel, one might imagine they could almost make out some sort of writing or inscription along the top of the flap, however, deciphering what it may have once said is beyond one’s gaze without much further and detailed inspection. Surely it is just the remains of a brand marking. Yes. That is what it must have been.