There is little to distinguish Samantha Murphy from any other American woman, and little about her stands out as impressive. Average in height, she is likely more fit than most of the populace, but not exceedingly so. Overall, she is only remarkable in how absolutely ordinary she is.

Her face is strongly heart shaped, with wide cheeks narrowing quickly as her jawline descends to the rounded point of her chin. Her eyes are dark brown, almost black in color, and carry an air of detached skepticism, as if constantly weighing every single sight for its measure of deception and falsehood. Her nose rises like a single triangular peak in the center of her face, and cuts sharply downward to her mouth, where her lips seem to fall into a natural moue of practiced disbelief.  Straight black hair falls meekly over her shoulders to the small of her back.

Her clothes are neat but inexpensive. When she dresses up, her clothes are yesterday's fashions bought with a second-hand discount. Most of the time, however, she's casual -- plain black t-shirt with denim jeans and combat boots; her leather biker jacket hangs open, barely hiding the straps supporting her shoulder-holstered heavy pistol.