| Standing off to the side is a male, of the Vulps Vulps .. or Red Fox verity! Looking down it seems he�s holding a note pad, or something like it anyway. His red-orange fur covered digits pushed around an aluminium colored metallic stylus over it�s glassy smooth surface. His face seems aged, perhaps beyond his years by the look of his overall build and health, perhaps not. His ears stood tall and erect at the moment, both the blackened tips and pinkish ear flesh could be seen before running into the white tufts of inner ear fur. He offered up a sigh and flicked his eyes else where for a second, framing up something else with those blue pools of his before getting back to work on his pad.
By now a quarter sized disc of white fur rather high up on his neck was exposed. It�s perfectly symmetrical, indicative of a scar, and not some natural mark. As always the collar of his jacket is folded over neatly and the green on metallic silver white arm patches were clean and crisp, each thread of the embroidered cluster and Cornerian flag in it�s proper place. In fact his uniform was groomed with the same attention it seemed, the canvas like material of his jacket was straight and crisp. His jacket hung on his form with it�s sleeves reaching his wrists and the bottom seam came to his mid waist, leaving plenty of room for his thick olive drab belt to be exposed. His belt is of standard issue, clasped tightly around his middle via a black metal buckle system in the middle. Being two inches thick with two rows of metal eyelets along the length, and of course twin drop leg tactical style holsters rest on his thighs, each filled with more then a handful of blaster and of course two straps from the holsters slid around his lower thighs as well. Two square pouches made of nylon like material also rest on his belt, held in place by loops and clasps that line up with the holes on his belt, each pack rested forward of the holsters, and each is of medium size. His belt is obviously of the load bearing verity. He shifted again, his boots slid against the floor some what roughly, causing a dull grating sound while rubber soles cling a bit, aside from rubber his boots were made of leather and more nylon weave. They looked like pure black �jungle boots� and they came up high over his ankles to accept the legs of his olive drab jumpsuit. Offering a bit of a sigh he reached to pull the zipper of one of his slanted breast pockets open and slide that pad inside before slipping the pen like device in as well. This bid of display might also hint he�s not one of a literary persuasion, or perhaps his work weighed on him, both plausible answers. Standing up straighter he glanced towards the one watching him as he walked off, flicking that mid sized vulpine tail brush behind him, it too of average marking just like the rest of his form. |
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| Lieutenant Colonel | |||||||
| (Cluster Fucker) | |||||||