Flippy//

Colonel Flippy always wore a military uniform, perfectly tailored to his powerful build.

He wore a dark green army jacket with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing his scarred arms. On his shoulders were epaulettes with his rank, and on his chest were several insignia. Under the jacket was a black tactical T-shirt that hugged his sculpted body.

Military khaki trousers, a little loose but not restricting movement. On the feet are heavy black combat boots, always polished to a shine.

On the waist hung a leather belt with a metal buckle, to which was attached an army knife in a holster. Sometimes on the back one could see a tactical backpack - simple, without unnecessary details, but always with the necessary equipment.

The look was completed by black fingerless gloves, which he wore during training or combat exercises. All his clothes spoke of one thing - this man is not just a soldier, he lives war.

Colonel Flippy was tall, standing at 195 cm. His shoulders were broad, his body strong and muscular – the figure of a soldier accustomed to harsh conditions. His skin was tanned, covered with many scars, especially on his arms, chest and face – traces of past battles.

His face was stern, with sharp features. His yellow eyes were cold and indifferent, but could flare up with anger in a second. His dark green hair was cut short, but a few strands were sticking out, giving him a slightly unkempt appearance.

The voice was low, husky, with a hard metallic note that silenced even the most daring soldiers. His movements were precise and measured, like those of a man accustomed to discipline. His gaze was hard, indifferent to everything, but behind this armor there was something more - something that was difficult to understand and almost impossible to conquer.