THUMP!

That was the first thing you notice about Flynn, the thudding of his heavy steel-toed military boots, announcing his coming wherever he went. He is a formidable man, fearsome to look upon, his muscular form masked by his heavy biker jacket, and the bullet-proof vest hidden beneath it.

He always straps his Magnum holster above his frayed jeans, the monstrous six-slinger always handy for dealing out death. His huge knife, serrated on one side, he keeps sheathed at the back of his belt, and the hi-tech sniper rifle he carries will often be slung across his back.

As formidable as all that makes him seem, the large man, armed to the teeth, it was nothing once you’d seen his face. A flop of black hair dangles over his brow, hiding his haunted eyes, a crude scar slashed across the right one. His nose is twice broken, and his lower lip is split by a scar on the left side. He is as terrifying a man as you are like to meet, up until the moment he smiles at you.