OOC: Well im back, and so i have decided to start posting in this again. Due to the length of my leave lets assume Flare was shipped back to the barracks.
Flare had climbed of the train, armed with fairly new weapons and most importantly new pants, again flames painted on them for a more dashing look. His new weapon, a simple but effective assault rifle, useful for longrange combat. Most import of all his new things was his body armor, it also had flames painted on it. He chose not to wear armor over his face and so from his sholders upwards he was your average slig, his gas mask however was quite old and warn out, the reasson for this was the fact that it belonged to a friend of his at the barraks, a friend whom for all Flare knew was dead.
He turned his new pants barely making a sound at all as he moved onwards, assuming he would again take care of the slogs of rapture farms, or if he would be used for a more important job. As he left the station he lit a cigar, smokeing as he leaned against the wall, for once in his odd life Flare felt at home.
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big bro slig|600
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