"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Viewing Single Post From: The Gadfly Cometh
General Goose
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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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Bradley clicked his tongue, and swung his rifle over his shoulders, holding it behind his neck with one hand on each end of the rifle. "I got a rifle, guys, full disclosure. Like, if I was dangerous, you guys'd be fucked, but instead, hey, I'm an asset." He always believed in honesty. Duplicity was not a skill he had, and he had never sought to learn it. Sadly for the rest of the world, he considered tact and discretion forms of duplicity. Self-censorship was a sign of cowardice, and Bradley would not let up. He would be honest, and that included continuing his duty as the harbinger of uncomfortable truths. Bradley would not become a kind of bowdlerising manipulator.

He would be honest about how, in the weapon rolls, he had done well. He hoped the honesty would create a good first impression. Yes, Bradley was infamous. Perhaps it was too late for first impressions, but within the context of the island, people would be viewed in a new context. And Bradley wanted to make it clear to the world he was as candid, above board, and uninhibited as always. It would, hopefully, lower people's guards for him to be so forthright. It would be reassuring. Cancel out the fear factor the gun brought innately to the equation.

Less relaxing, perhaps, was his stance. His stance was casual, relaxed, nonchalant. A facade, of course. Nobody could be nonchalant in this situation. Indifference and apathy was always easy when hearing about terrorism or mass murder in the abstract, when it was happening on the other side of the world. But Bradley was staring death in the face. Holding a rifle in his hands. A proper rifle. An M16. One of those guns his dad always raved on about. True to the hillbilly stereotype, Bradley's dad was a gun nut. Bradley most emphatically wasn't. Considered it a bit nerdy. God, he regretted that choice of interests now.

"How are you guys holding up?" His smile did not waver, but it was sincere. For once, not a setup to some witticism.
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Kiziah Saraki
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