I'm an amazing shot but I don't suffer from main character syndrome, so I'd be the stoned to the bone quartermaster who cleans all guns just for fun.
I'm an amazing shot but I don't suffer from main character syndrome, so I'd be the stoned to the bone quartermaster who cleans all guns just for fun.
My post-apocalyptic commune fantasy has been to be the gruff older guy who's secretly a softie, who fixes machines and gadgets, or build new ones out of scrap that the young whippersnappers haul back to the commune.