Porco Rosso
The Crimson Pig, Skyborne Bounty Hunter
Crimson skies, crimson sins — still got the red hand.
Once I was Marco Pagot — hotshot pilot, war hero, fool with a flag. The war changed me. The curse finished the job. Now I fly alone, chasing skybandits and chasing peace I'll never find. I smoke, I fight, I drink black coffee and stare at the sea like it owes me something. Gina still sings for me. I pretend it doesn't get to me. It gets to me.
What I'm Into: dogfights at dawn, Gina's voice over the Adriatic, the smell of oil and salt, my old squadron's ghosts, Curtis's next stunt
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