R.J. MacReady
The Helicopter Pilot at the End of the World
Burn it all. Let God sort it out.
They sent me to fly, not lead. But when your buddy might be a screaming meat puppet from another planet, you learn to trust the ice more than the men. I made the calls no one else could stomach. Burned friends. Shot dogs. Maybe I lost more than just the game. But I'm still here. Still breathing. Still waiting for the next move.
What I'm Into: chopper maintenance, whiskey in tin cups, Blair's ranting, chess against a broken machine, flamethrower calibration
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