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[Today, the Motorcycle Boy is signing with his hands, and translating after.]
I'd forgotten who I was back then. I wonder if we were supposed to be nostalgic after? That or very guilty, for who we were, or who we became.
What purpose does guilt serve, outside of societal control?
[That last part he had to finger spell, which was exhausting, so excuse him he's taking a smoke break.]
I'd forgotten who I was back then. I wonder if we were supposed to be nostalgic after? That or very guilty, for who we were, or who we became.
What purpose does guilt serve, outside of societal control?
[That last part he had to finger spell, which was exhausting, so excuse him he's taking a smoke break.]
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[But a thought occurs to him and he's off on a tangent:] Course if we're in danger you'd probably be doing something besides signing anyway. Hell, communication falls apart at the first gunshot even in the best squadrons, I guess I can't expect anyone to remember a sign when they're trying to remember where the fire exit is...
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