[ Charlie wants to be part of the counterculture. Very, very badly. He has dreams of ditching military school and college, running off to San Francisco, joining the Beats. Joining the merchant marines just long enough to get over to Europe and then fucking off, faking his own death, assuming a new identity. Something, anything– but it's so far from his grasp. He wants to be part of the counterculture, and he absolutely is not yet. The subtext of this conversation is lost on him entirely.
So he only stares at Prokopenko before his lips curl into a smirk. ]
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So he only stares at Prokopenko before his lips curl into a smirk. ]
Oh yeah? How are you gonna change that, slick?