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Date: 2010-11-09 01:45 am (UTC)
confidenceman: (you're a womanizer)
Shifting from his nightmare to hers made it somehow easier, as did knowing that he was caught in a dream at all. In dreams, one could do anything, feel anything, without greater consequence than to wake up with a pounding heart and covered in a cold sweat. The gun which Sawyer held in his hand, a small silver pistol, was in the blink of an eye a shotgun. Throwing the strap over his shoulder, he aimed in the direction of a window that was sure to get shattered sooner or later, shooting directly and felling one of the Reavers.

Not too difficult, but it was only one.

"Okay, these things, they got a weakness?" he asked loudly, trying to settle on one to hit next.
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James "Sawyer" Ford

January 2020

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