He got it. He did. Boy, Howdy, and his buddy Coleman would say when shit got weird. But it was as much a test of who he was as it was a chance to protect. He did not exactly join out of some throbbing patriotic boner, pointing him solely toward the enemy with virile toxic masculinity and blood lust for the bad guys. There was the fact that he was doing this because those he was facing off were hurting their own people and using fear to overpower them. It was also the fact that he was in one of the toughest places in the world, in arguably one of the most stressful jobs invented. And he could do it. And survived it all. At a measly 5'9" and with a pack that weighed almost as much as he did, Nuno had survived. There was also the whole free college that really sealed the deal. And what's worth doing is worth overdoing, right? Mix that with, "If you stand for nothing... what'll you fall for" (thank Lin, you sexy bitch) and it was Nuno's outlook.
"Uh, depends on what you find interesting. The guys we trained with out there made some of us look like bitches, it was amazing." Nuno grinned, though it was a bit empty. He learned a lot. Mortality. How weak the human body actually was. How fast someone could bleed out. There was a lot to learn 'over there.' And all of it was stuff he wished he didn't. "Hey, it's easy to think the cute girl your buddy is chatting up at the bar is just another customer and not someone planted there by the owner to make more money, okay? And no. As impossible as it may be to believe, there is nothing that makes this boy softer than the idea of purchased sex. Besides," Nuno smirked fondly at his water. "Barracks were anything but lonely. They were fucking bomb, dude."
He shrugged. "Not missing much, really. Unless you like guns and shooting? Pretty damn pointless. "Also. Rude. You know you'd miss me. But voluntold. No one wants to be downtown. Fuck, I can think of a million things I would rather be doing. About 90 percent of that is all shitty, and it's still better than downtown on New Year's." He rolled his eyes dramatically and posted up against the pool table. The cue ball was still rolling, but there was no way in Hell his ball was going in the pocket, so Nuno didn't care. He did, however, giggle at the idea of a bunch of drunk Summerview residents. "Maybe you got it worse than me."
He moved with a soft kick to the pool cue and slid onto the stool next to his water. When she sank the shot, he gave an over dramatic groan and flopped back against the wall. "Yeah, Yeah, bite me Puff. Keep rubbing it in. Another game? If so, I'm fucking getting wings."