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Message: <blockquote data-quote="James Heard" data-source="post: 2184025" data-attributes="member: 7280">Ambling cheerfully up to the guard house, Brandon waves and waits for the security guardsman to approach him."Hi! My name's Brandon Sharpe. I'm a professional photgrapher?" Brandon reaches into his wallet and produces his identification and shows off his photographic equipment. "I'm staying just up the road a bit and was wondering if I could take a few photos from your property perhaps? If I can't, I understand. Just looking for some better scenery and I thought from the map that this place might have a rental agency so I could get a bike or something? I'm only here for the weekend. I'd certainly respect the privacy of your guests, if that's an issue - or even get a room unless it's above my means or you guys are full." His smile is brilliant and friendly the entire time, the same sort of easy manner that he tries to have in everything he does. He shrugs, "I mostly do political photos on location, but if you guys have any interesting architecture or even wildlife I'd love to get a lens on it...but," he continues sheepishly," Mostly I just want to rent bike because this island is bigger than it looks on paper. Bikes are better for taking pictures, you get to see more than what you might from a car." Brandon, given an opening to talk, can continue nigh forever and does if no one interrupts him.OOC: If the guard is a gossip then I might as well chat him up now, since bored security guards probably see and hear about as much as you'd expect anyone besides a bartender or convenience store clerk to.</blockquote>

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