Bad Company: DOA (U/C Still Creating DNP)

[Dizzyfish]

Bad Company: DOA (I/C Thread)

No Dorothy, we aren't in fucking Kansas anymore....
(Storyline)

Apollo 115 was expected to be the first space faring vehicle to traverse the deep black of the galaxy to unknown regions, where N.A.S.A was said to have received transmissions. Whether they were friendly or not was of no concern for Humanities endless vanity never failed to lead them into the clutches of destruction. After traveling as far they could, having taken a great deal of structural damage to their main hull, Apollo 115 returned safely to Earth, defeated in the attempts to contact intelligent life.

That was of course till, S.I.N (Systematically Intelligent Nucleotoides) and a large fleet of their seemingly, "peaceful," ships descended upon Earth, having followed Apollo 115 through space to this destination. They cut off satellite communications through out the world leaving Earth unable to contact its military to form tactical troops in case of an attack. The ships sat dormant, observing until they were certain they had delegated a perfect formation and laid waste to the unsuspecting humanity below.

Earth created the Federation, uniting the world's super powers in hopes of returning the kind favor to S.I.N. Their attempts had failed, as S.I.N.'s weaponry, superb armor and seemingly endless numbers became overwhelming. The large, blue and green planet was left with dwindling numbers, a huge gap in resources and the final go at eradicating the invading aliens was disbanded. The Federation sent it's most prominent figures under ground leaving the world above without leaders. Without hope. Without a future.

Wanted.... Dead or Alive......
(Common Era)

Earth as it stands, is a dormant, dying thing. People are few and far between and travel in small packs as to be off the grid in case S.I.N ran another sweep of the planet's face. Their ships still sit in the sky, waiting for the remainder of Earth's populace to make itself known. Captain James Marcus, a Sergeant in the Federation Army, has not given up on the hope that humanity can still survive this. They can do anything, and he owes a few alien asses for the death of his wife and son. He has heard of an old county prison in the U.S where a group of people calling themselves, "Bad Company," has taken to protecting civilians. Something the Federation seemed to have been incapable of doing since bailing on the World. Though they are not going to like him, as Federation Operatives are hated through out what's left of Earth, he needs them. The struggle for the survival of humanity needs them.... problem is. Getting convicts to conform to the law might prove difficult....

It's the way I play. Dirty for Dirty....
(Rules)

1. Don't be an asshole. I hate assholes, your character can be, but you. Not so much
2. Yes, your character is a convict, no you may not kill anyone off. Unless you ask them first...
3. Post your character in the OOC FIRST for approval, I need to make sure we don't have a plethora of the same kind of people.
4. Once you have turned in a character and got the OK, you may begin posting.
5. Please be creative as I do enjoy a good intrigue. :3
6. TRY not to spell every single word wrong. I am not a grammar nazi (That's a lie XD) But I like to read through what you write, and I will read every single post. It will be hard if you are misspelling second grade words....

Now these towns, they all know our names....
(Character Skellies and Settings)

1. Name:
2. Age:
3. Gender:
4. Appearance:
5. Weapon(s):
6. Supplies: (Things that aren't weapons that your character may carry with them)
7. Conviction: (What you were convicted for, if you aren't a convict, leave this blank)
8. Persona: (Make a small list of personality traits)
9. Bio: (Short Bio, perhaps about your old life, why you were convicted)
10. Specialties: (Optional, do you have anything that makes you more valuable, such as weapon knowledge, tech, engineering, medical stuff...)

- The setting is Metro County High Security Prison in New York. The building itself has no serious structural damage, as the Bad Company has ensured that S.I.N has a terrible time of getting inside the place. They have set up cameras on every angle, barbed wire and land mines line the perimeter.

Chose a gun, and threw away the Sun...
(Weapons)

These are the new weapons of this world. As S.I.N became harder to kill with Earthean means, they enlisted the help of weapon's specialists to recreate the alien technology. So far, they have worked and are rather effective if aimed for the head. As their craniums have an exposed brain.

1. The Vindicator: Standard issue handgun that uses pulse rounds.
2. The Leveler: Another standard issue but offers two options of fire power. The standard pulse rounds and the second trigger unleashes a total of three large canisters of Nanites that eat through shields and armor, leaving the enemy vulnerable.
3. Queen Mother: The most effective weapon against S.I.N as the rapid automatic fire of 300 hundred rounds offers a great deal of protection with a strangely quick loading speed and a decent amount of accuracy.
4. Guardian: The most high powered sniper rifle you could ever get your bloody hands on. Only problem is, it's useless at close range... of course, everyone knows that.
5. Dogma: Shotguns that provide six rounds clip and hold seven clips all together, firing at three rounds per shot.
6. The Juggernaut: A high powered machine gun that brings deadly fire power but little in terms of actual accuracy. That's not to say that whatever is standing in your way wont become a pile of man meat.

Oh Somebody Double-crossed Me
(SIN)

1. Male S.I.N
2. Female S.I.N
3. Bottom Shell
4. Full body: Female
S.I.N are very unique creatures in the universe, as in they have developed three levels of natural armor. Not withstanding the research that has yet to be done lower than their metallic exoskeleton. However, the main objectivity of the entire build of a S.I.N is that their brain is almost always exposed as soon as they must be released from their suits. It's a difficult task, which makes them superb fighters and even dangerous foes. The second layer is equal to that of human skin. Very flesh and easy to pierce. They have no actual mouth to speak to one another. Instead mimic metallic and mechanical sounding frequencies humanity has deemed, "Hell Speak." The final layer of the S.I.N body varies depending on their level. There are three.

1. Vanguard: Very basic entry level foot soldiers that though weaker than the Heavy, they have a plethora of weaponry that make them formiddable. At least for the time being.
2. Heavy: Heavy is the worst of the three. They are equipped with the strongest armor possible and have high powered weaponry. They are the last S.I.N you want to see coming your way. However, their movements are slow due to their large bodies. It requires great effort to run and when they do, an in shape human could out run them any day.
3. Stealth: Stealth are the least covered in armor. But they are fast, stealthy and can track humans better than any in their platoons. A few shots can take them out no problem. That is, if you can remove your weapon fast enough before they climb onto your shoulders and snap your neck with their legs.

 

[Dizzyfish]

I will be posting all character profiles here for easy access. It's harder to keep track being scattered across the OOC. So as soon as you see your character in this list, you are welcome to begin posting.

David Sherman
"Be all the S.I.N. you can be, I'll still kill you."
1. Name: David Sherman
2. Age: 31
3. Gender: Male
4. Appearance: 5'9", weigh 220lbs, ice blue eyes, shoulder length ash blond hair tied back in a ponytail. light stubble which he shaves every second or fourth day if he remembers.
5. Weapon(s): Guardian, Vindicator and knives
6. Supplies: Water, Rope, Wire, toolkit
7. Persona: More a joker than a fighter, he still can be more ferocious than an angry wolverine. He is laid back and will let most things slide, but he gives clear indication that he is getting angry.
8. Bio: After school David joined the correctional services, he proved himself to be able to handle himself and he was one of the last guards who stayed in the Metro after the others decided to leave the prisoners to their fate. He was the one who opened all the secure doors to let the in mates decide what they would like to do. As always he stayed in the back ground and that is why he carries a Guardian, from where he stays out of habit, he can kill at a distance.
9. Specialties: Technician, Security Override, Programmer.

Unit Four
1. Name: Unit Four
2. Age: Appears to be in mid 20s
3. Gender: Appears to be male
4. Appearance: 6'4" 225 lbs. Brown hair cut in a military high and tight. Green eyes.
5. Weapons: Bare hands
6. Supplies: Federation military fatigues
7. Bio: Four is the sole surviving subject of Project S.I.N. Eater. He is a synthetic super soldier created as a last ditch effort to defeat S.I.N. He was named Four by his creator Dr. Kuroi Matsuda because the spoken word for four in Japanese is a homonym for the word for death and is considered bad luck. Dr. Matsuda hope Four would prove to be both to S.I.N. The project was half complete when the labs were overrun. Four lay dormant until he was accidentally activated by a S.I.N. sweep team. Being synthetic he did not register on their scanners and he killed them all before they realized their mistake. Now alone and disoriented he leaves the lab following the last commands in his memory bank: Regroup and attack
8. Persona: Although he is a proficient and deadly killer, his social programming was incomplete when the project was halted. As a result Four has the personality of a small child. He is very sweet natured and expresses genuine wonder and curiosity at things around him. However will attack any entities of S.I.N. immediately and without mercy.
9. Specialties: Superior combat skills, Superior Athletic skills, can learn any other skills taught to him in a matter of minutes.

"I may not be human, but I am all woman."
1. Name: Pepper Ferris
2. Age: Unknown
3. Gender: Female
4. Appearance: Long ebon black hair, with deep piercing eyes that glow during late hours of the night. Most of her skin, including her hands is concealed by dark, thick clothing. Her skin is pale as if she has never seen the light of day. Standing at a rather tall five-feet, nine inches, at least for how thin she is, Pepper does not seem like your typical army meat as her form is rather on the thin side.
5. Weapon(s): The Guardian. Long distance support is always her cup of tea, however, getting too close would be what happens to the fly that wanders too far into the spider's den..
6. Supplies: Nothing.
8. Persona: Cold. Calculating. Her thoughts are based on probability and statistics. If one man dying is going to save the most people, she will not hesitate to throw him off a cliff and get it out of the way. Her mind is comparable to something very mechanistic. Emotions play little roles in that she chooses the preservation of her team than her own feelings or those of others.
9. Bio: Little is known about Pepper's beginning, middle nor where her end will take her. Captain Marcus was the first person she contacted after her sleeper cell status had disbanded and she could come out of hiding. After a few hours of conversation, it was Pepper that got him to set out and search for the rebel group, "Bad Company," as their involvement in the war for human freedom would play a pivatol role later on. Not to mention S.I.N operatives have been on the hunt for these people inside the span of a year with no success. It is Pepper's intention to keep it that way, as her side mission was to take down S.I.N sweeps and gather tech and intel from the crashes. From whom she was collecting the intel shall remain a mystery she will take to the grave. However, her convictions rest with Marcus and his drive to find where, "Bad Company," has taken up refuge and in a sense, "beg," for their help. Whether they will or not, will be up to Pepper in the end. They just don't know it.
10. Specialties: Long range fighting, close range fighting, immensly flexible, and on several occasions has displayed a natural night vision.

"When a man has nothing left to lose, he only has everything to gain."

- Name: Leo Wise
- Alias: Magnicida dios (The god slayer) – Alias given to him by numerous latin gangs.
- Age: 31

- Gender: Male

- Appearance: 2 meters tall (~6'7"). 225 lbs. Heavily muscled. Broad shoulders. Medically incapable of growing any body hair. Brown eyes. No scars. Has a completely symmetrical full body tattoo without gang or prison symbols.

- Weapon(s): Will use whatever he gets his hands on. Enjoys knives and daggers, but recognizes their limited effectiveness against SIN soldiers. Personal preference is to have a Vindicator and Leveler. The Dogma is a close runner up to the pistols.
(Despite being ambidextrous and incredibly coordinated, he won't two-fist pistols unless he desperately needs to get a lot of shots flying and doesn't really care where they hit. He understands that one well placed shot can do a lot more than dozens of bullets flying through the air.)

- Supplies: He has no personal items, and no supplies of his own beyond a single set of clothes. He wears his tattered, prison issued black t-shirt; and old pair of military issued, dark green cargo pants; military issued combat boots. Anything they think he might need, they hold on to as long as possible.

- Conviction: First record of him in the system was at 12 years old. In the 19 years since, he has an gotten an impressive sheet. This sheet holds the last set of official records. Whether he has actually done all of this is irrelevant in the eyes of the law. He confessed and was convicted.

14 counts of murder.
3 counts of grand larceny.
2 counts of kidnapping.
28 counts of assault.
6 counts of arson.
5 counts of illegal possession of military grade hardware.
2 counts theft of military vehicles.
10 counts of manslaughter.
3 counts of rape.
*Juvenile record has been expunged.*

- Persona: Leo has been scaring the shit out of psychiatrists for 20 years. Once the psychiatrists started comparing notes, they began to see some obvious contradictions. They can all agree that he seems to be completely amoral, but it has been difficult to give him a definite label of "sociopath." Just about all psychological labels he has received have been challenged by one doctor or another. There is one undeniable conclusion about him, however. He knows how to manipulate.

- Bio: With the chaos of the invasion, records of his past are hard to find. He isn't even too sure what his real life has been like. Not because of amnesia, but he has been so committed to so many webs of lies he can't tell where the lies end and his memories begin. The truth of the matter is, he really doesn’t care.
Having been in and out of prison since he was 12, he doesn't have any real personal life to describe. By 26 the cycle of simple crimes followed by a quick parole had ended. He was convicted of his first 2 murders, and 3 counts of rape. From that point on, Leo never spent a full year in prison at any time. He always found a way to escape. He would always end up arrested again within a month, though. Oddly enough, despite the violent nature of many of his little crime sprees, not once did he resist arrest. And not once has he killed a guard in his escapes.
The real mystery about him is why he confesses. Every time he is caught, no matter what charge they lay on him, he confesses. He has all the details required for a confession, and never seems to be protecting anyone, so they accept the confession. Judges and District Attorneys love to give speeches about “this time the maniac will not get out to terrorize innocent people.”
Leo is unique among repeat offenders, in that he has never been a part of a prison gang. Most gangs recruit people in prison to help protect them, then once that person gets out, they have a new soldier on the streets. Not only has Leo never joined a gang, he has actively fought against them in and out of prison. There is little legal evidence to support this, but it is well known by guards and other inmates, that in prisons throughout the country Leo would pit multiple gangs against each other.
Sometimes he would act as if he was a member of the gang, and give false information to start an all out war. Other times he had a carefully worked out plan that used every person in the prison, from guards to inmates, to incite the gangs to fight each other. Usually he would use the chaos to take out the leaders of each side, then make his escape from prison.
He didn’t discriminate when it came to gangs, but several large and powerful latin gangs got the most attention. Possibly because they had more influence on the outside, and would spare no expense to try and destroy Leo. They were the ones who coined him the “god slayer,” after he took out the top leaders in three different gangs. Men who were thought to be untouchable, and had locked themselves in veritable fortresses surrounded by their thugs. The guards for those great and untouchable leaders never saw Leo go in, never heard him kill their bosses, and never saw him come out. He confessed to the murders when the police caught him, though. And you would have to be damn stupid to confess to something like that if you were innocent.

- Specialties: A life of crime has given Leo an extensive and detailed knowledge of conventional weapons, makeshift weapons and a multitude of explosives. He can improvise a bomb, grenade or land-mine with little effort. He is also able to handle complex military grade explosives like a specialist. If it can kill people or cause damage, he knows something about it. Other than that, he can usually find a way in to or out of anywhere. Using a mixture of technical knowledge, stealth, persuasion, intimidation and misdirection, he has yet to find a prison that he couldn’t get out of or a building he couldn’t get in to.
He can handle a multitude of land vehicles, but doesn't know much about boats, and absolutely nothing about air vehicles. His knowledge of the inner workings of engines and computers is also impressive, thanks to the well stocked prison libraries he had access to from his teenage years and early 20’s. There is also his surprising knowledge of medicine, specifically emergency first aid. However this is not that unusual for lifelong convicts, as the ability to stitch up a wound, set bones and avoid infection is incredibly useful behind bars. Convicts who are targeted by the powerful gangs that control most of prison life often find themselves dead if they end up in the poorly monitored infirmaries.

 

[TimberRattler]

Bumpity. C'mon people it'll be fun

 

[Dizzyfish]

Marcus and Pepper

Marcus felt the sting of desperation in every sweat bead that trickled down his forehead. The sun was high. Too high in fact, for a man of his age to be traversing in the deserts of Earth without hydration. He had been running, possibly for a half hour straight. Back in his younger years, he could have run for miles without tiring. They just built them tougher back in the time he remembered real men being just that. Now, he watched guys half his age fall down in mere minutes and the next, dead in the manner in which they fell.

But Marcus wasn't running from just anything. Even SIN wasn't this persistent. They usually waited for humans to be flushed out and then take them out when they were exhausted. No, these were just human thugs. Scavengers out to take his weapons and supplies. There was no shame in it. Survival didn't always call for noble actions, it was every man for himself. And these assholes probably had someone back home waiting for them to return with something to keep them going. Marcus was just being nice of course and he was damned if someone was going to put their grubby hands on what was rightfully his.

His legs were being pushed beyond their current ability and his lungs and every muscle in his body burned hot like fire. If the six guys on his heels were going to end his miserable existence, it was going to be face to face. His fists swinging and nothing else. Marcus slowed, allowing the full force of fresh air to invade his flaring nostrils. My GOD these dicks were fast, as they circled him in an attempt to cut off escape routes.

"Al...alright." He breathed heavily, throwing his hands into the air.

"Drop your weapons meat bag." One of the burly thugs warned, retrieving a gleaming blade from beneath his jacket.

"Can't do that... take what else you want. But the weapon is mine.." The ex-Federation soldier returned to his full height, towering a few of the younger thugs that stared at him in what appeared to be fear; quite possibly desperation, both seemed to be the same these days.

"I wasn't asking bitch." The fat one reached for Marcus's gun, his hand gripped around the barrel and attempted to tug, but the soldier was too quick for that, and put his own grip over the reaching hand.

"You can walk away from this. I said take whatever else you want. Leave my weapon be. Walk away with that as a good trade. Don't be a hero..." He warned. But when did they ever listen? Today was no different.

The thug continued his persistent thievery of Marcus's weapon all the while his fellow goons now cautiously stepping back as if something standing in their midst was suddenly more frightening than their current boss. "What the fuck are you assholes doing? Get his shit!"

"Umm.. Boss?"

The red dot sight lingered upon the crotch of the thug's pants. He looked down and back at Marcus nervously as if he was responsible. Marcus too looked down and then back at the meat head with a hardened stare. "I told you not to be a hero..... You can walk away...." His eyes narrowed just slightly, but the thief wasn't having any of this and aimed his knife sure and true.

That was before the, "bullet," left its metal prison and shattered the thugs manhood, his pride and joy into a thousand bloody pieces. The gore of his prick staining the desert floor below. The rest of the group scattered about like cockroaches when the lights turned on. The red dot only followed them, but never fired, keeping the group moving at all times.

They picked up their screaming boss and made a failed attempt to get as far away from Marcus as possible, a small trail of blood following close behind. The soldier picked up his fallen weapon just as his ebon haired companion stepped from her hiding place. Her own high powered rifle hanging at her side. She blinked methodically, her receptors focusing in the gleaming sun.

"That was cutting it a bit close..."

Pepper blinked again, her brain computing thoughts before speaking. "You were in no real danger Captain Marcus."

"He could have stabbed me."

"You tend to be very stabbable." Pepper put away her rifle, back upon her back beneath the safety of her cloak.

"Why did you have to take out his nethers? That's a man's pride and joy you know." Marcus joined his partner and the two continued walking the ruined streets of New York; the pain in his lower region caused only by the sight of another man's dismay.

"Good. Then he will never forget it." Pepper stopped and put her hand up to stop Marcus dead in his tracks. She was eying the horizon, zooming in on nearby buildings. She was almost certain that they were close. "There." She pointed, a tiny spec off in the distance.

Marcus squinted. If Pepper said it was there, it was there and he continued. They would be at the prison on top of a few hours. Just more walking. There was always walking.....

 

[Nidhogg]

-Leo Wise-

The penicillin cultures were requiring constant monitoring. Of course the books said fed-batch cultures were simple to do. They assumed anyone doing it would have access to halfway decent lab equipment, or would only be doing a small batch for some dumb science project. Providing antibiotics to four hundred people with jury-rigged medical equipment and scavenged parts was more of a hassle than what Leo Wise had agreed to. He had hoped that by agreeing to run the lab, he'd have an important enough job to be left alone to work on his own projects. There were plenty of things he could be doing right now instead of being a damn lab monkey.

"Muh-Mister Wise?" Another one of the former inmates had been delegated to the task of collecting the medicine from Leo's lab. The laundry room Leo had confiscated was deep enough in the facility that he wouldn't have to deal with foot traffic, and the ventilation system was adequate. As long as this new kid didn't ask Leo to cook up meth or moonshine, he'd make a decent gopher.

Leo scratched his bare chest and pulled the surgeon's mask down. "The penicillin batch is ready and the rubbing alcohol are in those clear bottles by the door. Tell the 'doctor' up there that he needs to be more stingy on the supplies. This shit is not easy to make."

The success rate of the cultures was only 50%, and after that, there was only an 80% success rate of getting the penicillin in to capsule form. The fact that Leo was able to set this lab up with knowledge from encyclopedias and high-school GED science books was pretty fucking amazing as far as he was concerned. He would be annoyed that people weren't thanking him for this, but if they thanked him that would mean he'd have to talk to them.

The rubbing alcohol was easier to make, but the basic ingredients for the ethanol were growing scarce. That's the problem when he needed what everyone was eating to make it. Isopropyl alcohol was the only other option Leo had, but he'd need petroleum and a much more complicated set up for it. He would deal with that issue some other time.

Leo brought the plastic bottle with 50 basic anti-biotic capsules over to the kid. After the last small bottle of rubbing alcohol was loaded on to the laundry cart, Leo tossed the sealed bottle on with them. "Tell the scavengers I need more tools down here, alright?"

The nervous young man opened his mouth to say something, but ended up nodding instead. It was clear from his face that he wanted to ask about the tattoos. Leo has made it clear many, many times that he doesn't answer personal questions. Especially about his ink. Leo knew that if he left those cultures unattended for a minute, something bad would happen. With a groan that bordered on a growl, he grabbed on of the science textbooks and sat on the empty crate to look up propylene gas. Leo had honestly believed they'd all be dead long before he had supply issues. He wasn't sure how to feel about still being alive.

 

[Dizzyfish]

Marcus and Pepper

Raising a hand towards the sky, Marcus looked longingly into the blaring light. It hadn't rained here in a long long while. The summers were starting to stretch across the twelve month period of Earth's year, making water more and more scarce than it had been in a long, long time. Even before SIN had arrived, humanity was wearing thin it's resources, almost like raping Earth without buying her dinner at the very least. Marcus didn't want to be alive when Earth finally just said, 'Fuck this.' That was a bitter cold day in November somewhere in the nearing future.

"Are you slowing down Captain Marcus?" Pepper asked as nonchalantly as possible, still onward towards their destination.

Marcus noted that nothing stopped these things. They were rugged, outlasting despite being both organic and inorganic. There was sweat pouring down from the sides of his face, so bad it felt like he was swimming in his own bodily fluids. He had been so concerned with the heat he forgot that he had stopped mid step. "No, just admiring the view. I like this New York. Far too many ass holes before this. At least SOMETHING good came of the invasion."

"Good. Then continue. I don't want to carry you the rest of the way." Pepper's long hair was concealed behind a thick hood. How she could carry on like that with such heavy robes was beyond him.

"Aw, you would carry me the rest of the way? I am flattered."

"Don't be Captain Marcus. I would have dragged you by your appendages the rest of the way there."

"Ah. Point made." The male hurried on towards Pepper who eyed him briefly and then back to her blank stare of the horizon. They still had a great distance to travel, but she was not in the least worn down.

Her kind did not need sleep as humans do for their bodies did not deteriorate rapidly after time. When their inorganic brain was outdated, they shut down. That was the end of their programming, hundreds of years into the future. Being only one-hundred and twenty years old made her rather young. Pepper had a long time before she lost her mind. However, playing guardian angel to Marcus would cut that time in half.

"Tell me something Pepper. We have been traveling for hours. Why haven't they done a sweep of Earth?" Marcus asked quizzically.

Pepper stopped short and turned to the sky as if one was ready to happen at any moment. Her mind was processing information at such a rapid rate Marcus hadn't the time to turn around and follow her gaze. "One is not scheduled today Captain Marcus."

"Why not?" He asked, as if frustrated by the notion. He loved the idea of taking them down as much as the next chump, but why even hover so menacingly over a planet you took no notice of?

"Not necessary. We have been over this. Earthlings will destroy themselves. Why send out the Calvary if your enemy is better at slitting its own throats?" She paused, trying to find a way to make her conversation more.. emotional. "They hope that flying above you might frighten you into doing something you wont have time to regret before you are dead. Scare tactics Captain Marcus. Not unlike your persons of war."

"I guess it feels weird when the tables are turned."

"Human beings are not different from us Captain Marcus. You believe yourselves Gods amongst the stars. The only viable difference is twelve thousand years of evolution. If your species lives through this onslaught, you may see the dawn of a new era for humanity...."

 

[DeathsKnight]

David Sherman

David tirelessly scanned the ruins around them from the guard tower, in on corner the hulking mass of flesh named Frank Kennedy sat, watching him as he thoughtfully chewed on purple Jelly Tots that was washed to remove the sugar coating.

"David, why are you up here? We will have warning when S.I.N. soldier comes close."

"Yes Frank that is true, but I don't trust machines quite that much, while I am able I would rather be a EWS than a dead duck."

Frank frowned,

"EWS? You want to be sheep?"

David chuckled,

"Early Warning System Frank, but that was a good image you gave me now."

Frank nodded and continued to slowly chew on his candy,

"Do you think S.I.N. will come soon? I feel bored, I can only pick up weights so many times."

David smiled,

"You know Frank, I think you must be the only human that I know, that would want the S.I.N. to come along."

Frank shrugged,

"That is because the others fear them, I enjoy them."

David could have sworn that he saw movement and went quiet as he stared through the high magnification scope...just a piece of plastic. He kept on scanning,

"Yes Frank and the only way to kill the S.I.N. is to tear them apart, that helps when you are 7 feet and look like The Hulk."

Frank looked up, a strange glitter in his eyes,

"Green or Grey Hulk?"

"Merged Hulk of course, the best of both Hulks."

Frank chuckled and stared out at what was left of the city.