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Zorlo sat quietly. Five months. He'd been here five months. Were it not for the food and places to DO things, he'd have probably lost his mind. Thoughts of revenge had faded, but he knew that this life couldn't last forever. Soon he'd return home… he guessed, and get back to his favorite pass time of warcrimes and murder. His gun and bayonets sat quietly, along with the half-dozen knives Zachary carried, as the two awaited rescue.

Zachary had been a child soldier in the Chechen War against the Soviet Union… one that had ended in bloody failure. Zachary had bloodlines linking him to the Norwegians, and some of that seemed to be a rage he could harness. After months of experimentation, they'd learn to let him turn this on and off like a switch. His use of knives came from an inability to refine his all too dangerous motor skills with guns like this. Not to mention when paired with some of the world's best body armor, he was nearly impossible to kill without utterly destroying the one useful part of him: his brain.

Zorlo, on the other hand, had been an experiment of unnatural causes. A mix of radiation therapy and gene therapy had awakened some higher level of thinking and movement. Still, it didn't come without cost. He wouldn't live longer than fifty, most likely, and his super human capacity weren't really that super human. Still, he could move fast, strike hard and deal with most people. Along with his metal lined jacket, he hadn't suffered too many grievous wounds.

Thoughts of revenge had faded away as the two had remained. Partially out of laziness, and partially out of the fact it WAS in some small part, their fault. Still, somewhere, the thoughts of battle festered. It was an inescapable feeling… the one that this was a dream and he would return to the real world soon. It was… pretty awful.

Alis entered her mother's office with Zessica, "Well look who it is, the two lazy bums, come to beg for money?" said Mrs. with contempt, "No mother, we just came to tell you that we actually support your idea of rescuing the KGB losers who knocked out Pam and Cheryl and just happen to be homicidal maniacs, "Say what you will, but under no circumstances are you to disturb Krieger with his plan to bring them back to earth." said Mrs. Archer, "Trust me mother, I don't have to." said Alis.

*Krieger's lab*


"Yup, I'm sure Krieger is doing fine." said Alis.

"You ever have the feeling that life might be worth more than endless combat and murder?" Zorlo asked Zachary.

The boy quirked his eye and shrugged. "I can't say I'm sure what that life would be like," he stated.

In earnest, the two had never had a real life. THey had both been slated to be types of soldiers from the day they were born. That fruition had only come to a halt while they had been left in space. The concept of Stockholm syndrome was now kicking in. They were prisoners in their own minds, contemplating the awful things they'd done to their fellow man.

Still, truth didn't deny the reality. They were trapped because of someone who was probably an equally psychotic person.

"Oh, I plan to murder her anyway, but that was decided long, LONG before she left me in luxury in space," he stated as he stood up and cracked his back. "Time to get back to training," he stated as he began to stretch himself and start working out again.

Zachary took the sign as a point of getting back to preparing to murder EVERYONE. He'd laugh about it later, but for now he'd keep that in control. After all, they hadn't annoyed him enough yet to deserve murder.

*ISIS break room*
Alis and Zessica were in the break room drinking coffee, "Do you honestly think Krieger can bring somebody back from space?" asked Zessica, "Please, all the man does is build sex robots and get high, name me one time he actually did something useful for ISIS?" said Alis, "He did build you the Griffon." said Zessica, the Griffon is Alis's tricked out car, complete with weapons and gadgets, "Good point." said Alis, "But I still think he's not doing much in getting those two cosmonauts back home." said Alis

*Krieger's lab*

Zorlo had never, before that moment, wondered if all the people he'd killed had been necessary. The longer he remained on this station, the longer the contemplation built. He wasn't quite sure how to handle it… Still, part of him enjoyed the thrill of combat. But now… he didn't want to fight to kill people. Country became more and more irrelevant… now he just wanted to settle his score with the woman Haruka. After that, well… he would figure it out.

As for Zachary, time spent on the space station was dulling him. BOth the six trench knives he carried and his own skills. The unhinged rage he had been able to tap into for years had seemingly simmered away. He'd even been learning English from Zorlo, something he'd resisted doing for years. Now that he had time… and boredom, he wanted to figure out what else life had besides violence.

((This RP will be in hold for a while, my mind isn't exactly organized enough right now.))