Mimic's Wastelander Application

The burning hot sun rose upon the dusty wastes of what was once Los Angeles, now rendered a nuclear devastation from the bombs of the Great War. The trickling rays of light beat against a shoddily built scrap shack that served as respite from the roasting sun. A series of groans and grunts sounded from within the rusted shack before the make-shift door was thrown open by a not-so-happy Nightkin. He rubbed at his eyes, soon after covering them from the blinding light of the high morning. The hulking blue beast spun on his heel to face the shack, breathing much like an asthmatic. He opened his large mouth to yell out in a surprisingly intelligent voice; for a nightkin at least, "You have no decency do you? When I tell you not to stink out the scouting shack with your horrendous gas you rip from your rear I mean it, you thick-skulled moron." to which a deep and brute-like voice replied from within "You are wimp! Like human! You scared of smell! Haha!" before a large and mean green super mutant clambered out the shack alongside his traveling companion. The Nightkin soon replied "I'm not scared of smell, I'm scared I'll contract your stupidity through inhaling your gasses." lifting his large hand to cover his nose, the horrid smell leaking out into the deserted wastes. The brute inhaled proudly, filling his nostrils with stench. "I like smell! It smell like what I ate!" soon after a booming laugh emitting from the depths of his lungs, "You are too much like little human, Slan. You are weak." a moment of tense silence passed, in a swift flash the Nightkin sent his massive fist forward into the gut of the large supermutant, winding him easily. The mutant coughed and laughed, the Nightkin stating "For the last time, dum-dum, It's not Slan, it's Sloan. Now go and grab our belongings and that shipment, we need to get back to base."

Sloan had been traveling through the wastes of Los Angeles in search of stealth boys to aid in the creation of more like him, and to further the goals of his Master. Although he was one of the Elite in the Master's army; a first generation supermutant given stealth boys, appropriate stealth-orientated assault gear and trained to become a Nightkin due to his intelligence and physical prowess exceeding those of regular mutants. He had been assigned to scouting due to the need of more stealth boys, known within the ranks to have a good eye, able to spot things of interest and track them down like a blood-hound which led to the designation of his current duties. The Master's army was still strong and powerfully striding toward the goal of the Unity with current success. He had lost contact with his commanding officer Lieutenant due to his companion Dan (who referred to himself as dan-dan, often called dum-dum) "accidently" breaking the handheld radio he used to receive orders and relay information back to the vault. The duo were nearing the ridge just north of the Cathedral, a good vantage point for watching over the surroundings. As Sloan and Dan-dan approached the ridge, a billowing cloud of black smoke trailed off into the sky which they had seen from a while off assuming it was just the cultists doing cultist things again. Soon to their horrid realisation once they had visuals on the Cathedral, they saw it in smouldering ruins along with a large amount of the ground and surroundings collapsed. Many explosions sounded, the vault beneath destroyed. Sloan collapsed onto his knees, staring toward what was once his home now rendered ablaze.

Sloan had lost all hopes, the Master gone and his companions dead, he had no-one to give him orders or any reason to stay in one place. Instead, Sloan and Dan decided to wander the wastes in search of a new purpose, and a new way to continue the Unity as best as he could, and follow in his Master's footsteps. The duo headed east and continued on this path aimlessly. Decades passed with a few encounters and hopes to resurrect the Master's army, but all attempts had failed due to the distaste most humans had for mutants and caused all hope within the lost Nightkin to collapse, instead of seeking to continue the Master's plans, he headed as east as he could far away from his past to the swampy wastes of Maryland where he settled and remained, sustaining himself through hunting and scavenging, avoiding most encounters with those sought out to harm.

Now seventy eight years after the destruction of the Master's army and 2,705 miles from Los Angeles, Sloan was left as a remnant of the first generation. Slithers of hope still lingered within him for the eventual unity of man and mutant but was far off. His dangerous encounters with humans had left him dismantled and outcast. His story continues now.