[color=6ecff6][b]Prototype 2[/b][/color]

[color=lightslategray]"Can't blame you for not liking it. Don't know why, but no matter what flavor they seem to use they can't get a good one out of it."[/color]

Flavor? She turned towards the voice, glancing over the woman of average height, wearing a hood. Odd, for there wasn't supposed to be that many people at this particular road. The woman had not asked her about her attire nor seemed curious about her in general however, so she seemed to be safe for now. Even if her suspicions were roused, Prototype could always use that excuse Maxwell taught her. Her mind however, wandered back to what the woman said.

[color=6ecff6]"They can't?"[/color]

So no matter what this doctor tried, they never managed to make a good drink? That was rather sad. She remembered the red drink she had in Japan. Perhaps this doctor too tried to attain that perfect sweetness, someone like her with a fervent desire for that perfect drink. It even had almost the same color.

She gulped down the last of the drink, and threw the can with almost perfect accuracy into a garbage bin. Almost automatically, she spoke, her words lifeless and generic. Just one of the pre-programmed responses she had.

[color=6ecff6]"Did you need anything of me?"[/color]