[b]Cole Walker, alias [color=slateblue]Mr. Nil[/color]
Location: Mr. Nil's Bunker, Lower Southwest End
Time: 2:49 AM
Currently in the process of researching for a theory.[/b][hr]Among the many derelict buildings in Centerville's Lower Southwest End, there was a specialized bunker. It was painstakingly crafted during the 1950s when fears of nuclear Armageddon were high, in order to house around fifty people for at least ten years. It was stocked with non-perishable cans of food, a water dispenser, and bare, spartan bedrooms. However, after the Cold War was over it was abandoned, still stocked with all of its essentials, and left to rot.

That was, until seven years ago, when the vigilante known as [i][b][color=slateblue]Mr. Nil[/color][/b][/i] made it his home. Making it into a utilitarian outpost, it was stocked with bulletin board after bulletin board of tacked on notes for various conspiracies, a 'monitor room' with multiple computer screens all synced into various cameras around the city, and the [i]pièce de résistance[/i], the research center. Stationed in Mr. Nil's bedroom, all it contained was his bed, a desk, and his laptop. To most it would appear that it was just the bedroom of someone who can't afford nice things, but no, in this room a lot goes on.

Currently, the conspiracy theorist was typing away on his laptop, a bulky, beat up thing running Windows XP. His mask was set off to the side, Cole's bloodshot blue eyes staring intently at the screen as gloved fingers danced across the keyboard. Delving deep within the vast place known as the internet, the fedora enthusiast would be pleased to find a wealth of knowledge on this theory. An article proposing it here, a leaked image here, it was all falling right into place.

Soon, the world would know.

[i]Soon, they would know the truth about the crop circles.[/i]

[b][i]Soon, they would know that the GIRL SCOUTS WERE BEHIND THEM ALL ALONG![/i][/b]

[color=slateblue]"Breathe... Breathe... Don't get too excited."[/color] The ex-military man muttered to himself, slowing his racing heart. He always got a little... Hyperactive when thinking about his theories. Perhaps it would be best to just relax for the night, let off some steam.

Cole nodded to himself. Letting off some steam sounded good.

With a sigh, he grabbed his helmet and slid it on. 

Cole closed his eyes.

Mr. Nil opened them.

Setting off from the bunker, the man walked through the city streets with hands in pockets, searching for crime. This being the southwest end, of course there was crime, and he didn't have to wander too long to find it. Not even a street away from his lair he heard a scream emanating from a nearby alleyway, that of a woman. Probably a rape, maybe a mugging, or both.

The moon cast his long shadow through the alley way, and glinted off the steel blade held to the young woman's throat. Mr. Nil walked forward slowly, confidently, grabbing the lid off of a garbage can. The burglar turned, finally noticing the masked man, and his eyes widened. Before he had a chance to react, the lid was thrown like a frisbee at him, nailing him in the nose and causing him to fall backwards. The woman ran, still screaming, and Mr. Nil knelt down beside the man.

[color=slateblue]"Criminal scum,"[/color] his mask included a voice modulator, deepening it to an unnatural quality, [color=slateblue]"you are too weak to see the light. You are compromised, corrupted. Failure as a human being."[/color] The masked man raised a fist, bringing it down hard on the man's face, knocking him out cold. The vigilante hogtied him, leaving behind his black and white calling card before going to a phone booth to get the police to the location to haul the man off. They wouldn't find him on their own here, barely any cops venture into the lower southwest end.

Not long after the vigilante made his way back home, content that he had let off some steam. He made his way into the food storage, a seemingly endless stock of canned corn, green beans, baked beans, peas, and yams. Grabbing a can of baked beans, Nil removed his mask and became Cole, opening up the can with his pocket knife and grabbing a fork to dig in. Taking a seat in his room, he ate, staring intently at his computer screen.

[i][color=slateblue]'I'm gonna get those damn girl scouts,'[/color][/i] he thought to himself, [i][color=slateblue]'their lies will be exposed.'[/color][/i]

[b][i]*Raunch* *Raunch* *Raunch*[/i][/b]

[i][color=slateblue]'... Damn these are good beans.'[/color][/i]