Big Red 
Team B 

Big red was not what you would call a patient man. In fact he was not a man at all but rather a hulking red demon with gigantic horns, and a well tailored three piece suit. He waited on the corner of Brimstone Avenue, a wildly extravagant section of hell something akin to the Las Vegas strip. The passerby's hung their heads as they walked by, while Red seemed to glare straight through them. [b] "shoulda been here by now" [/b] he muttered while chewing on a fat cigar. 

Quite honestly Big Red wasn't sure why he agreed to sponsor this group of recruits. He could be partying right now, celebrating the 10 year anniversary of the Great wars end. He knew it wasn't a sense of duty or honor, because he was completely incapable of those feelings. Idly he considered leaving, and then decided against it. Some of these new collectors could prove [i] useful [/i] in the future. With a puff of thick black smoke, Red leaned back onto the nearby wall of a hotel and waited.