[color=f7941d][center]Weapon Hexx[/center][/color] "Never did like these big cities. Folk all living on top of each other, dying on top of each other." The cowboy out of time stepped up near the edge of the metal platform in the middle of a sea and hunkered down on his haunches looking down into it's depths. New York City stretched out below them, somewhere in that murky expanse. He'd tried to stay away from the big cities and never made his way to the big oceans while he was living. It was always prairie or desert or mountains, always moving. Made it to the Gulf of Mexico but that don't really count. When he came back they'd kept him mostly working in the Heartland. Chasing the wickedness men got up to far from the prying eyes of big city life. Here he was now, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in the middle of New York City, surrounded by some few million dead. "United States won the war in my world, course I was still a corpse when we did. Other countries helped too." Rising up he dusted himself off, more out of habit than need, and moved back away from the edge. He could swim well enough, wasn't entirely sure he really needed to breathe anymore, but testing that out didn't seem productive. "New York City was big for us too but it weren't no aquarium. I was dead for a while, like I said, so sometimes I can talk with the recently departed. Sort of. Like the kid said though, I'm getting nothing out here. No souls. Too far down maybe, or too far gone. Don't like this place. Too many dead, too quiet." Great expanses of land felt like home, great expansive cities felt like a giant trash dump on top of what might otherwise have been a fine home, great seas felt like some other creatures domain never meant for man. This place, a great city turned into a great grave beneath a great sea, felt like an abomination. A natural abomination but an abomination all the same. He dug his fingers into a tin of Spam and made himself as comfortable as he could manage on this strange platform in stranger seas.