2016.06.02. WIP: Not Your Father's Future.

The rules: Each installment is based on reader input. The next installment is based on the most upvoted comment (but I get bonus points if I can work other comments into it).

Since characters are the result of public suggestions, they're released into the public domain. Artist retains ownership of the art and visual designs. Art is left rough to allow later revisions.

Premise: The characters are a band of mercenaries operating in a futuristic, dystopian West Coast. Imgur decides their collective fates.

Project index: http://imgur.com/gallery/zUXA5

You are an intelligence specialist who signed on with a band of freelancers.

You're in it for the money, the glory... and the modicum of protection offered by having well trained and heavily armed co-workers. You and your sister both went rogue from some agency or another. The specifics of the agency, and its various nefarious activities, will likely be important eventually. This is an oppressive dystopia, after all- shadowy organizations are a dime a dozen, but they do love to show up at the least opportune moments.

You and your sister both have reputations for excellence. Your uncanny ability to identify synths has made people wonder if you're a synth yourself. Your new team refer to you and your sister as "the ambiguously human duo."

Of all the badass things you've done, waiting for test results doesn't rank very high. In your defense, ever since the super AI got free during the second singularity, porn bots have become way more cool.

The nurse confirms that you picked up a virus. You ask the nurse to keep this one off the books. You act embarrassed, but the real reason is you don't want to leave a paper trail. If the specs on the virus are recorded, the Captain of your mercenary troupe will find out that you've been taking on missions behind his back.

At least its not as bad as after your last visit to Neo Francisco when... well... you try not to talk about that mission.

Especially not the accidental marriage.

You tried to argue that it didn't count since she was a synth, but none of your team would have any of it. That's what you get for hanging out with a bunch of lefties that support AI and cyborg civil rights.

If you ever go back to that city again, it'll be too soon.

You finish up with the nurse and get ready. The Captain left to meet with a potential client about a big job. You wonder if you have time to get some McDonalds before he gets back with the briefing.

A: Aside from her being a synth, what's the most embarassing part of your marriage?
B: What military or intelligence specialty is your sister superhumanly good at?