NOTE: This is probably as OOC as it gets, because somehow, Ms. B seems totally upbeat/cool with all of the terrible things that have happened to her. Many apologies, and you've been warned. ;)

When Sherry Birkin was twelve years old, her father had injected himself with a virus that turned him into a monster, stalked her through a town infested with the living dead, and rammed a zombie embryo tainted with the virus down her throat. Somehow, she had survived, humanity intact. She couldn't say the same for her father, the people who had rescued her had apparently shot him many, many times with a machine gun, once or twice with a rocket launcher.

When Sherry Birkin was thirteen, testing- and puberty- began in earnest. The virus had somehow lived on, and she had learned- with the generous help of Uncle Sam's best researchers- that she could get shot, stabbed, and thrown from very great heights and be none the worse for wear. For many years, she was kept in a secure facility, and aside from a few visits from the people who had rescued her from that zombie-infested hellhole, was almost completely alone.

When Sherry Birkin was eighteen, the US government had asked her to become an agent. She declined; all she really wanted to do was move to a tropical island, make a few mistakes, and try to forget the screams her father made when he was blown apart by an uzi. She had explained this, at first calmly, later a bit more forcefully, when in response the government had refused to let her leave her confinement. Many weeks passed by, until the two sides reached a compromise- Sherry would be free to leave after completing her training, which consisted of martial arts, gunplay, and trying to avoid getting shot or skewered or bitten by a zombie/monster dog/monster zombie dog.

When Sherry Birkin turned twenty-six a week ago, her training was complete, and she had been free to roam the world for a grand total of two days. Both of these days were spent in the coldest place in Europe imaginable, hunting down monsters who could have given her father a run for his money, trying to find a man who may be immune to the same virus that had turned her father into a weapon.

When Sherry Birkin found that man alone in a filthy warehouse, he had just injected that very same virus and was fighting a crazed former co-worker/current zombified maniac. He turned to look at her- handsome, rugged, idiotic-but-still-human- and all she could think was please god let this only take an hour before she put on her game face, extended her hand and smiled. "Agent Sherry Birkin." Oh my God I need a vacation.