Anarchy burger! Hold the government!
Lonnie Machin, AKA Anarky, is a difficult person to find. Mostly because he's supposed to be dead.
The apartment he's living in is technically supposed to be unoccupied, which technically makes him a squatter, but he doesn't feel particularly guilty about that. Why should people have to pay money for shelter, anyway? His electricity is stolen, but he doesn't use much anyway - his stove is solar-powered, made from cardboard boxes and tinfoil rescued from dumpsters. A small garden, planted in deep wooden boxes he made from lumberyard scraps, occupies a large corner of the apartment. It's fertilized with compost, and everything possible to compost is composted, from leftovers to Lonnie's own, ahem, human waste. (Why contribute to the already-overburdened and poorly managed sewage treatment system?) His food budget is zero - what he can't get from dumpsters or shoplift, he grows, and if he can't get it any of those three ways, he does without.
It is not an easy way to live, but he doesn't mind. It's been a while since he felt like he had his priorities straight, but he's starting to feel that way these days.
He has no phone, but he does have a computer (which he built himself, from stolen electronics) and it's not hard to find an open wireless network. He just has to watch the size of files he wants to bittorrent. And having access to e-mail makes it easier for people who need him to find him.
He has become something of the go-to guy for the people in nearby squats (there are more than you might think in Gotham, and they are generally a pretty tight network) for just about any type of highly-skilled labor. Lately, he's been teaching impromptu classes on installing and repairing electrical wiring. It wasn't hard to learn - nothing has ever been hard for him to learn, to be honest - and it's fun to teach.
It helps him to stave off the feeling that he's being somewhat idle. He has to remind himself often that he's merely waiting.
Bigger things are on their way, if his new contact is half as good as he thinks he is. In the meantime, Lonnie is doing something he hasn't done in a long time, as he dons his red cloak and gold mask and tucks bottles of spray paint into his backpack, preparing for a night of DIY troublemaking, with The Vandals playing on his homemade mp3 player.
He's having fun.
The apartment he's living in is technically supposed to be unoccupied, which technically makes him a squatter, but he doesn't feel particularly guilty about that. Why should people have to pay money for shelter, anyway? His electricity is stolen, but he doesn't use much anyway - his stove is solar-powered, made from cardboard boxes and tinfoil rescued from dumpsters. A small garden, planted in deep wooden boxes he made from lumberyard scraps, occupies a large corner of the apartment. It's fertilized with compost, and everything possible to compost is composted, from leftovers to Lonnie's own, ahem, human waste. (Why contribute to the already-overburdened and poorly managed sewage treatment system?) His food budget is zero - what he can't get from dumpsters or shoplift, he grows, and if he can't get it any of those three ways, he does without.
It is not an easy way to live, but he doesn't mind. It's been a while since he felt like he had his priorities straight, but he's starting to feel that way these days.
He has no phone, but he does have a computer (which he built himself, from stolen electronics) and it's not hard to find an open wireless network. He just has to watch the size of files he wants to bittorrent. And having access to e-mail makes it easier for people who need him to find him.
He has become something of the go-to guy for the people in nearby squats (there are more than you might think in Gotham, and they are generally a pretty tight network) for just about any type of highly-skilled labor. Lately, he's been teaching impromptu classes on installing and repairing electrical wiring. It wasn't hard to learn - nothing has ever been hard for him to learn, to be honest - and it's fun to teach.
It helps him to stave off the feeling that he's being somewhat idle. He has to remind himself often that he's merely waiting.
Bigger things are on their way, if his new contact is half as good as he thinks he is. In the meantime, Lonnie is doing something he hasn't done in a long time, as he dons his red cloak and gold mask and tucks bottles of spray paint into his backpack, preparing for a night of DIY troublemaking, with The Vandals playing on his homemade mp3 player.
He's having fun.