SLAUGHTERHOUSE SCRAMBLE!
Staring down at the streets below, he tapped his datapad lazily with the remains of a pen.
The pad contained the daily download, telling him all the relevant news of the city, as deemed by the mighty conglomerates that policed the sheep of a society that milled about in the gridlike maze below.
He sighed, leaning back and took a drag from a jibstick.
Exhaling, he thought about the previous year. all the events that had led him to where he was today. It was pretty much the anniversary of him overthrowing Toller and his empire. It hadnt taken long after he'd broadcast the news to the people about just how dirty Toller's Organisation was. No matter how ignorant the people were even they couldnt ignore the truth, especially when he vented it on every major media outlet, including the tube, web and the source.
It had been a long year since then, and the country was only just recovering from all the damage that had been done. The only problem was that Toller wasnt in charge anymore. That ship had sailed, and Riot has seen to that.
He leaned back onto the cold brickwall behind him. It offered a reassuring chill reaffirming that he was in fact still alive, and that he had managed to survive Tollers onslaught. Six months solid of assassination attempts, not one day where he'd managed to get more than a few hours sleep. He was run ragged. No longer able to think straight he'd gone completley insane, and actually started hunting assassins and anyone he could think of before they could get to him. He'd singlehandedly nearly wiped out the business in the entire country, and all those stupid enough to enter it to take a shot at him. In the end Toller could do nothing but admit defeat, even after attempting to hire Riots own ex-partner, the Lady, in a last ditch attempt to bring him down.
It didnt matter though, because every day he was reminded of just what victories Toller had scored. He tapped the pad against his thigh and heard the hollow clank he always had since the day he'd had the legs fitted. It wasnt exactly a high point in his life, but it sure as hell beat the weeks previous. Being a battered torso was a lesson in itself, he wasnt entirely sure on the lesson, but it was definatley one.
A message notice popped up on his datapad, it was a mail from an old associate. It was bad news. Despite all his efforts in wiping out anyone competent enough to hold a trigger with enough balls to even consider aiming a barrel at him, he'd practically gutted the crime system to such a degree that it was now open season. There were rumours of spreads taking hold in all four corners and this had to be stopped. There were also even worse rumours of the new leader to take charge of the country. But for some reason, Riot had this nagging feeling that somehow toller just wasnt quite done with just yet. It started to rain as he took another drag from the stick and he began to cough.
That was weird, he never coughed. it didnt happen when he was smoking, not since he was 14. something was wrong.
He rolled over to one side coughing maniacially. something was definatley wrong. he stared at the datapad as if it offered some form of explanation. what the hell was going on? Viral attack? old age? had his lungs finally given in? The screen of the datapad began to fizzle and crackle. it exploded in his hands and static took over his vision. Everything looked like he was watching it through an antique screen. His eyes were failing. He made his best efforts to stand up. but it was like standing in tar, he could barely move, and everything was slowly turning green. this was unlike any viral attack he'd ever heard of! he'd taken precautions for the vast majority, whatever this was it was something special.
He reeled back as a staggering blow struck him directly in the forehead. He blinked multiple times and slowly everything faded from view and he saw his former companion in arms screaming at him. Fantastic, he was either delusional and hallucinating, or he was going to wake up to have her actually screaming at him. Either way, he'd rather be somewhere else.
His brain laughed at him as he got what he wanted.
The Lady wrenched the goldfish bowl style helmet off him and the liquid drenched the rest of the container. The smoke of frying electronics in the background tasted oddly familiar as she smacked him in the face and everything became more obvious.
"You owe me BIG TIME for this save." she yelled and dragged his limp body out of the machine.
The pad contained the daily download, telling him all the relevant news of the city, as deemed by the mighty conglomerates that policed the sheep of a society that milled about in the gridlike maze below.
He sighed, leaning back and took a drag from a jibstick.
Exhaling, he thought about the previous year. all the events that had led him to where he was today. It was pretty much the anniversary of him overthrowing Toller and his empire. It hadnt taken long after he'd broadcast the news to the people about just how dirty Toller's Organisation was. No matter how ignorant the people were even they couldnt ignore the truth, especially when he vented it on every major media outlet, including the tube, web and the source.
It had been a long year since then, and the country was only just recovering from all the damage that had been done. The only problem was that Toller wasnt in charge anymore. That ship had sailed, and Riot has seen to that.
He leaned back onto the cold brickwall behind him. It offered a reassuring chill reaffirming that he was in fact still alive, and that he had managed to survive Tollers onslaught. Six months solid of assassination attempts, not one day where he'd managed to get more than a few hours sleep. He was run ragged. No longer able to think straight he'd gone completley insane, and actually started hunting assassins and anyone he could think of before they could get to him. He'd singlehandedly nearly wiped out the business in the entire country, and all those stupid enough to enter it to take a shot at him. In the end Toller could do nothing but admit defeat, even after attempting to hire Riots own ex-partner, the Lady, in a last ditch attempt to bring him down.
It didnt matter though, because every day he was reminded of just what victories Toller had scored. He tapped the pad against his thigh and heard the hollow clank he always had since the day he'd had the legs fitted. It wasnt exactly a high point in his life, but it sure as hell beat the weeks previous. Being a battered torso was a lesson in itself, he wasnt entirely sure on the lesson, but it was definatley one.
A message notice popped up on his datapad, it was a mail from an old associate. It was bad news. Despite all his efforts in wiping out anyone competent enough to hold a trigger with enough balls to even consider aiming a barrel at him, he'd practically gutted the crime system to such a degree that it was now open season. There were rumours of spreads taking hold in all four corners and this had to be stopped. There were also even worse rumours of the new leader to take charge of the country. But for some reason, Riot had this nagging feeling that somehow toller just wasnt quite done with just yet. It started to rain as he took another drag from the stick and he began to cough.
That was weird, he never coughed. it didnt happen when he was smoking, not since he was 14. something was wrong.
He rolled over to one side coughing maniacially. something was definatley wrong. he stared at the datapad as if it offered some form of explanation. what the hell was going on? Viral attack? old age? had his lungs finally given in? The screen of the datapad began to fizzle and crackle. it exploded in his hands and static took over his vision. Everything looked like he was watching it through an antique screen. His eyes were failing. He made his best efforts to stand up. but it was like standing in tar, he could barely move, and everything was slowly turning green. this was unlike any viral attack he'd ever heard of! he'd taken precautions for the vast majority, whatever this was it was something special.
He reeled back as a staggering blow struck him directly in the forehead. He blinked multiple times and slowly everything faded from view and he saw his former companion in arms screaming at him. Fantastic, he was either delusional and hallucinating, or he was going to wake up to have her actually screaming at him. Either way, he'd rather be somewhere else.
His brain laughed at him as he got what he wanted.
The Lady wrenched the goldfish bowl style helmet off him and the liquid drenched the rest of the container. The smoke of frying electronics in the background tasted oddly familiar as she smacked him in the face and everything became more obvious.
"You owe me BIG TIME for this save." she yelled and dragged his limp body out of the machine.