Post by kanonite on Feb 2, 2019 1:03:28 GMT
He awoke in his rooftop tent, not wanting the sweet embrace of sleep to leave him, the white noise being pumped through his antique ear buds lulling him back.
He stayed there, for what he thought was about half an hour, curled up in a ball before finally deciding it was time to face reality in all it's grey-skied, perma-rainy glory.
Meekly, he removed the ancient earphones and switched off the white noise generator it was hooked to, before grabbing his smartglasses and stepping out of the tent for his morning leak, paying no mind to the water pouring down on him.
As the HUD activated, he looked at the time. 2 PM! He overslept pretty hard, and also didn't eat for the past day, and he could feel it. As soon as he finished pissing into the abandoned alley below, he made his way back to the tent, slipping on his armorjack before rooting around in his backpack for any food.
Shit. Only thing he's got left is a thermos of soy milk and a single, ready to eat Faux-burger. He couldv'e sworn he had atleast left for the next three days.
Though, before he could get to looking over his financials, he had to eat, and so he did. The self-heating faux-meat burger sated his growling feline stomach, while the soy helped wash it down and keep him desirably effeminate.
With that done, it was time to check out how well he was doing in poorbucks. He opened the secret compartment in his jacket and found its contents woefully lacking, only enough for another ready-to-eat and a refill of his soy.
He needed work...or a mark, someone he could filch from.
Seemed that was gonna be his agenda for the day, or what little remained of it.
He reached into his pack and pulled out “The Mask“, that ominous looking bulletproof thing he wore whenever there was a job to do or an unbreathable shithole to walk through.
Removing his glasses and setting them in his jacket, he donned it, and it helped him go from poor soyboy Dennis to thieving motherfucker.
Quickly after this, he packed up his things, fitting the tent and everything else neatly into his backpack before making his way to street level via fire escape.
He slid into the masses, his mask not drawing much attention from the equally freakish crowds of the city. Time to choose a victim.
He needed someone as small and weak looking as he was, yet fairly nice-looking, as people like that tended to be decently-wealthy marks.
Sifting through, he eventually found his target in this petite gold terrier girl in a lovely red coat, only slightly taller than him and not too well-armed looking, bag of groceries in hand.
His cat eyes trained on and he began to shadow her, weaving his way through the crowd until she seperated herself from it, entering an apartment complex, the hybrid quickly following after.
He quickly scoped out the interior, dark and no one else was there. Good. The girl made her way to an elevator and him after her, doing his best to remain unseen and unheard. As soon as the elevator door was about to close, however, he sprung into action.
With a primal leap, he dove in, rapidly pulling out his pulse taser and firing at her. Pure shock and terror was on her face as she twitched her way onto the ground, helpless and too slow to stop her assailant.
As she keeled, he quickly analyzed what he should steal. Those groceries looked nice, but he'd rather choose himself. He quickly slammed several different floor buttons to buy time before getting to pat down.
His feline fingers worked quick, stripping the smartwatch on her right hand, then the red jacket and then reaching into said garment and snagging the wallet, quickly opening it and thumbing through. Score! She had a nice amount of cash on her, which he promptly pocketed before leaving the wallet and the groceries with her.
As soon as a floor was reached, he was out of there, adrenaline and his cyberlegs keeping him going tirelessly for several dozen floors down. When he made it out, he slipped back into the crowd, keeping an eye out for a safe place to catch his breath.
He found it near a place where he knew a good fence, quickly slinking behind its alley's dumpster and pulling off the mask, and then putting his glasses back on, breathing heavily before standing back up and going to sell the loot.
As the adrenaline subsided, the full picture of what he had done set in. He was no different from the scumbags who'd bully and mug him when he was younger, yet thefts like these were what kept food in his belly, and felt more dignified than the kind of porn he was in...
There had to be a better way, but he had no idea what it could be. Legit work was scarce, and those that did have it, like the retriever girl, painted targets on their backs with it. Escape was not an option either, as it could mean having to trudge through the WKGP/WFFA warzones, or abandoned hellholes with biohorrors that gave you AIDS, Gonorrhea and Leprosy all at once, or atleast, that is the story some of the gangers would tell...
He would have time to think about this further once the stuff was sold and he was stocked, yet even as he casually chatted up his contact and sold him the stolen goods, the guilt could not help but pick away at him.
But what was he to do about it?
He did not know...
He stayed there, for what he thought was about half an hour, curled up in a ball before finally deciding it was time to face reality in all it's grey-skied, perma-rainy glory.
Meekly, he removed the ancient earphones and switched off the white noise generator it was hooked to, before grabbing his smartglasses and stepping out of the tent for his morning leak, paying no mind to the water pouring down on him.
As the HUD activated, he looked at the time. 2 PM! He overslept pretty hard, and also didn't eat for the past day, and he could feel it. As soon as he finished pissing into the abandoned alley below, he made his way back to the tent, slipping on his armorjack before rooting around in his backpack for any food.
Shit. Only thing he's got left is a thermos of soy milk and a single, ready to eat Faux-burger. He couldv'e sworn he had atleast left for the next three days.
Though, before he could get to looking over his financials, he had to eat, and so he did. The self-heating faux-meat burger sated his growling feline stomach, while the soy helped wash it down and keep him desirably effeminate.
With that done, it was time to check out how well he was doing in poorbucks. He opened the secret compartment in his jacket and found its contents woefully lacking, only enough for another ready-to-eat and a refill of his soy.
He needed work...or a mark, someone he could filch from.
Seemed that was gonna be his agenda for the day, or what little remained of it.
He reached into his pack and pulled out “The Mask“, that ominous looking bulletproof thing he wore whenever there was a job to do or an unbreathable shithole to walk through.
Removing his glasses and setting them in his jacket, he donned it, and it helped him go from poor soyboy Dennis to thieving motherfucker.
Quickly after this, he packed up his things, fitting the tent and everything else neatly into his backpack before making his way to street level via fire escape.
He slid into the masses, his mask not drawing much attention from the equally freakish crowds of the city. Time to choose a victim.
He needed someone as small and weak looking as he was, yet fairly nice-looking, as people like that tended to be decently-wealthy marks.
Sifting through, he eventually found his target in this petite gold terrier girl in a lovely red coat, only slightly taller than him and not too well-armed looking, bag of groceries in hand.
His cat eyes trained on and he began to shadow her, weaving his way through the crowd until she seperated herself from it, entering an apartment complex, the hybrid quickly following after.
He quickly scoped out the interior, dark and no one else was there. Good. The girl made her way to an elevator and him after her, doing his best to remain unseen and unheard. As soon as the elevator door was about to close, however, he sprung into action.
With a primal leap, he dove in, rapidly pulling out his pulse taser and firing at her. Pure shock and terror was on her face as she twitched her way onto the ground, helpless and too slow to stop her assailant.
As she keeled, he quickly analyzed what he should steal. Those groceries looked nice, but he'd rather choose himself. He quickly slammed several different floor buttons to buy time before getting to pat down.
His feline fingers worked quick, stripping the smartwatch on her right hand, then the red jacket and then reaching into said garment and snagging the wallet, quickly opening it and thumbing through. Score! She had a nice amount of cash on her, which he promptly pocketed before leaving the wallet and the groceries with her.
As soon as a floor was reached, he was out of there, adrenaline and his cyberlegs keeping him going tirelessly for several dozen floors down. When he made it out, he slipped back into the crowd, keeping an eye out for a safe place to catch his breath.
He found it near a place where he knew a good fence, quickly slinking behind its alley's dumpster and pulling off the mask, and then putting his glasses back on, breathing heavily before standing back up and going to sell the loot.
As the adrenaline subsided, the full picture of what he had done set in. He was no different from the scumbags who'd bully and mug him when he was younger, yet thefts like these were what kept food in his belly, and felt more dignified than the kind of porn he was in...
There had to be a better way, but he had no idea what it could be. Legit work was scarce, and those that did have it, like the retriever girl, painted targets on their backs with it. Escape was not an option either, as it could mean having to trudge through the WKGP/WFFA warzones, or abandoned hellholes with biohorrors that gave you AIDS, Gonorrhea and Leprosy all at once, or atleast, that is the story some of the gangers would tell...
He would have time to think about this further once the stuff was sold and he was stocked, yet even as he casually chatted up his contact and sold him the stolen goods, the guilt could not help but pick away at him.
But what was he to do about it?
He did not know...