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Description
The surrounding sounds were slowly being reduced to passing cars, nightwalkers springing to life and the occasional wide-spread threats broadcast by DedSec script kiddies. Stray trash and forgotten flyers were lifted up by the breeze, soft to the touch, yet strong enough to carry them quite a distance. Chicago never slept, and neither times of day were able to present one with the certainty of moving undetected. It had been shaped into a skill, if anything, the ability to find a moment of peace within the ever wielding chaos. And it took an even greater amount of skill to elongate its duration. Rooftops could be considered mostly safe, ever since the CTOS towers were all re-routed to locked servers on a single man's phone. It should've provided said man with the greatest of joys to have each and every surveillance area under his thumb, yet victory could not compare to the overthrowing feeling of emptiness settling within his core. He felt the urge to compare himself to a handful of high-rank hackers hiding out in the depths of growing lines of software expansion, struggling with an undying God-complex.

The mere thought of said analogy, brought him back to a fixer job he was thrown into, not too long ago. Underline the definition of low-rank script kiddie with a bright yellow marker, was in poor taste when considering the array of skills of one certain blackhatter - Defalt. Aiden Pearce's brow furrowed upon the memory of first coming into contact with said hacker. After the hell he had gone through to acquire the data, Damien so highly sought after, and the even greater hell to trace and play Raymond Kenney - he made it out to be mere child's play to get his greedy little paws on that precious data. Aiden should've heeded Ray's words, known not to take his warnings lightly. And to think that all it took was a simple visit to the Ambrose Theather's ConneXion event. It looked so obvious in hindsight, and the blackout at said location, should've been a dead give away, yet Aiden continuously fell for his little games. A man with such vast power at his fingertips, is unlikely to fall for a simple CTOS explosive hacks. Aiden never got the calm feeling of serenity from pressing his metal baton against the man's neck, and to let said baton dance all over the hacker's brittle bones. And for what? To walk away from his lifeless body, like his existence served no greater purpose than to be a mere distraction. It was too simple..

The waves below him, swayed gently along the length of the waterbed, lifting up the tails of Aiden's leather trench coat. Silence had returned to the streets below, and now he had found shelter in the shadows that colored the corners of the rooftop's interior structures. Silence, to be broken by disgruntled voices making nearby eardrums aware of the brewing storm, that was slowly building in the grey-colored sky above. As slow as the alternation of shades within the clouds were visible, the accompanying downfall of raindrops sped up the process. Life below simultaneously sped up its pace, speeding through the open streets and down abandoned alleyways, just to find some kind of shelter from mother nature's episode. Aiden didn't share their state of mind - he never had. The rough embrace of the unpredictable elements failed to weigh down on him. Instead, they enforced whichever emotion lay dormant at that time. Slowly and without caution, the lines of water trailed down the visor of his black cap, left to follow the path towards and down the curvature of his cheekbones, nose-bridge and jawline. It was that sensation, that made the 42-year old man close his heavy eyelids, and suck in the polluted air that moved all around his shrouded frame. Defalt was but a mere pawn within the greater picture, in the end, his aim was locked solely on Kenney. Aiden served as nothing but a middleman, tossed into the mix by mere coincidence. Or was there more to the algorithm of life's events? A pawn, that stood in the clear and direct path toward securing his sister's safety. Well, what one could consider direct.. Damien was sure to find ways to place his personal pawns carefully and with intent. Nothing was left up to mere coincidence with this radical soul .. Aiden shifted the corners of his mouth slightly as memories of his family rushed back to him, in brief intervals. Almost synchronized with the growling sky that draped him, the memories lost their transparency, coloring themselves with more vivid colors, the closer the man allowed them to his core being.

Nicole's reactions were mild, in hindsight. Distraught and unknowing how to specifically handle the flow of emotion after the revelation, but mild nonetheless. It had been Brenk's last pawn .. the specific pawn he had clutched onto, clenched within his palm throughout the entire ordeal, placed between two blood relatives before his inevitable demise.. Aiden slowly opened his eyes, allowing cerulean irises to wander across the length of the roof's concrete edge. What once was held so dearly to his heart, now begged for his release. Hell scratched no surface compared to the numbness that devoured his soul, yet he harbored an inability to place it within secure borders due to its host. He obliged to his little sister, granted her final wish to be guided into anonymity, for the sake of her young child.. And though it ate away at him, Aiden would be damned to hold her responsible for the guilt that traced the countless of pathways worth of veins that made up his system. He obliged, and in turn traded away a part of himself he knew would be said farewell to.

What remained of his humanity, laid to rest within his agreement to Nicole. No plan of return from that. It was in every participant's best interest, no ifs of buts about it, right? The sound of raindrops gently tapping the windows revived a moment of innocent within the 42-year old man, as is shown by letting his head fall back against the bricked construction that was positioned behind him. The material felt rough as the back of his head came into contact, but his short-cut hair absorbed most of its roughness, which was a small comfort. A pair of cerulean eyes trailed far above him, as they followed the power lines that were hammered into the cement paths between the rhythm of combined bricks. The shadows that embraced his athletic build, increased in mass, and decreased in color - seemingly effortlessly absorbing any and every one of the even the smallest trails of light. Nothing new. Chicago was his home, and despite the remnants of one's past stretched out over its vast surface, Aiden refused to gaze down into the abyss that translates into an inaccurate representation of Vigilante's past.

A painted future by his very own two hands, trembling or not, eyesight impaired by the presence of emotion or not, this is the result of his past. Yet the question remains, how long will Vigilante's present hold onto that belief? Emotional switches are easily turned off, though the power supply can and will hold onto stored sparks of what was. Even if the connection is cut, two remnants remain within each others vicinity, and neither forgets..

It's only a matter of time.. Or is it?

Description
The surrounding sounds were slowly being reduced to passing cars, nightwalkers springing to life and the occasional wide-spread threats broadcast by DedSec script kiddies. Stray trash and forgotten flyers were lifted up by the breeze, soft to the touch, yet strong enough to carry them quite a distance. Chicago never slept, and neither times of day were able to present one with the certainty of moving undetected. It had been shaped into a skill, if anything, the ability to find a moment of peace within the ever wielding chaos. And it took an even greater amount of skill to elongate its duration. Rooftops could be considered mostly safe, ever since the CTOS towers were all re-routed to locked servers on a single man's phone. It should've provided said man with the greatest of joys to have each and every surveillance area under his thumb, yet victory could not compare to the overthrowing feeling of emptiness settling within his core. He felt the urge to compare himself to a handful of high-rank hackers hiding out in the depths of growing lines of software expansion, struggling with an undying God-complex.

The mere thought of said analogy, brought him back to a fixer job he was thrown into, not too long ago. Underline the definition of low-rank script kiddie with a bright yellow marker, was in poor taste when considering the array of skills of one certain blackhatter - Defalt. Aiden Pearce's brow furrowed upon the memory of first coming into contact with said hacker. After the hell he had gone through to acquire the data, Damien so highly sought after, and the even greater hell to trace and play Raymond Kenney - he made it out to be mere child's play to get his greedy little paws on that precious data. Aiden should've heeded Ray's words, known not to take his warnings lightly. And to think that all it took was a simple visit to the Ambrose Theather's ConneXion event. It looked so obvious in hindsight, and the blackout at said location, should've been a dead give away, yet Aiden continuously fell for his little games. A man with such vast power at his fingertips, is unlikely to fall for a simple CTOS explosive hacks. Aiden never got the calm feeling of serenity from pressing his metal baton against the man's neck, and to let said baton dance all over the hacker's brittle bones. And for what? To walk away from his lifeless body, like his existence served no greater purpose than to be a mere distraction. It was too simple..

The waves below him, swayed gently along the length of the waterbed, lifting up the tails of Aiden's leather trench coat. Silence had returned to the streets below, and now he had found shelter in the shadows that colored the corners of the rooftop's interior structures. Silence, to be broken by disgruntled voices making nearby eardrums aware of the brewing storm, that was slowly building in the grey-colored sky above. As slow as the alternation of shades within the clouds were visible, the accompanying downfall of raindrops sped up the process. Life below simultaneously sped up its pace, speeding through the open streets and down abandoned alleyways, just to find some kind of shelter from mother nature's episode. Aiden didn't share their state of mind - he never had. The rough embrace of the unpredictable elements failed to weigh down on him. Instead, they enforced whichever emotion lay dormant at that time. Slowly and without caution, the lines of water trailed down the visor of his black cap, left to follow the path towards and down the curvature of his cheekbones, nose-bridge and jawline. It was that sensation, that made the 42-year old man close his heavy eyelids, and suck in the polluted air that moved all around his shrouded frame. Defalt was but a mere pawn within the greater picture, in the end, his aim was locked solely on Kenney. Aiden served as nothing but a middleman, tossed into the mix by mere coincidence. Or was there more to the algorithm of life's events? A pawn, that stood in the clear and direct path toward securing his sister's safety. Well, what one could consider direct.. Damien was sure to find ways to place his personal pawns carefully and with intent. Nothing was left up to mere coincidence with this radical soul .. Aiden shifted the corners of his mouth slightly as memories of his family rushed back to him, in brief intervals. Almost synchronized with the growling sky that draped him, the memories lost their transparency, coloring themselves with more vivid colors, the closer the man allowed them to his core being.

Nicole's reactions were mild, in hindsight. Distraught and unknowing how to specifically handle the flow of emotion after the revelation, but mild nonetheless. It had been Brenk's last pawn .. the specific pawn he had clutched onto, clenched within his palm throughout the entire ordeal, placed between two blood relatives before his inevitable demise.. Aiden slowly opened his eyes, allowing cerulean irises to wander across the length of the roof's concrete edge. What once was held so dearly to his heart, now begged for his release. Hell scratched no surface compared to the numbness that devoured his soul, yet he harbored an inability to place it within secure borders due to its host. He obliged to his little sister, granted her final wish to be guided into anonymity, for the sake of her young child.. And though it ate away at him, Aiden would be damned to hold her responsible for the guilt that traced the countless of pathways worth of veins that made up his system. He obliged, and in turn traded away a part of himself he knew would be said farewell to.

What remained of his humanity, laid to rest within his agreement to Nicole. No plan of return from that. It was in every participant's best interest, no ifs of buts about it, right? The sound of raindrops gently tapping the windows revived a moment of innocent within the 42-year old man, as is shown by letting his head fall back against the bricked construction that was positioned behind him. The material felt rough as the back of his head came into contact, but his short-cut hair absorbed most of its roughness, which was a small comfort. A pair of cerulean eyes trailed far above him, as they followed the power lines that were hammered into the cement paths between the rhythm of combined bricks. The shadows that embraced his athletic build, increased in mass, and decreased in color - seemingly effortlessly absorbing any and every one of the even the smallest trails of light. Nothing new. Chicago was his home, and despite the remnants of one's past stretched out over its vast surface, Aiden refused to gaze down into the abyss that translates into an inaccurate representation of Vigilante's past.

A painted future by his very own two hands, trembling or not, eyesight impaired by the presence of emotion or not, this is the result of his past. Yet the question remains, how long will Vigilante's present hold onto that belief? Emotional switches are easily turned off, though the power supply can and will hold onto stored sparks of what was. Even if the connection is cut, two remnants remain within each others vicinity, and neither forgets..

It's only a matter of time.. Or is it?