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Perched in his spot up on the roof of a nearby building. Ezekiel streched, 'How long would this go on for? I'm starting to get impatient here.'. The UN Chancellor along with many other important people were in the building across from him, awarding themselves for furthering the lives of those who have been granted as 'higher up' than the rest of the planet. a** holes.

His sniper was set up looking down at the Garden building. His car was sitting not but a floor below in the parking garage. It had been difficult to get up here onto the roof, but he was here and he was waiting on his shot.

He got back down into position and scanned the windows again looking for his target, he was here to prove a point. A point, and to gain some attention.

While Jason Rockefeller gave his speech, David felt hatred envelope himself. Jason was far from a philanthropist. Rather, he was a monopolist hellbent on molding the world in the vision set forth by his forefathers.

The Rockefeller family was a well noted family of big businessmen and bankers said to be worth over trillions of dollars if you were to calculate the value of the whole family. However, the predicament that David faced was what really what built this hatred.


[Flashback]

David was at a party when the elections were running. It wasn't a party in terms of music, rather it was a gathering of the rich and wealthy. Yet still, he felt out of place; he just wanted to be home at the moment watching the election results with his family. Why? He was nominated by the people to run as the second Chancellor of the United Nations...and he had a chance of winning.

The elections had only been running for 12 hours, starting in the morning from the eastern standard time zone slowly heading west until it made a full circle around the Earth and every citizen who cast a vote had it counted.

While the elections had 12 more hours to go before the winner could rise, David received a call on his cell phone. It was an unknown number.

"Hello?" asked David, "May I know who's speaking?"

A computer generated voice began to ensue telling David to meet a group of people in penthouse of the hotel which he was in. He took an elevator to the top floor to meet with the individuals. As he knocked on the door, it was promptly opened by an Maidroid (a Maid/Android) leaving David staring at a table at the center of the room with a few men and women in suits. From the side of the table opposite of David stood up a Caucasian man in his thirties with blond hair, a slender face, and green eyes. He wore an expensive black suit with blue pinstripes and boasted a white shirt with a red tie.

"You have officially won the election David," laughed the man, "come and have a seat."

David was flabbergasted at the thought. Him? Win the election when there was still 12 more hours to go? He knew something was up.

"What is going on?" asked David.

"Hmm," the blond man sneered, "we're your 'advisers'"

David began to head back out of the room but he was stopped by a bulky android who stood in the way of the door. It had the letters 'M-45' tattooed over the right side of his face starting from his forehead down to his cheek over his fake skin.

"I'm sorry sir," said the 'M-45', "You're meeting has not been adjourned yet. Please have a seat, do you want Vine? Beer?"

"How polite," muttered David as he glared at the bot from the corner of his eye. He then had a seat opposite of the blond man on the round table. The man began to speak.

"We are what you may call the 'deciders'," said the man, "and we decided that you have won the election."

"Lies," replied David.

"Don't believe us?" said a bearded chubby man with a balding head to David's right. The man opened up his cellphone and began to text a message somewhere. Once the message was sent, the room stayed in silence for 10 minutes, after which the chubby man's phone began to ring.

"Hello? Ah! Perfect!" the man put away his phone, left with a simple smile on his face. He then turned on the video screen in the room which took up the wall space to David's left.

"Election update!" said a man sitting at a news desk on the screen, "after we realized that the remaining 12 hours worth of votes had already been cast yesterday, we began to count them up! It turns out that the winner of this election is David Baynes! Congratulations sir, I hope you lead us well!"

The newly appointed Chancellor was speechless. Had the votes really been cast the day before? Before he could ask it was already answered.

"No, there were no voting booths open yesterday," laughed the enigmatic blond man, "We thought you should win, therefore you did. We think therefore you are. We think, therefore this whole world is."

David felt his guts twist and turn. A feeling of betrayal enveloped him as if all he had lived and hoped for was a lie.

"You work for us now," said the blond man as he stood up, leaned over the table and held his hand before David, "nice to meet you, I am Jason D. Rockefeller."

David grasped the hand and shook it. He realized he hadn't won the election. He was just selected.

He felt as if he had faced his biggest loss yet.

[/flashback]

David walked off the stage after Jason gave his long lasting speech which consumed well over 10 minutes. It was followed by a great applause and cheer; as if he was some sort of savior.

Nash started to clap as he screamed "THANK GOD THIS CRAP IS OVER!" bringing harsh looks from everyone in ear shot which consisted of about 5 people in the back row. "hey don't look at me if u guys where important u wouldn't be in the back row, or would u?" Nash said to them as he stuck the half finished cigarette in his teeth and started to walk off.

"where are u going?" Jim said with his normal holy-er than thou attitude.
" what do u think i am going to go get some fresh air." Nash said as he lit his cigarette and took a drag. the cherry glowing bright orange illuminating his face in the dark back area of the auditorium.

Nash stepped into the refreshing evening air. the cool breeze blew his hair around in the night. he leaned against a large stone column in the front of the building. he stood in the shadows since he didn't want to make it too easy for middle management to see him shirking his duties. Nash had been dressed to complete regulation during the ceremonies, which mainly made his skin crawl. he quickly returned his clothing to his normal edge of regulation style. as he rolled up his sleeves he noticed something out the corner of his eye on a building across the street. a sudden glint that quickly disappeared. something didn't seem right about it but it wasn't enough for Nash to go climbing up parking garages just to investigate a hunch.
Nash laughed to himself; even if he did go running to save the day no one would believe his report. or much less that he climbed a building to see if a sniper could be there.

Some of the more dishonorable characters from the Anarchist side (or so they claimed) began showing up at the Demons tear. They were looking for a place to drink and so set up a couple of tables and brought drinks to sell to other drunks, a bit of alcohalic black market in addition to Clints own gun sales. He never really sparked conversation with these characters, as they were pretty insignificant, but both he and Eevee were focused very intently on the telescreen. It depicted a man giving a speech about some global award. He didn't know why, but something told him this was important. Eevee was of course watching from inside the screen, with nothing else to do a lot of the time but pay attention to the news and whatever sports event the drunks were watching, as the television was her current residence. Clint thought to himself for a moment. "Maybe I can make a profit off of these guys. All I'd have to do is open up a bar in here and there's plenty of empty space." He rechecked his wares behind the counter to make sure that they were hidden. He had a few ideas swimming around n his head for new designs, but was stuck waiting for suppliers.

Items for Sale:
Ranged Weapons:
Revolver:
Atk: +50 (accuracy becomes 50%, only accepts custom ammo)
Ammo: /6
Description: Uses a slightly more durable build to compensate for stronger powder. Sacrafises accuracy for power and range. Also a really crappy stealth weapon as it makes a very loud bang and produces a lot of smoke.
Cost: 2000 unos

Close Range Weapons:
Modified Shotgun:
Atk: +50
Ammo: Not needed
Description: Takes any ammo from dirt to glass shards to shrapnel. The pitiful range classifies it as a melee weapon.
Cost: 2000 unos

Ammo:
Custom ammo:
Amount: 6 shots
Cost: 200 unos

Fake ID chip:
Cost: free

(I'm waiting for everyone else to come in and RP. But they didn't >.<'. I mean I can't be the only one at the awards ceremony!!)

Provide proof of insurgent loyalty at the demons tear (my shop) and I give fakes out for free...

((Wow, its been a month and we didn't go anywhere. And here I was feeling guilty for leaving... lol

I've found myself a place to sit until something happens. But until something DOES happen I'm stuck sitting on the roof since I'm not leaving until I get my shot.))