Here's a refresher to the Watch Dog's character,
Aiden Pearce:
Aiden is a Caucasian male with green eyes, brown mid-length hair, and light facial hair. While having his mugshot taken, it is shown that he is 6' 2" (1.88 m) and appears to be of mesomorphic build. In the trailers Aiden wears a grey, long-sleeve, zip-neck sweater, usually un-tucked, though his clothes can be changed to several other jackets of similar style. On top of the sweater, Aiden wears a modern, brown, knee-length trench coat. Aiden wears dark grey trousers and brown boots. He also has a deep, gravelly voice.
Aiden also keeps a neckwarmer scarf tucked into the neck of his sweater, which he may pull up so that it covers his face up to the bridge of his nose. Aiden also wears a dark brown cap with a logo that can be debated to be either a stylized 'Nexus' logo or a fox.
In this case, he is an grey earth pony—no facial or voice change— with the Alone Outfit on.
My name is Aiden Pearce, and that is probably all you are going to know about me personally without a watchful glance.
I don't need to follow the rules, if I am the one who enforce them. The guards have to follow their code of conduct to take criminals down, relying on the CCToS and their warrants to enforce the laws.
I don't need the warrants, I can solve my problem with the CCToS and a retractable, mechanical button lock baton, and a couple of bullets that may or may not have hollow insides. A skilled strikes to the chest and leg would solve a few things, revenge would solve everything. You can't have peace in the cities without some pains. but there are two kinds of pain: The sort of pain that makes you strong, or useless pain.
The sort of pain that’s only suffering.
I have no patience for useless things anymore.
However, I don't look back anymore—I don't regret. I look forward. Everything is connected, and I'll use that to expose, to protect, and if necessary; to punish.
"Oh my Celestia!" A trilled shriek rang out, "He has a gun!"
I was never the one to be seen in the daylight, one who would stick out of the crowed when unnecessary. It's something I would only do if it was absolutely needed to do, and if I needed to so, I'd be willing to have my baton smashed into their in their thuggish maw-- however; I almost never had to, I could just pop a few bullets from my Mag 7 right into their leg. Boom, criminal neutralized, slide right back into the crowd. Let the pert walk with a crutch for a couple of months in their year ten sentence for attempted murder. So why can't I just switch my pistols right now and just shoot this fucker right now?
I'll two reasons, two very easy reasons why: I'm chasing this guy through a populated street, if I shoot a bullet-- a stray would hit someone and damage my reputation as The Vigilante. I would also have another demon to fight, knowing I just killed a innocent pony; accident or purpose. I can't live with another innocent death caused by me, I'll go bat-shit crazy. Even if I switched to a semi-auto weapon, I still need a good sight and I have every chance to miss a bullet and actually hitting something other than my big red pony's leg. I need to get this guy with a strike to the head, back, or knee.
So that means no bullets.
Second; I want this guy alive and unharmed— okay, maybe a few bruises to wear but I need him to talk and to think clearly. This guy doesn't want jail, he has a family to take care of. Assault on a colt doesn't seem tasty on a farmer's criminal record, let's see how I can rearrange that to attempted murder? Nothing says a successful interview like a good dose of stone cold blackmail, it would definitely change the tune of our little conversation. I need something like that, and right now I need this giant colt in a secluded place so that I may take him down without CCToS tracking me with a scan.
I've done my workout, no more running.
I was in a town called Ponyville, an expanding town that just dipped it's hardworking hooves into the digital Era that just couldn't wait to making to make history. It wasn't early in the morning, sometime before mid-day. Unusual for The Vigilante to be in action, especially when he likes to be discreet when he does attack. Ponies where either trying to make their way to work, setting up shop, or trying to lobby the marketplace so they can get the fresh goods like they did before the CCToS launch-up, or the Blackout. Go to the market place to buy fruits from the vendors, or at least what Carrot Top tells me what she and her mother did, socialize with the locals, challenge the unbeatable Rainbow Dash, or try to find some work around the farm.
It's none of my concern really, what they did before the Blackout.
The crowd was plenty, renewed ponies from ashes of misery surrounding me. That would be a problem, if I wouldn't know how to swerve around the crowd. The big red pony was barreling ponies out of his way in a fearsome haste, knocking them left right and possibly trampling a yellow pony with caramel curls which could potentially, and critically damaging the poor stallion. This farmer turned from a runner, to a menace to society and I won't allow him to harm anypony else. I have to catch him now.
So let's catch him, now shall we?
I swerved around a pony, a verbal insult being snarled my way until they saw the Colt 1911 in my grasp. A sort of ring clasps around my hoof, which would set my gun forward using a pulley system that would also cock it, I don't need a bullet going into my leg as I'm chasing anyone, and be ready for discharging and dropping a suspect. As I don't have the need to pop this guy in the back, I have it in case worst comes forth and I have to fight my way out of the sticky situation. That would be unpleasant, having to dig for a bullet in my shoulder again.
I vaulted over a wooden wagon, some people can't let go of the past and that is their problem. It's still a rural town, and just touching the first ever mentioning of security cameras. They had phones, in fact, they had smartphones for a while. They just never had the things that Chicacolt had to live with for the longest, like go trains and pavement streets. Cars, is a bigger thing that they are using since last year. Now that would be great, makes escaping from the guards easier.
That would mean I could set up better road blockages so my guy can't just flee, they would have to climb or waste stamina jumping over the car .
"Leave me alone!" The oversize farmer shouted, looked behind him momentarily and our green eyes met and I had a good look on his face. He had a brighter shade of emerald eyes, red fur, a pair of goggles that I'd assume he is hiding his snout from the CCToS facial recognition, if he was— he would be in jail within five minutes of a 911 call. The name on my phone says Smith, Barrel 'Big' Macintosh. The occupation is a farmer and he is ~26, there was no definition om his income or definite age as he was never enrolled into a primary school.
I was closing in on him, but Macintosh decided to barrel himself over a rail and scurry himself across the street-- avoiding the cars in his way. The farmer looked behind him and still gave a breath of anxiety when he saw me still sprinting towards him. Barrel Macintosh dove into an alley where he was greeted by big fence in front of him, a brick wall to his left, and a construction wall, framing the building next to the alley. Macintosh peered at me, then took a hard right into the wiring and smashed it with his hard head.
The framing started to crumble due to lack of support, dust filled my vision what I quickly wiped away. I looked at the rubble to find a bruised Macintosh trying to gain his bearings. The red pony stumbled and held his head, his eyes in a dizzy spiral, ears flat against his head, the goggles cracked and torn. The farmer was strong, I'd give him that.
"Macintosh, stop!" I was quite honestly shocked, not that he could have pulled that stunt off, but the fact that he could survive that. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want answers!"
He was in the military sort of schooling, as my data reads, so he isn't completely stupid. In fact, he could have a potentially good job. So why is he caught up in this underground version of politics? How can a farmer, with the credentials for a petty officer, be involved with the fixers? More questions that I need answers from him.
Big Macintosh seemed to be stumbling less, and I am here just standing with my masked jaw hanging low. Macintosh has a way to escape, there's a 'U' bend in that alley- across the fence is freedom and you can go around the fence. It's usually guarded by spikes, I'm told they hurt if you step on them. They also pop tires. In this case, Macintosh would be willing to gnaw his leg off it it means getting away from The Vigilante.
I perked my ears towards the towering fence and listened to the wiring, buzzing sounds emitted from the metal. I slipped my hoof into my trench-coat pocket and whited my phone out. I opened my custom 'application' and my phone screen glowed white before I had connection to the entire zone of this area. I looked down
at my device and it was in camera. I loomed in the screen and noticed the appearing white fizzy wires that are now visible through my phone.
Now I could follow this on foot, but I would lose Macintosh. I noticed a leaky steam pipe neck to him, Macintosh was just starting to get up. I tapped at my screen and the pipe busted, sending the big farmer sprawling onto the ground. The farmer was still disorientated from the framing, so he was just laying there-- trying to see if the world would stop.
∞
If Aiden could travel back to the future twice, he could by now.
The afternoon sun was growing stuffy, people out of lunch breaks make going through traffic almost impossible. The cemetery was just around the corner, and various cars are driving at breakneck speed to get there. One group of cars verses on singular motorcycle, a race against each other as they used just their knowledge on driving, while Aiden focused on not crashing so he could get there at top speed- using hacks to disrupt the traffic lights so he could slip by the car crashes.
∞
I finally bounced to the last camera, unlocking an electrical box and overloading it. The fence sparked with power, then shut of all together. I looked back to see Macintosh getting up to his hooves, the pain in his head and body probably subsiding. I can not let him out of my sights again. I took observation of a dumpster, and I almost smiled through my mask. I hopped on my hind legs, which isn't hard to do for me, and took a running start for the disengaged fence. I then leaped and kicked off of the dumpster and soared as high as I could.
I placed my left hoof on the top of the fence and swung my body over the fence. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my baton, for which I already extended by holding the button and flinging it outwards, and I slammed my body onto a fleeing Macintosh. I raised my baton and smacked the top of his head brutishly and whipped the baton across his back and shoulders in a fast and furious flurry of assault. The bigger, redder pony squeaked in pain and he crumbled into a ball- shaking in pain like an abused filly.
Crybaby.
I stood up onto my hind legs and I slammed my baton onto his ribs, hearing a painful cracking sound. Big Macintosh moaned in utter pain, now breathing heavily. I walked around him, still preferring to stand on my hind legs; it makes me seem more intimidating. I I pushed my baton back together, keeping my narrowed eyes on him. We could have done this the easy way, like how I worked with Tobias / Now I have to do this the hard way.
I pulled him by the hair towards the alley wall, out of sight, and propped him against it. I pulled the goggles off of his scratched up face and placed the tip end of my baton on his throat, which could seriously hurt him. He doesn't want that, because he wants to go back to his family. I'll let him live, but he'll have to explain for his action before hand.
"What do you know about Bad Water?" I asked, dangerously low.
"Ah... Ah don't know nothing about no Bad Water... no ser!" Big Macintosh answered, pressing himself deeply into the wall.
"Let me ask again then," I slapped my Baton against his face, and large welt forming underneath his eye. "What the hell are you doing with Fixers?"
"Ah... ah need money for mah family. That new CCToS deman's that we farmers pay higher taxes than those down at them subburbs are payin'! We ain't got no money for next week!" Big Macintosh held the welt on his cheek.
"Listen, once Bad Water is done with you- he will kill you. Acid." I said, "What happens when blue litmus paper touches acid?"
"Ah think it turns blue?"
"There is a reason why he is called Bad Water, he makes you drink hydrofloric acid."
Author's Note
While I am working on my House M.D story, here's something for you to sink your teeth in.
It seems fast, but trust me. It's for the best.
Also, picture Big Mac cowering to The Vigilante as he gives him the whole nine yards. Black Mail, torture, threats, and even a bribe!
