EXERCISE Picture Challenge: Cyberpunk

Discussion in 'REFINING WRITING' started by Grumpy, Apr 19, 2012.

  1. NOTE: They say that a picture can tell a thousand words; this challenge aims to see how many words our members can tell from a picture. Each week an image relating to a certain genre shall be posted, and members are challenged to see what sort of plot, character or idea can be developed from it.

    You can post as much or as little as you want to; post the short story the image inspired, or post the quick idea for a plot that it gave you. Quantity is not what this is about; this challenge is all about trying to inspire you to get ideas for genres you may not previously have had any interest in.

    There is no time limit on these challenges; feel free to get involved whenever you like.

    CATEGORY: This week, the category is CYBERPUNK.
    And so without further interruptions...

    ...here is this week's image (open)
    [​IMG]


    Next week's category will be MECHS.
     
  2. PLOT:

    It is an era where terrorists are trying to take over technology. It is the job of the cyberpunks to find these criminals and punish them. First, they need to find their hideout. Second, they need to know who they are working for and if there are more like them. Last but not least, the cyberpunks need to find out how much this people know.

    X.x I know its not great but ehh...
     


  3. They're coming for me.

    I know it.

    Why?

    Do they even need a reason to?

    Probably because I was doing something heroic.

    Something stupid.

    My dark side is nagging at me from the back of my head - The corner which I had banished it to. Never really managed to kick him out. It kept telling me that I shouldn't have stepped in. Shouldn't have beat up that bunch of policemen (heard one of 'em died, cerebral haemorrhage or something. I don't know.) that were harassing that young lady that lives across the street but there isn't any use. Heck, it's been done already. What the fuck was the point in bitching? I walked over to the blinds and I separated a random two with my index and middle finger, peering outside. A squad hovercar was outside and also three enforcers, clad in their sleek, black and blue costumes and their identities hidden away in helmets, sauntering around with those batons out - They may not look like anything, but you wouldn't say that after it sends a current through your body that leaves you on the ground twitching.

    Wait. Three?

    Where are the other two?

    Probably covering the back. Damn. I hate them but they were good.

    Well, now you're asking; why five? Isn't five a little too much of an overkill for a man who beat up a couple of officers? I used to work for them. They know who I am. The bloke that lives in that dingy apartment that does the dirty work when the 'law', if that's what you call it, can't openly operate without exposing their true face. They pay me, and I do it. Be it intimidation, assassinations .. I was their thug. For a time, anyway.

    I quit a few days ago, when they told me to 'persuade' this old dude into surrendering his store so that the enforcers could use it as a front for their surveillance office against the street gangs, who were once again rising in number and power.

    Oh well. Not that I'm going to let them take me away, just like that. They'll probably put some chip into the back of my head that makes me a mindless drone, forever driven by their commands until the day I die. Guess I'll have to do what I do best; fight.

    I looked out of the window again. The enforcers are heading up their stairs now. The last one is barking orders into the radio he retrieved from his belt. I think it's a he. You can't really tell. Those uniforms are pretty tight. Double Ds are a no no.

    I ran through the plan I had made up in my head, when I was tipped off that their coming over; Old Jim, would miss him when I leave this city. He's always been a pretty reliable bloke. I am to wait until they come right up to my door, do the formality of knocking before I kcik it open in their faces. Hopefully I get one, or two down and I quickly deal with the other before I go out the front. Don't have to deal with the two at the back, that way. I'll jack their car - I've got a device that can override their controls and make the thing mine. Always wanted one of them. Heard they got an illegal engine under the hood that can make it go ultra fast. Like ultra super duper fast.

    Right. There's the knock.

    Time for action. I walked to the door and I reared my foot back, having loosened the screws in the hinges before to make the kicking easier and I threw it into the door. There was a loud thump and the impact went up my leg, before the door gave way and it slammed outwards. Damn. Only one went down. Apparently they aren't new to that tactic. One guy had to knock, the other two stood at the side.

    They were on me instantly - The two that were still standing anyway. Just a brief hick in my plan, nothing big like a monkey wrench.

    I caught the first dude's wrist as he struck at me with his baton - I could see the spark of electricity that danced at its deep. Holy fuck. That meant the batons were at their highest setting. Were they planning to kill me off? Fucking hell. Distracted, I barely dodged the weapon of the second as I stepped onto the door that had pinned one of them down. I used my own momentum as I moved to drag the one that I had gripped, before I moved onto a single-knee and I propelled him forward and down the stairs in a standard flip. He rolled down the stairs and around the corner. Ouch. Probably won't be getting up for a while.

    The one underneath the door is getting up, but lucky for me he's still slow. As he's stumbling around I grab him by a shoulders in a solid push, right in the path of the last one that is heading at me, swinging his baton in a wide arc. They fall like a bunch of bowling pins.

    No time to do anything else.

    I dashed down the stairs, well pass the unmoving body of the guy that got thrown down and out through the door. I didn't have time to pack. Neither did I want to pack. There wasn't really anything sentimental in that apartment. Not like I had any of those stuff left, anyway.

    I jumped into the hovercar they parked at the side of the street and I fished the portable drive that held the program to override the commands of the vehicle. It was a rather painful five seconds, as I heard thundering feet signalling the coming of the still standing enforcers until the car's engine thrummed, telling me that the override was successful.

    How about that?

    I stepped on the accelerator, turned on the siren and I shot off, the surroundings soon becoming a blur.