Repose

[Locked to Jack P]
[After this.]

So, you opted for a blog. How does it feel to join the modern age?

[There's a series of conversations that happen in places around the Capital, with people who have not a lot to do other than see what's going on. It's made clear that there's somebody who wants to know all of the details around the weird shit that happens in the Capital, from vigilantes to changes in the way the city is run and shaped by organized crime.

It culminates in a new blog cropping up, that digs into the changing methodology of the woman in white and green boots, who they target and how. There's a summary of witnesses, the speculation of the city-dwellers who are most affected by the dirt that both vigilantes seem determined to help clear up. There's no name, and the comment section (which is open) ranges from the tin-foil hats to the people who summarise news on social media, who help it pick up some interest. The person behind it starts and finishes with the stated intention of staying on top of the changing face of the city, and provides a cryptokey address for tip-offs.]

[Posted to a Capital forum.]

You know, the harder you try to get to the bottom of something, blogger friend, the more it tends to dive under the surface. Especially when writing about it makes it harder for the rest of us to get shit done.

[While a certain forum post is exploding with "anonymous" activity, someone sees a very opportune time to go cause mischief. Following a couple of teeny-tiny explosions that rock one of the more morally-questionable offices in the business district, a red and black blur is seen zooming around on a flyboard air through the more downtrodden part of the city literally throwing thousands upon thousands of dollars in cash out onto the streets for any of the homeless to take.

Spraypainted in huge white and hot pink letters on one of the buildings that the bountied vigilante has often frequented the roof of: 'I MISS YOU GREEN BOOTS CALL ME XOXO AMY~']