Buechoria
07-10-2004, 02:55
The day was coming to a close. The clean streets of Buechoria were free of the masses of people that streamed in and out of the glass and stone buildings that seemed to touch the sky. Traffic had eased up and people were returning to their homes on the central autobahn, the fastest way to get across the country in a car.
Vogelsang (The capitol) soon became quiet. Like the other cities in Buechoria, the lights on the streets were blinking on and people were sleeping in their beds. All except for a group of youths, of about fifteen who were casually strolling the streets as if it was a Sunday afternoon.
“Hold it!” yelled a nearby police officer. The teenagers looked over at him and sighed. While there was no curfew in Buechoria, people under the age of eighteen were stopped occasionally if they were acting suspiciously.
“What’re you kids doing up at this hour?” the officer asked, pointing towards a clock on a nearby bank. It was nine after 21 o’ clock. “We’re... We’re walkin’! What’s it look like, asshat?” one of the teenagers sneered at the officer. “You shouldn’t be out now; it’s a school night anyway. Back in my day...” The officer was cut off “Fuck your day, this is ours. Outta the way.” barked another one. The cop was taken aback and took out his radio. Before he could pick it up, some of the kids had taken him and pushed him against a building.
The Molotov cocktail soared through the air, leaving a trail of blue flames behind it. It hit a nearby car and it exploded with the force of a bundle of dynamite. Hundreds of screaming anarchists, most teenagers, had plowed through the streets of Vogelsang, throwing anything handy. The riot police had been deployed by 22 AM, and soon, large APCs stopped in front of the rioting crowd. The policemen jumped out and unholstered their LS-33 Riot Control Stick. It was a metal tube, equipped with a tazer in the front. While the shock would not injure someone, it would be incentive to move out of the way.
A news helicopter hovered over the standoff of justice versus hundreds of delinquents. Suddenly, gun fire erupted. They were armed. Bullets flew towards the chopper, slicing through the thin metal covering it.
The pilot of the helicopter screamed into the headgear as the engine fire spread throughout the rest of the vehicle, which was careening towards the ground. Riot control retreated as an armed mob began shooting at the officer. Some were hurt, and they were hurridly carried back to the APCs that made a hasty retreat.
The first chapter of an anarchist rebellion had begun, and a horrible future awaited the citizens of Buechoria if it could not be stopped...
Vogelsang (The capitol) soon became quiet. Like the other cities in Buechoria, the lights on the streets were blinking on and people were sleeping in their beds. All except for a group of youths, of about fifteen who were casually strolling the streets as if it was a Sunday afternoon.
“Hold it!” yelled a nearby police officer. The teenagers looked over at him and sighed. While there was no curfew in Buechoria, people under the age of eighteen were stopped occasionally if they were acting suspiciously.
“What’re you kids doing up at this hour?” the officer asked, pointing towards a clock on a nearby bank. It was nine after 21 o’ clock. “We’re... We’re walkin’! What’s it look like, asshat?” one of the teenagers sneered at the officer. “You shouldn’t be out now; it’s a school night anyway. Back in my day...” The officer was cut off “Fuck your day, this is ours. Outta the way.” barked another one. The cop was taken aback and took out his radio. Before he could pick it up, some of the kids had taken him and pushed him against a building.
The Molotov cocktail soared through the air, leaving a trail of blue flames behind it. It hit a nearby car and it exploded with the force of a bundle of dynamite. Hundreds of screaming anarchists, most teenagers, had plowed through the streets of Vogelsang, throwing anything handy. The riot police had been deployed by 22 AM, and soon, large APCs stopped in front of the rioting crowd. The policemen jumped out and unholstered their LS-33 Riot Control Stick. It was a metal tube, equipped with a tazer in the front. While the shock would not injure someone, it would be incentive to move out of the way.
A news helicopter hovered over the standoff of justice versus hundreds of delinquents. Suddenly, gun fire erupted. They were armed. Bullets flew towards the chopper, slicing through the thin metal covering it.
The pilot of the helicopter screamed into the headgear as the engine fire spread throughout the rest of the vehicle, which was careening towards the ground. Riot control retreated as an armed mob began shooting at the officer. Some were hurt, and they were hurridly carried back to the APCs that made a hasty retreat.
The first chapter of an anarchist rebellion had begun, and a horrible future awaited the citizens of Buechoria if it could not be stopped...