An introduction first.

Markus Lyle was currently typing away furiously at his keyboard. The young man was having a frustrating time at the moment, but not as frustrating as the day he was visiting upon a certain asshole, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he worked.

Markus was a man in his early twenties, with short, spiky blue hair, intense red eyes behind a set of glasses, fair skin, and while he wouldn't be winning any body builder competitions, he kept his body quite fit. He was pretty well known as a kind person who would give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it, and would help just about anyone who asked, within reason. However, he was also not a person one should ever piss off. He had a vindictive streak, and all of his old friends had an old saying: the worst misfortune Markus's enemies have... Is that they're Markus's enemies.

He briefly wondered what his roommate/tenant, Mira Leth, was up to, having not seen her for a couple of hours, before shrugging to himself, and getting back to work. He owned his house outright, having inherited it from his late grandparents on his mother's side. He had been quite close to them, dropping by regularly to help them as their health declined, which is why they left him the house. He rented out a room to Mira to make extra money, and sent it to his parents, in hopes of helping them actually retire at a decent age. He made good money doing freelance computer work, as he was very good with technology, essentially being a nerd without the social awkwardness, but every bit helped.

Markus was currently exchanging furious emails with a moderately sized business owner, who was currently trying to stiff him for payment of the website he had spent a week making for the guy. Said business owner had tried to lock Markus out of the website when he was done, but Markus had left a deliberate backdoor into the system, and deleted it from the business's servers, though of course, he kept his own copies. Now the business owner was demanding it back, but Markus was demanding payment, with an additional fee he called an asshole tax, up front before he did so, and was getting profanity-laden emails in response. "Fuck around and find out, asshole. You don't want to mess with someone who knows their way around technology," Markus said aloud, smirking at his screen. Frankly, the bastard was lucky Markus just deleted the website, instead of changing it to something that would be far worse for his business.

He had no idea what was about to transpire in his own back yard.

(This is another collaboration between myself and Admira, based on an RP we're doing.)