the first
back 2 bulletpoint writing
<character description>
(this is a description yoinked from another bulletpoint fic that I Haven't Finished Yet but it fits my purposes for Telling You What You Need To Know)
Cal's wearing a punk vest on top of a pink long-sleeve, with the usual jeans. a binder peeks out from the collar
he's also got some boots
his fur is a very dark brown, black until you look at it closely, with a big poofy tail striped with white
a black bag patterned with lightning-like filaments is slewed over his back, shaped like a weird harp or something
some examples of his patches: the classic ACAB, anarchism symbol, etc. a variant of trans flag that has a lightning-bolt aspect (representing, in a phrase, "aggressive transness"), some band patches, etc
</character description>
Cal looked up at the statue
it was of some cunt who fought for the confederates
bastards had kept the statue for however long
he'd asked earlier about how to quote 'fuck up some concrete'
Taps, after a while of hemming and hawing, had given him a big file of exactly how concrete corrodes
of course
he didn't understand it
he wasn't much of a chemist
but Melanie helped a little and he thinks he's got it figured out.
Cal looks around for any cameras
he always made sure the popo never saw magic
of course his punkvest already marked him for cop meddling
but on a workday in work hours, there weren't too many people in the park
only Fate's meddling could sic the heat on him now
ah, there was a ding
an intersection had a camera that not only caught Every Car that would Ever run its redlight
it also would catch him if he didn't take care of it
he took a something out of his bag
it was a zither dyed so it had a smooth gradient from rose to its normal wooden beige color
on the front was "COMB STINGER" in a graffiti block-letter
a paper clipboarded onto the instrument took the place of frets
the distances between each 'fret' looked squished, and they were sloped to follow the ends
two of the strings had a slightly different tint and sound to them than the others
each was capped with a small implement not unlike a skeletal metal xylophone
Cal had flipped them up and aimed them at the camera
he engaged the pair of strings with a half-dollar coin
as he started playing he watched the camera, seemingly trying to figure something out
he did have a basic intuition for this but it still took a bit
eventually he saw some smoke begin to come off of the plastic shell of the camera
satisfied, he pushed the coin an infinitesimal amount forward, changing each tone by a couple of cents
he stopped playing after about 10 seconds
the camera was definitely fucked up. nonmagic magic smoke seeped from where the wire met it
eventually someone would figure out it was tampered with and investigate, but nobody would think of a Directed Energy Wzither. there was a good chance it'd be thought of as a freak electrical cockup
Cal switched focus to the statue
he put away his zither, flipping the antennae to be flush with the body
then pulled out various bottles of decidedly not water, some of them in decidedly not water bottles
he also dredged up a weird little tool
it looked like someone mated a cranked miniradio(?) with a reciprocating bugzapper(??) and made it out of printer plastic, which wasn't too far off from the truth
if you extended the concept of power words to power tools this one would be power tool chemistry
so. Cal looked upon the stuffs he'd strewn out and mused on what to do
Taps said that concrete had many ways of corrosion based on what was in it
but a good bet was to use carbonated water and sulfuric acid
so Cal did that, spilling the water and notwater onto the statue
he pointed the chemtool at the statue
started winding it (which was quite a job)
and at first, nothing happened.
but then it bubbled
and fizzed
and then he heard a shout from a bit away
whizzed around
"shit."
it was what he hoped most not to see
Da Popo.
"Stand still! You're coming with me, punky-boy!"
well
it was good to be unclocked
but he couldn't tell if it was because the cop was just an ignorant fuck
or because he thought only cis men could be punk
dumbass.
either way, Cal spun upwards from his sitting position, grabbed the tool, and immediately booked it, leaving the cop fumbling for his taser or gun
who could tell which
these days it was a coinflip whether a cop would be homocidal or not
time to put his parkour skill to use
he lept the fence, which was easy enough, and immediately was looking for the next thing to put between him and the bastard
he elected to run by a wall for a bit, boosting himself with a hand, if nothing else to gain from the jay
Cal thought a little about how he'd get out of this, after putting the tool in his zither bag
the cop definitely saw his tail, there was no getting around that
he had a facemask on so he was kinda fine on that matter
he'd never said anything so his voice wasn't known
but he definitely had to lose this fucker before he got back to the Twatcave (it was a working title)
far behind him
"You wont get away from me, asshole!"
he heard the click of a taser being fired,
felt the thud of it hitting his back
felt nothing as his vest took most of the impalement,
and heard the cop yell
"You, you, you motherfucker!"
he kept running, taking out his pocketknife
ideally he'd cut the wires in one fell swoop
he was probably safe since it was already stuck in his vest
but he muttered an appeal to Fate anyways
one, two, zing!,
and he was fine
the cop wasn't. ever since he took the taser running he's heard a constant stream of swears
he looked around for a way out. no dice
he had to vanish, and quick.
ugh
he cursed under his breath
he didn't like using his own magic
it gives him half a migraine
but he had nothing else.
he dips into an alleyway
checks for cameras
readies himself
and the hand he's used to boost off the wall
he digs into the mortar between the bricks
tears it open
and in goes his hand, his self, and his bag
through the mortar, into the Mortar
after him, he closes it right back up
and in an instant,
he didn't exist in the material world anymore.