Sporemageddon

Death Cap - Twenty-Six - Crashing the Party Before They Crash the Party

The plan, or at least the objective was simple.

Ratesco’s Union had started moving smaller things to their new headquarters already, but the big move wasn’t going to happen for another two days. That was when things would be more or less official. That same day, a bunch of union big-wigs were going to pop up and have a big meetup at the new headquarters. It was, from what I understood, a sort of twice-yearly event that was pretty important.

The bullies, of course, wanted to crash it.

The way Gary told it, the last time there was a big move they’d ended up arresting two of the mid-level bosses on the way over on spurious charges and caused a disturbance. It was one of the reasons they’d put off the current move.

So, the union was willing to pay me to ensure that the bullies were too busy to even think of causing that kind of trouble.

The way he put it, they were hiring a bunch of non-union street folk to cause some trouble. Break windows, start a few brawls, and generally send a message to the cops that the union could cause lots of trouble if they actually wanted to flex.

They’d pay a shilling for every bully taken out of action, which Gary had very carefully reminded me meant ‘busy’ not ‘dead.’

Dead police were bad. It would break the tenuous non-aggression agreement the union and the city government had.

So, for distracting one officer I’d get the equivalent of twenty-four-ish mushroom skewers sold. That wasn’t too bad, but it didn’t beat a day’s work. If I wanted to earn more with this mess then I’d need to distract at least five, maybe six officers. More, because I was taking a day off to plot my operation.

The rules were simple:

• No killing
• No maiming in a permanent fashion
• No destruction on a grand scale

So I couldn’t just light a big factory or two on fire and call it a day. That was unfortunate, it would have been easy.

Still, I had other ways to cause chaos. Non-lethal but exceptionally chaotic methods.

I had, in my possession, two mushrooms that I thought could work wonderfully to cause some mischief.

[Bottle Pop] - Rare

A mushroom which fills with flame-proof spores, water, and methane, each within their own separate sacs within the fruiting body. On receiving a strong enough impact, the mushroom explodes, lighting itself on fire and spreading its hardened spores out around it to penetrate nearby materials. The spores are mildly poisonous. The fumes created by the explosion are mildly toxic.

And, of course.

[Purple Starball] - Uncommon

This magical mushroom unleashes clouds of glowing spores that, if inhaled, will cause a mammal to have vivid visual hallucinations.

Bombs and powerful hallucinogens. With some of my [Green Burn Lichen] acting as a fuse I could create natural explosives that would spread fire and confusion to anyone within reach.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an arsonist in possession of explosives must be in want of chaos,” I said as I knitted together a very thin net which could hold the three fungi together. It was a somewhat unwieldy package, but it would do.

By the time evening rolled around I had several bombs ready.

Sir Nibbles and I went out with one of them, a short walk to a corner of the city where there was a large sewer entrance. The pipe was wide enough that I could walk into it, and open to the air. It also stank to high-heavens, so even the more desperate of the homeless stayed away.

I set my package down, then left the area and hid behind some abandoned metal drums. It took a bit of finagling, but I managed to reach the package with my aura, then I pushed some mana into it.

The explosive started with a mean hiss, like a cat met in a dark alley. Then, a loud bang!

It was just a bit louder than a backfire, but I found that I’d probably been covering my ears for nothing.

With my mask on--and a bandana over Sir Nibble’s lower face--we exited our cover and checked on the damage.

It was actually quite pretty. The [Purple Starball] left a cloud of glowing spores that danced in the air like those sparkles in a firework show. The ground next to the initial explosion wasn’t quite scorched, but it was marked by the bang nonetheless.

I waited for things to settle, then picked some samples of the spores.

The [Purple Starball]’s poisonous spores were the first I checked.

[Purple Starball Spore]

This spore, once inhaled, will break apart in a mammal’s respiratory system and in doing so will release magical neurotoxins into the victim’s bloodstream. These will directly affect the eyes and the brain’s visual centres, causing the victim to have vivid and realistic visions based on recently-seen elements.

I’d dosed myself with this one a few times. The hallucinations weren’t too bad... they just made it feel like I was moving backwards through time, as if my vision was rewinding. The colours were all wrong, and the perspective tended to warp though. It made me terribly nauseous, and I only used it while sitting down and concentrating on staying still.

[Bottle Pop Spore]

A mildly poisonous spore that, on contact with the dermis, will slowly leak into a victim’s bloodstream. The poison causes intestinal distress and cramping, as well as sudden bowel evacuation.

I didn’t want to talk about what happened to me while testing this one on myself.

The bullies tended to wear bright blue britches. I giggled to myself, imagining them repainted a whole new colour from within.

I decided that the test was a success and headed home for an early night’s rest. I’d need as much sleep as I could get for the next day.

I left home at the crack of dawn. The Union was going to start the final part of the move at around ten, which gave me a whole three hours to get so many bullies confused and busy that they wouldn’t be able to even think of interfering.

Honestly, if I had it my way, I’d drop one of my new toys into the bully changing room while it was still full. I bet they only had one or two toilet stalls in there.

I wasn’t actually stupid enough to attack their headquarters though, which was in a much nicer part of town. Instead, I had to be a bit more conservative and cautious. If I, at age seven and a bit, had skills that allowed me to use magic and do some pretty incredible things, then an adult with bully-training and years of experience would be leagues ahead of me.

So I had to balance risk and reward.

My first thought was to set off the mushrooms while next to patrols. It was moderately safe, since I could trigger them from afar, and it would be easy to get away afterwards if I positioned myself well.

But the rewards... I'd hit what... two of them? They usually went around in pairs. It was better than any other idea I had for the moment.

I’d need to find or buy a slingshot, and then I’d need to practice with it.

I gathered all of my mushrooms, then placed them in a large bag before heading out. I needed a name for them too. Stink bombs? The people hit by them would certainly stink afterwards. I ran through a few names until I realized that I was spending more time on that than on actually thinking ahead. “Fuck it, purple fart bombs.” The plan was juvenile enough as it is, why not go all the way.

My first strike had to be my best one, which is why, after some consideration, I decided to leave the slums I lived in to visit the slightly nicer slums next to the Gutter.

The bullies almost all lived in a part of the city I’d never visited. From what I understood, it was the middle-class area, and it was far safer and nicer, though it was still kind of terrible. They had tiny apartments stacked atop each other there too, but the walls were made of brick and they had proper heating and power and even water.

When the bullies did come to the worse slums, they tended to do so reluctantly. And that would be their downfall.

I grinned to myself, then pulled up a bright blue bandana to cover my lower mouth. My shirt and overalls were plain and common enough and covered in a small coat I’d knit together. I also had a ratty cap on to cover my hair. I could ditch most of my outfit in a moment’s notice, and then my otherwise eye-catching hair could serve as a disguise. That was the idea, but I wasn’t sure if it would work on people who had criminal-catching skills.

I shook my head and focused. I was nearing the Gutter, and out ahead of me, on the corner of one of the busiest streets where five roads met in a mess of traffic, was a very popular stall where the local bullies gathered to refill their tea before the morning began.

Today, they’d regret being so predictable.

***