Staring down at the mark below his feet, Nitrous couldn’t help but grimace. For someone to waste paint on such a useless drawing; he was flabbergasted. He glared at the man as he walked away, and he made one statement before the guy walked away on his task.
“Your geometry is deplorable at best, and atrocious at worst. I hope that your other art makes a little more of an impact.”
He moved past the rest of the group, grabbing his slip of paper from the box as he tilted his head towards the man in the gas mask for one last moment. He didn’t fully understand where this man was coming from, or what kind of process was moving through his mind in this moment as he set challenges for this group of artists.
Nevertheless, Nitrous never backed down from a puzzle or challenge. It was like building computers, or taking things apart and back together. People were so impatient these days that they expected him to fulfill tasks for them within a few minutes of delivering the solution. Making something large and impressive for a few hours on a building, that shouldn’t be a problem. Though the thought of this boy’s disrespect of circles… that was going to get under his skin for sure unless he did something about it. He grabbed the paper, flipped it open as he stepped out the door and snuck another sip of coffee from beneath his mask. With another tap of a heel his wheels were out and his Gear were speeding away as a bright trail of neon light swirled out behind him.
The building in question was exactly what he wanted: that big building near one of the major intersections. It used to be a brick apartment once, but it had been knocked down and replaced with this very slick white office building. This would just have to be another way to take it back.
He stuck to the back roads for the most part, passing down to a ramp past a road, sliding up over a construction site and grinding down the railing of the massive “do not enter” fence. If efficiency was the goal, then limiting colors would be the best bet. From his bag he pulled two cans out as he leapt of the fence and spun around to the back of said building. There were some people around, and he could see some lights high up near the top, but he also saw a thick box nearby. A heavy lock kept it stuck, and a thick yellow sign depicting a lightning bolt as a means of warning was displayed above a small white panel. He moved over to it carefully, turning of his Gear only for a second to diffuse the lights. Then he moved to the panel.
“Well then, plastic case, what are you hiding?” He smirked.
His gloved hands moved around the surface of it, found some screws in the back, and pulled out a small screwdriver. The case dropped to the concrete with a clack as he found a small display and a smattering of wires. He took out a small pair of wire cutters, and found one particular wire. With a quick cut, the building’s power suddenly went black. His gear went back on and he got to work.
The building was about five stories. Not tall enough to reach for the stars, but enough to give him a massive white canvas. He sped up his Gear and when with a blast of speed, taking a nearby railing to hop up a couple stories of a smaller building nearby. Then, from the roof, he launched himself at his target, throwing his feet in front of his body with the momentum. Bracing for impact, he pushed his heels forward, and the moment they hit the wall, the wheels retracted and the spikes emerged. Sure, there would be some holes in the white wall of the building, but it wouldn’t be a big deal. Then, using himself as the focal point, he got to work.
He had to take that leap a couple more times, re-adjusting his positioning and using the wheels of his Gear to climb up the sleek surface or let gravity tug him downwards. The next upgrade would be adding some grapple element to his belt just to hang and give him a different angle.
But Nitrous was anything if not a perfectionist. The speed was a pressing challenge, and there were a couple moments where he had to wait for a police officer to drive by, probably because the power of a building had been cut by some “mysterious force”.
Sometimes the authorities were absolute imbeciles. Too blinded by the streaking whiteness of their conformist society.
In about two and a half hours, the piece was done, climbing from the top of the fifth story down to the bottom of it.
Satisfied, he released the spikes, pulled out the wheels and used some combined electronics and gravity to leap for a lamp post, spin around it once and then flip towards the ground, doing a slight roll on impact. He winced as a sharp pain went through his shoulder, probably a bruise, but he was up on his feet rather quickly.
With a deep breath, he pulled his hood off, turned off his Gear and re-approached the box. Using some electrical tape and the same screws; soon the lights came back on, and Nitrous could view his piece descending the wall in all its majesty.
Blue and red lines in separated circles, but it was clear that the geometry was thought out, the rings and their purposeful angles, and the colours dragging all attention towards the centre. The cans, now more than empty, were stashed back in his bag as he walked around the corner of a side street. Already he could hear shouts behind him as people started to wander towards the massive rings.
Mission accomplished.
Once he was sure he was out of site, he took a more direct route back to the warehouse. It may have involved grinding over some store front signs (and right past the window of some couple having a couple’s night) and then taking a broken pipe back into slum territory.
He found himself back at the warehouse with only five minutes to spare, but he walked back in as casually as he could, tossing the empty cans to the ground right in front of the feet of Gas Mask. He took another swig of coffee before returning back to the exact same position he was in before. Right at the center of that awful, misaligned circle.
He groaned.
“I’m sorry, but can we do something about this atrocity?” Nitrous glowered, “It’s going to drive me crazy.”