LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #2: The Three Day Lull Part 2

[Arthur Spitzer]

In this weeks reposting of stuff you can find in the eyrie archive..

https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/

..we have the second part of the Three Day Lull with writings by
Dave Van Domelen who wrote Constellation and Dvandom Force and still
writes stuff for his ASH imprint.  Stephane "That's Not Spelled
Stephanie!" Savoie who created the character Kid Anarky and wrote
a lot of Net.Patrol related LNH stories.  And some more Martin
Phipps.

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Classic LNH Adventures #2:  The Three Day Lull Part 2
=====================

      From: dvandom at magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (Dave Van Domelen)

     Tsar Chasm wandered through the halls of LNHQ, wondering where everyone 
was.  Granted, the Incredible Unsleeping One and Late-Nite Lad were in the TV 
lounge, and a few were in the cafeteria, but the building was more or less 
dead.  Reaching the end of the hall, he noticed a light coming from under the 
door of one of the larger rooms in the residential area.
     Curious, he put his ear to the door and listened.
     "...well, I've run through the whole file, and can't find clue one about 
where your old teammates might be.  Maybe they haven't run into the LNH 
recently...heaven knows almost no one thought to keep records back during the 
Kinda Big Darkness Saga when you guys first popped onto the net."
     "I guess so, but it's hard to believe that my Evil Twin (Tsar Chasm 
marveled at the speaker's ability to make the words sound capitalized) stopped
the attack on LNHQ.  He only had a few minutes after replacing me to do 
anything."
     Tsar Chasm frowned as he pulled away from the door.  HIS copies of the 
LNHQ records showed that two groups had 'popped up' during the Kinda Big 
Darkness Saga...the Savants of Darkness and They Might Be Villains.  Given the
name Evil Twin, it seemed likely that the second speaker referred to TMBG, who
he knew *did* attack the LNHQ recently.  It disturbed Tsar Chasm to think that
someone was erasing LNH records without him being aware of it.  Making sure to
get away from the door, he whispered into his communication device, "Webster, 
switch to Reporter and tell me all you know about They Might Be Villains."
     After a short pause, the response came: "No information, sir."
     "WHAAAT???" yelped Tsar Chasm.  Someone had compromised his own database!
     The door flung open and Sig.Lad and Constellation dove out, ready to meet
whatever threat made the noise (normally they aren't so jumpy, but they were 
expecting a Fight Scene - See Constellation #7).  Tsar Chasm cursed softly to 
himself, then smiled broadly and said "Oh, hello.  Don't mind me, I just 
realized something was horribly wrong, but don't worry your little heads about
it.  I'm sure it's beneath your understanding.  So just toddle along now."
     Constellation looked like a whipped puppy and started to turn back to the
doorway, but Sig.Lad's costume formed into late Victorian early evening 
formalwear and his hair and beard darkened.
     "Not zo fast, Vampyre!" shouted Von Hell.sig.
     "What kind of foolishness is this?  I'm no vampire.  See the teeth?" Tsar
Chasm smiled to show his flawless dentalwork.
     "Zere are many kindts uf vampyres, herr Chasm.  You are a drainer uff 
pride, uff zoul.  You feed un confidence.  I haff read your files, and standt 
ready to fight you!"
     "Oh, come now.  That has to be the worst transliterated accent I've ever 
heard.  Is it supposed to be, what, French?"  Tsar Chasm turned his power up
to
'Puree'.
     "Ach!  Too...strongk...talkingk...in...staccato...rythym..." Von Hell.sig
slumped down, turning pale.  Constellation, only at the fringes of the hellish
assault, felt mildly ill.
     ++I feel so insignificant++ moaned Dot.  Apparently Sig.Lad could still 
hear her, for he brightened slightly.  His costume reverted to a dull grey, as
did most of the surrounding area.  Even the flamboyant Tsar Chasm felt...blah.
     In.sig.nificance Lad said, "Your power deflates egos, punctures pride.  
But as In.sig.nificance Lad I remove all ego, all pride, leaving a bland grey 
wash.  I do so gently and inobtrusively, so that people hardly notice it.  
Nothing really matters, least of all your jibes.  Without the shock of a slam 
down from a height, your power really is useless.  You might as well leave, 
there's not much point in hanging around here."
     Tsar Chasm felt waves of ennui wash over him.  It really didn't matter, 
did it?  Maybe he'd just go home and wash his towels.  Should he teleport or 
walk?  Who cared?  He shuffled away boredly.
     Once he got around the corner and out of the grey area, he perked up to 
his normal self and gasped for vibrancy like a drowning man gasps for air.  He
thought, "Gods, what a dangerous power.  I'd better stay clear of Sig.Lad
until
I can find a counter to that awful insignificance field.  Hmm...he could be a 
threat to me in the future, I'd better get Webster programmed as a Permuter
and
look for any powers he could use with 'sig' in them."
     Composing himself, Tsar Chasm headed down the stairs to the main areas of
the HQ.
     Meanwhile, Sig.Nal Lad sent out the general alert himself after finding 
that the computers wouldn't transmit a warning about Tsar Chasm....

        From: phipps at chopin.Physics.McGill.CA (Martin Phipps)


  Radioactive Dude went to Deja Dude's room and knocked on the door.
  CRACK!
  "Oops!"
  Deja Dude came to the door (or what was left of it) wearing his robe.
"Yes?" asked Deja Dude, impatiantly.
  "I saw a stranger downstairs but he said he wasn't Tsar Chasm: he said
Tsar Chasm wears armour."
  Deja Dude nodded.  "Uh huh.  Tell me, do you ever change those bandages
of yours?"
  Radioactive Dude nodded.
  "Why?"
  "After a few days I smell very badly."
  "Right.  So do you suppose Tsar Chasm wears his armour *all* the time or
do you think maybe he has it cleaned once in a while?"
  Radioactive Dude didn't answer.
  Deja Dude sighed.  "Trust me, RD, the guy I saw was --"
  AOOGA  AOOGA  AOOGA ...
  "There you go: seems somebody else recognised him and is now sending out a
general alert."
  "The bad man lied to me!"
  Deja Dude nodded.  "Apparently."
  Radioactive Dude's eyes began to glow.  He raised his fist in the air.
"RADIOACTIVE DUDE SMASH!"  He ran off.
  Deja Dude sighed, fixed the door up as well as he could and went back in
his quarters.  "Now where were we?"  Deja Dude hoped there would be no more
interruptions.

             From: 003695s at dragon.acadiau.ca (Stephane Savoie)

        Curly was thinking.
        This in itself was a major accomplishment, as anyone who had ever
met Curly could have told you.  Curly wasn't so much as dumb as.... well...
        ummm....
        ... all right, he was dumb.  Really really dumb.
        Right now he was contemplating life.  Especially his.  He had just
discovered a new emotion, a new feeling he had never experienced before,
and was trying to comprehend what it was.  He had been thinking about it
for a while now, here under Kid Anarky's bed.  He liked it here.  It was
nice and warm, and people rarely came in at all.  As a matter of fact, it
had been days since Curly had left this very spot under the bed.
        This new emotion was a sort of insatisfaction with his current
lifestyle.  For the last few months he hadn't done much.  Let's see... he
lived under the receptionist's desk for a while, which was nice.  Then he
moved up here to Kid Anarky's room (underneath the bed specifically...) 
He moved around a few more times, from Panta's room, and back.
        But now, this.  He was sure this sensation had a name.  If he had
to give it a name, he would probably name it... boredom.
        Boredom.  This newfound revelation filled Curly with a feeling of
power.  That _he_, by himself, had come to this conclusion after a meesly
few days of wrestling with the situation.
        But now he had a whole new dillema... He was bored.  He knew that
much.  But how to solve the situation? 
        Curly shifted over onto his back as small whisps of smoke rose
from his ears.

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

        Radioactive Dude was confused.  Hadn't his good, good
friend Deja Dude told him that Tsar Chasm was walking around insulting his
mother?  How was he supposed to beat him up if no-one else would tell him
where the bad-guy was?
        As RD rounded a corner me slammed right into someone else,
knocking them both off their feet.  Not pausing to consider the awsome
power which must be held by anyone who could knock someone with the
strength of RadioActive Dude off his feet, he quickly glanced annoyedly at
his assailant.
        The mystery figure was dressed in a stange new-age costume.  Most
of it was blue or turquoise.  He was massively muscled with white hair and
a large blue cape.

        Curly looked at this strange figure swathed in bandages, almost as
largely proportionned as himself.  Plagued with indecision, he had decided
to find an old friend of his, one he hadn't seen in many many months. 
Causie.  Lost Cause Boy.  His other friends (Kid Anarky and Panta, and
some strechie kid) had once had a big talk with him about Causie going to
sleep, and jumping on clouds, and fishes and toilets, but Curly had
decided it was too complicated and dismissed it as insignificant.
        Yes, Curly was positive Lost Cause Boy had slept enough.  It was time
to wake him up.  He had found his mission: his quest: to find Causie, and
wake him up!
        And now this.  Curly, his tiny brain attempting pitifully to adapt
to this new situation, formulated his next question with all the tact of a
brick: "D-UH!  Hi!  Umm.... you wanna be friends?"

        Radioactive Dude looked at this overmuscled bufoon who now looked
at him with large hopeful eyes.  He looked at Curly.  He looked at
himself.  He looked at Curly's grin.  He looked at himself sitting on the
floor.  He looked at Curly's nice blue cape.  And he jumped to the next
most reasonable conclusion: he didn't know who this person was, but
violence _had_ to be the solution.
        RD pounded on Curly, screaming "Die, Tsar Chasm!" 

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To Be Continued Next Week!
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Arthur "Same Classic Channel.  But Same Time?  Probably not." Spitzer