LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #206: Legion of Net.Heroes Volume 2 #34-35

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Sun Jun 27 14:29:30 PDT 2021

You can sift through the racc list archive
or you can try google groups racc for these issues of LNH v2.

And this week we have a double header by Saxon Brenton

First off is LNH v2 #34.  Some mysterious force has stolen all of the
Looniverse's chocolate and have also attempted to erase the knowledge of
that tasty confectionary from all of the minds of all of the people who
care about such things.  But who could be behind this dastardly misdeed?!
Perhaps Count Chocula?  Maybe the Cuckoo for Coco Puffs bird?  Dare I say
the Quik Bunny?  And what about the Cookie Crisp Crook?  Well, probably not
him since his whole deal is stealing cookies and not chocolate.  And
probably not the others due to copyright infringement issues -- because
Saxon would never break copyright law... or would he?! (does Australia
even have copyright law... probably not!)

And then we have LNH v2 #35.  Twitter and Hell Catalyst are having your
typical girls shopping day fun time at least till the Forces of Spots
and Stripes try to destroy all of reality!  And will we find out the
inspiration for this issue wasn't in fact the 8th High Concept Challenge,
but instead that Saxon got this idea from the seedy back alley ways of Sydney
where they sell cheap knockoff fake American comics involving characters with 
names like the Spot Spangled Kid?!  Most likely.  Most very likely.

Anyhow, find out some of that in...

             | |      Classic			
             | |                      =
             | |      ____    ____    _    ____    ___
             | |__   | [] |  | [] |  | |  | [] |  | _ \  

             |____|   \__]    \__ |  |_|   \__/   |_|\_\
                                |_|  OF NET.HEROES

                                    ADVENTURES #206

                  Legion of Net.Heroes Volume 2 #34-35

From: Saxon Brenton saxonbrenton at hotmail.com 
Date: Tue Feb 23 15:56:54 PST 2010

[LNH][Contest] Legion of Net.Heroes Volume 2 #34
Lots of chocolate, a nominal amount of hardwired aliens, but an only 
metaphorical use of swimming.
___  ___________________________
| |-|                           \  
| |-| []                        /                #34
| | | [] egion of               \       'The Divinity Thieves'
| | | []__ [] []   []  []       / (Part of High Concept Challenge #6) 
| | | [___][ \[]et.[]__[]eroes  \  
| | |      []\ ]   [ __ ]       /    written by and copyright 2010
| |-|      [] []   []  []       \           Saxon Brenton
| |-|___________________________/
| | 
| | 
| | 
| | Cover shows Occultism Kid staring with a thoughtful expression 
| | at an empty chocolate bar wrapper that he is holding.
| | 
| | 
| | 
[A Silver Age-style roster of characters in the form of a series of mug 
shots in little circles runs down the side of the title page:]
Roll call for this issue:
  o  Occultism Kid!
  o  wReamhack!
  o  Renegade Programmer!
These are just some of the super-powered do-gooders who belong to an 
organisation that thinks that running around with your underwear on 
the outside is acceptable as a fashion statement.  They are: the 
Legion of Net.Heroes!
     Two hours ago Occultism Kid knocked on the open door to the computer 
lab, then walked in without waiting for a reply.  "Hey guys.  Don't 
mind me, I'm just checking something."
     wReamhack looked up briefly from his computer screen and said, "Sure 
thing, Ocky."  Renegade Programmer mumbled something around whatever high 
sugar snack he had in his mouth and kept on typing.  Their sanguine 
acceptance of the other net.hero going about his work continued for a 
few seconds, until it became apparent that in this instance 'checking 
something' meant rummaging among the discarded candy bar wrappers 
scattered around and under Renegade Programmer's desk.
     Then Occultism Kid made a satisfied "Ah!" noise and stood up with 
a small selection of wrappers that he had just found.  He took the 
wrappers to an empty workspace and began to carefully peel them out flat 
so that he could examine their insides.  "Hmm," he went.  Then he looked 
up and asked, "wReamhack, just a quick question.  Do you know how long 
it's been since Domestic Lad cleaned this lab?"
     "Yesterday that I know of," said wReamhack, bemused.  "Uh, what are 
you looking for?"
     This made no sense, prompting Renegade Programmer to ask, "What's 
      Occultism Kid gave him an unreadable look, then said, "Up until 
sometime only a few hours ago, it was *the* most popular confectionary 
on the planet.  Now, nobody even remembers that it existed.  But," he 
held up one of the wrappers, "at least I know that it did exist.  It 
hasn't been retconned to have never been, or anything like that."
     Renegade Programmer blinked in surprise.  It would take him a few 
more seconds to consciously register what that meant, but his first 
reaction was a sense of unease.  "You're kidding."
     "Not in the slightest.  Look, just after breakfast this morning 
Multi-Tasking Man made a general announcement that all that the 
chocolate in the world had just gone missing and that the Legion was 
going to Yellow Alert.  Now it's a few hours later, the chocolate is 
still gone, but nobody can even remember that it even existed in the 
first place."
     "Huh," went Renegade Programmer.  A few taps on his keyboard later 
he said, "Yeah.  I've found the recording of the alert announcement."
     Intrigued, wReamhack tried something else.  He frowned.  "Nothing 
on Wikipedia."
     "Not quite true," said Renegade Programmer as he looked for 
himself.  "Check the logs.  There was an entry for chocolate, but it 
was deleted 45 minutes ago on the grounds that it was an obvious 
elaborate joke."
     Occultism Kid rolled his eyes in exasperation.  "They're quick. 
I'll give them that."
     "Okay, here's an entry for chocolate from the _Encyclopaedia 
Britannica_ online," said wReamhack, having moved on.
     "That's fine," replied Occultism Kid.  "Just checking, really." 
Renegade Programmer, however, was reading with the start of a scowl on 
his face.  Not so much from concentration, but as his dismay turned to 
growing anger.  There was a whole category of snack foods... a really 
big category... that had been stolen.  That bothered him very much.
     Oblivious to this, Occultism Kid continued, "Look, contact the 
various confectionary manufacturers, and see what's going on with them. 
At the very least they'll be wondering why they suddenly have so many 
staff with nothing to do."
     "And you're going to go hunting for the cause?" said wReamhack.
     "Well, yes.  Of course."
     "Good," said Renegade Programmer with an uncharacteristically grim 
tone of voice.
     One hour ago Occultism Kid had a nasty shock.
     He had quickly determined that there was no chocolate to be found 
anywhere in the Looniverse.  However there had been clear indications 
of chocolate in other universes, so he had made a quick trip across to 
Looniearth-B to acquire some in his TANDI, his magically powered 
space-time travel machine.  Both sweetened and unsweetened chocolate, 
cocoa powder, as well as cacao leaves and flowers and beans.  And of 
course before returning home he had protected most of his purchases in 
little containers bolstered with plotdevicium.  A prudent measure, 
since the unprotected slabs of chocolate had vanished the instant he 
had returned to the Looniearth-A universe.  So he now had some samples 
of chocolate and he could use these with the Law of Similarity for a 
more powerful search.
     With this basic material gathered, he turned his attention to 
collecting other substances with useful mystic symbolism.  He knew 
that chocolate was a bit like coffee in that it was produced from a 
ground bean, in this case the cacao bean of the tropical plant 
Theobroma cacao.  He wandered over to his bookshelves, and with random 
inspiration gleaned from wReamhack's earlier use of the online version 
of the reference work he took down the appropriate volume of his copy 
of the 11th edition of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_.
     There wasn't any mention of chocolate there.
     The Legionnaire stared at the book's index, then over to where he 
had left the used candy wrappers he had picked up in the computer lab.  
They were gone.  A hasty five minutes later, after checking a botanical 
dictionary, a thesaurus of symbolism, _The Junior Word.chuck's 
Guidebook_, a telephone directory and an internet search, it was 
apparent that things had gotten worse.  Not only was there no longer 
any chocolate, nor any memory of chocolate, but in the past quarter 
hour the evidence of there having ever having been chocolate, as well 
as anything to make chocolate out of, plus the existence of chocolate 
substitutes like carob, had all gone as well.
     Merciful Net.ernity!  He had assumed that because the initial 
disappearance hadn't involved retconning, that he wouldn't have to 
worry about retconning coming into play at all.  Not a wholly 
unreasonable assumption, but like all ass-umptions it had held the 
risk of spinning around and biting him on the backside.  He'd been 
blindsided and probably lost whatever initiative he'd enjoyed.
     Occultism Kid considered his options.  He had been planning on 
going for a swim - metaphorically speaking - in the human collective 
unconscious to examine the absence created by the loss of knowledge of 
chocolate.  After that... well, wherever the clues took him, he 
supposed.  That approach didn't seem particularly feasible now.  The 
collective unconscious was very much a palimpsest, and wouldn't retain 
the details he was looking for if the events had been made to unhappen.
     But perhaps there was another option.
     Right now the Aztec fertility goddess Xochiquetzal is watching 
Occultism Kid as he screams.
     The mortal sorcerer had come to her attention when he'd begun 
mystically immersing himself in the symbolism of chocolate in 
preparation to dive into the Astral plane.  From his actions she'd 
deduced that he'd been intending to search for the iconic abstraction 
of chocolate - what the Anglos sometimes referred to as the Platonic 
idea of the thing.  If that had indeed been so then he would have had 
an arduous trip, since the realm of pure forms was far removed from 
Anahuac, the mortal world.
     Not that this had made any difference in practice.  No sooner had 
the trenchcoat wearing net.hero arrived on the Astral than he been swept 
up in a psychic riptide and dragged before the Yama Nictrama.  It looked 
to Xochiquetzal as though Occultism Kid had been half expecting 
something like this, since he had put up some resistance but not enough 
to exhaust himself, and despite being unceremoniously deposited at her 
feet he had looked about with interest.  A clever sorcerer.  But was he 
clever enough?
     And then the aliens had raped his mind in their bloody-minded quest 
for the knowledge they sought, and Occultism Kid had screamed.  Screamed 
for longer and louder than would have been possible had he merely been 
in his flesh and blood body. 
     Occultism Kid regains consciousness.  His throat feels raw and 
sore and his brain feels bruised - not something that he's used to 
feeling when he's outside his body, but otherwise a predictable 
psychosomatic effect.  He looks around again, and to the best that he 
can remember the situation hasn't changed.
     He is in what looks like a vast space but which somehow feels 
claustrophobic.  Other than that he cannot make out much, as its 
appearance seems to be mutable and keeps shifting.  The only other thing 
that he can say for certain is that he is lying/floating/drifting prone 
before a woman of native American appearance who is herself bound to a 
wooden frame.  She looks young, is dressed in pre-Columbian Aztec finery, 
and even now is still quite beautiful even though her imprisonment has 
left her looking drained and haggard.  Her psychic signature quite 
clearly indicates that she is a god - which is something that concerns 
Occultism Kid because even when you weren't dealing with an outright 
psychotic who hurts people for fun like Tezcatlipoca, it's rarely safe 
to be in the vicinity of an Aztec god.
     He sketches out a ritual greeting to the best that he is able, then 
says in the Nahuatl language, "My Lady, I am Occultism Kid of the Legion 
of Net.Heroes.  What is going on here?"
     "The situation is grave, Occultism Kid," she replies.  "I am 
Xochiquetzal, the Lady of Flower Petals.  We are being held prisoner by 
extraterrestrials calling themselves the Yama Nictrama.  They are after 
the secret of divinity."
     He moves forward to see if he can free her.  As he does so he says, 
"Er...  So far all that I know is that all the chocolate has been stolen."
     She nods.  "Yes.  They think that chocolate holds they key to their 
quest."  He looks bemused, so she explains, "They are very literal 
minded.  Do you know the meaning of the botanical name of the cacao tree?"
     "Yes.  Theobroma cacao.  'Chocolate, food of the gods'...  Oh."
     "They do not understand metaphor."
     That raises a whole new set of questions, but it did at least 
explain some things.  Xochiquetzal is a fertility goddess with a wide 
range of spheres of control - which the Aztecs called ixiptla, and which 
can be worn and swapped like garments as the occasion requires.  
Agriculture, flowers and the chocolate produced by the cacao are only 
some of her portfolios of responsibility.  Little wonder that if the 
Yama Nictrama are snatching up everything relating to chocolate that 
they would nab a god of chocolate as well!
     By now it is clear that Occultism Kid cannot free Xochiquetzal from 
the frame, nor damage it despite its mundane wooden appearance.  The 
LNHer looks around.  He cannot see the aliens, yet he can feel their 
presence.  They are all about.  Invisible?  Maybe even Lurking?  Or 
perhaps so strange that even in this lower Astral realm-of-the-mind he 
cannot perceive them?
     Apparently Xochiquetzal guesses what he is thinking, and says, 
"They are small.  Very small.  Once they were a race of flesh and blood, 
but when they ventured into space they engineered new bodies for them-
selves and engraved their consciousnesses onto specks of metallic dust."
     .oO( Metallic dust, huh? ) thinks Occultism Kid.  .oO( That might 
make them vulnerable to magnetic manipulation.  A pity we aren't in 
the material world to take advantage of that. )
     He gazes about, making the effort to *perceive* rather than 
merely *see*.  His mind interprets their presence as moving motes of 
light.  They are indeed all around, their attention only peripherally 
on the two Earthlings.  Most of their interest is elsewhere, probably 
taken up by the futile method they're using for their quest.  Thinking 
out louds he says, "They aren't going to stop taking the world apart 
until they get what they want."  A rather disturbing memory intrudes: 
just prior to diving into the Astral, when he had been collecting 
various symbols of chocolate, he had written down the chemical formulae 
for alkaloids such as theobromine and phenethylamine, mainly to bulk out 
the components for the spell.  Those handwritten notes, and indeed the 
bits of text of the book he had copied them from, had then been erased 
with a quiet sussuration, mirroring the just-as-sudden removal of the 
chemicals themselves.  He has a horrible premonition of not just 
chocolate, or things associated with chocolate, but things associated 
with things associated with chocolate, lapsing out of existence as the 
Yama Nictrama methodically and wrong-headedly take the world to pieces 
in pursuit of their objective.
     The Legionnaire turns to Xochiquetzal and asks, "How did you get 
them to tell you about themselves?"
     "I did not.  While they were reading my mind I was reading theirs."
     "Because connections can work two ways.  Yes, of course."  He sighs.  
"This is going to hurt," he again says to himself.  There's not much 
point in asking Xochiquetzal for sympathy on this; from an Aztec deity's 
point of view humans are meant to endure the pain of making sacrifices 
to ensure the continued existence of the world.  He makes a quick 
preparation and then begins his gambit.
     "Hey Nictrama!" he yells.  A significant number of them turn their 
attention to him.  "You're going about this the wrong way..."
     And as he tries to articulate his argument, he feels the return of 
the pain - like repeated waves of ice cream headache washing through his 
skull.  As he was counting on, the Yama Nictrama don't share when they 
can take.  Or maybe they just have networked consciousnesses and don't 
see the point in anything other than direct filesharing of memories.
     Occultism Kid regains consciousness again.  His throat - or the 
Astral equivalent of his throat - doesn't feel as sore, and he wonders 
if he screamed this time.  Oh well.
     Nothing seems to have changed.  Xochiquetzal is still bound.  The 
Yama Nictrama are still present and going about their demented business.  
It seems that the aliens either weren't impressed by his attempts to 
explain what metaphor is, or just didn't understand it.  He lies still 
and uses a spell of information analysis to quickly page through the 
knowledge that he successfully absorbed from his captors, and comes to 
the conclusion that it was probably the latter.  Their current state of 
being mires then in a materialist worldview, which if nothing else 
explains their reductive attempt to find god.
     God?  No, not quite.  They already have a god in their clutches, 
after all, and with the sort of power they possess could easily scoop 
up every pantheon on Looniearth if they wanted to.  Xochiquetzal had it 
right when she said they were searching for divinity; a subtle 
     He looks at Xochiquetzal.  "My Lady, I'm going to need your help 
with this.  The Nictrama need to move up from the material world and 
even the lower Astral onto one of the spiritual planes."
     "Even one of the simplest spiritual levels," she agrees.  "Just so 
that they can see the way."
     "Yes.  Well, there's no way that either of us will be able to 
explain to them and get them to go where they need to.  They have too 
much of a blind spot.  We need to force them onto a higher plane."
     Xochiquetzal looks coolly sceptical.  "The Yama Nictrama host are 
more powerful than either of us," she points out.
     He grins.  "Back on the material plane I have some plot devices 
stockpiled and ready to be used, right next to my body."
     "Ah," she says, and returns his smile.  "Then take my mantles of 
divinity and use them to carry out your plan."
     "Uh, I'm a mortal, Lady Xochiquetzal.  I can only really wear one 
god guise at a time."
     "Bound as I am, I cannot act on my own.  If you use those plot 
devices, how many ixiptla could you assume then?"
     Occultism Kid makes a quick guestimate.  "Three or four, I suppose."
     "Take my three most powerful ixiptla, and then lead these machine 
people to where they need to go," she says.
     He nods, and concentrates.  Back in his room at the Legion of 
Net.Heroes Headquarters his body reaches out and in a teleoperated 
movement activates the plot devices sitting on the floor in front of him.  
On the Astral plane the imprisoned goddess remains bound but somehow 
passes over what looks like three capes or cloaks, which Occultism Kid 
puts on, one after the other.  Her portfolio of chocolate.  Her portfolio 
of agriculture.  Her portfolio of female fecundity.
     .oO( I'll need to make sure that MasterBlaster never hears about 
this, ) he thinks.
     Then the end comes.  The apotheosised Occultism Kid reaches out 
and scoops up the Yama Nictrama host with ease, scattered though they 
are across at least two planes of reality and tens of thousands of 
kilometres.  Then before they have time to react he drags them upwards 
to a plane of being that will be better for them.  Not necessarily 
where they want to be, but definitely where they karmically need to 
go.  Then for good measure he gives them a metaphorical wap upside the 
head with a compulsion to explore their new environment and not come 
back until they learn to behave themselves.  After that returning the 
chocolate and repairing them damage that they'd done is almost an 
     All that done he turns his attention to Xochiquetzal.  Without the 
Yama Nictrama to restrain her she easily removes herself from the frame.  
Occultism Kid returns the ixiptla.  He could simply will them back to 
her, but instead deliberately takes the time to mime taking them off 
and folding them up neatly before handing them over.  "Thank you for 
your help," he says.  She nods, and they both depart.
     Back in his room and in his own body Occultism Kid gets up from his 
lotus position and stretches.  Suddenly there is a small clapping sound, 
a bit like a gunshot, as something appears on the table before him.  A 
small pile of seed pods and a slab of what looks like chocolate, although 
it looks like it's had food colouring added to it because it's a vivid 
rust red.  Occultism Kid breaks off a small chunk and eats it, carefully 
tasting it.  It's unsweetened chocolate and therefore rather bitter, 
but it also has a smoky aftertaste, kind of musky, that he's never 
associated with chocolate before.  There is also a short note 
accompanying the pile, apparently handwritten:  'Plant these and 
cultivate them carefully.  They will prove popular.'
     And that was how a completely new type of chocolate - red chocolate - 
came into being.
=========Authors notes:
     Written for the 6th High Concept challenge: "When the Earth 
becomes infested with hardwired aliens, one Earthling and his/her 
chocolate respond by swimming."  (Why yes, it is a somewhat more-surreal-
than-normal notion for a story.  The fifth contest was a tie, and rather 
than use two separate concepts - as was done for HCC2 - this time the 
concept was a single sentence spliced together from two independently 
prepared submissions.)
     This story isn't actually eligible as a contest entry, since it's 
one of the two written by the previous winners simply to prove that the 
concept was viable.  Doubly so because the various rewrites to make it 
read as a story rather than an extended info dump have brought it in 
after the HCC6 deadline.  Trebly so because I'm the vote moderator for 
this round and will ignore any hypothetical votes for it simply because 
I can.
     The theft of both a thing and the concept of the thing is lifted 
from the Mighty God King's mini-essay 'The Thieves of Blue' in his 'Why 
I should Write Dr Strange' series.
     The Yama Nictrama are loosely based on the noocyctes from Greg 
Bear's novel _Blood Music_ - which incidentally explains/handwaves their 
cosmic levels of power: billions upon billions of tiny intelligences 
were doing so much Observing of the world that that in a funky 
Schrodingerian-technobabble way they were able to manipulate reality on a 
quantum level.  (Or at least, I think that's the handwave from the climax 
of the novel.  It's been over a decade since I read it.)
Saxon Brenton   University of Technology, city library, Sydney Australia
     saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au     saxonbrenton at hotmail.com
"These 'no-nonsense' solutions of yours just don't hold water in a complex
world of jet-powered apes and time-travel." - Superman, JLA Classified #3

From: Saxon Brenton saxonbrenton at hotmail.com 
Date: Sun Apr 25 00:46:09 PDT 2010

[LNH][Contest] Legion of Net.Heroes Volume 2 #35  HCC8
___  ___________________________
| |-|                           \  
| |-| []                        /                #35
| | | [] egion of               \    'Opposites: Spots and Stripes'
| | | []__ [] []   []  []       / (Part of High Concept Challenge #8)
| | | [___][ \[]et.[]__[]eroes  \  
| | |      []\ ]   [ __ ]       /    written by and copyright 2010
| |-|      [] []   []  []       \           Saxon Brenton
| |-|___________________________/
| | 
| | 
| | Cover shows a number of LNHers reeling in surprise, pain or perhaps 
| | just drama as overlays of two different colour schemes - one of 
| | spots and the other of stripes - clash unevenly down the centre of 
| | the illustration.  The overlays have almost-but-not-totally washed 
| | away the original hues of the Legionnaires, but they bear no 
| | relationship to the shapes of the things they are bringing colour to.
[A Silver Age-style roster of characters in the form of a series of mug 
shots in little circles runs down the side of the title page:]
Roll call for this issue:
  o  Occultism Kid!
  o  Hell Catalyst!
  o  Twitter!
with appearances by:
  o  Captain Capitalize!
  o  Fearless Leader!
  o  The Hooded Ho''od Win
  o  Innovative-Offense Boy!
  o  Irony Man!
  o  Johnny Stomper!
  o  Limp-Asparagus Lad!
  o  wReamHack!
These are just some of the super-powered do-gooders who belong to an 
organisation that thinks that running around with your underwear on 
the outside is acceptable as a fashion statement.  They are: the 
Legion of Net.Heroes!
     Luke Nzikal arrived home in suburban Net.ropolis after a long day at 
the office, intending to unwind with some online gaming before dinner.  
He'd already doffed his coat and tie as he'd left work, and now begrudged 
only enough time to change out of his starched button down shirt in favour 
of a more comfortable t-shirt before settling down in front of his TV and 
logging on to a session of Clown Incursion.
     The premise to the game was simple.  Actually working your way 
through it was more difficult since it required a modicum of strategic 
thinking.  The world had been invaded by evil extradimensional clowns with 
terrible Lovecraftian abilities.  It was up to players - who belonged 
either the faction of robot pirates or of zombie ninjas - to stop the 
invasion.  However pirates and ninjas hated each other, and with all other 
factors being equal would get almost as much experience points from 
knocking off their rivals as they would from destroying the clowns.  
Players therefore had to gather information about each clown incursion 
and carefully assess whether they could afford to go it alone, or whether 
they needed to make a temporary alliance with their enemies.
     Luke's pirate character Rustbeard was scouting a temple complex 
rumoured to be a base of clown cultists when he encountered a slurping 
horror.  More and more of these dangerous beasts had been turning up as 
random encounters recently, and their presence was a fairly solid 
indication that there was a breach into the non-Euclidean realm of the 
clowns somewhere in the area.  But was it a small breach close by, or a 
large breach at a greater distance?  Was it possible that the recent 
loss of contact with harbour city of Davenport was related to this, and 
a major incursion was underway further down the coast?
     Rustbeard drew his wheel lock blaster and fired at the horror, 
which sidestepped the robot's attack with its ability to 17-and-a-half 
dimensional shuffle.  However the pirate had enough experience fighting 
these creatures to recognise the manoeuvre and prepare an appropriate 
counter-counter attack, drawing his vibro cutlass and making a broad 
slice through a few of the most probable areas where the creature would 
     Luke frowned with concentration, then went "Wha?" as the picture 
started to go wonky.  The image seemed to be loosing resolution.  No, 
not *seemed*.  The image was losing resolution; becoming more pixilated 
as the creatures and objects on screen became blockier.  The gamer 
stared at the picture, and with both befuddlement and a knee-jerk 
irritation wondered what was going wrong with his TV.
     Then with a blinding flash of insight, Luke realised that they 
weren't pixels at all.  
     They were spots.
     He understood now.  He understood *everything*!
     Twitter frowned as she compared the two blouses.  As any woman will 
tell you there's something almost elementally pleasurable about going 
shopping.  In Twitter's case there was also something of a novelty factor, 
since up until recently her lack of control over her powers had kept her 
from being able to buy her own clothes at all.  "What do you think?" she 
asked HellCat.
     Hell Catalyst looked up from the shoe display she'd been inspecting 
and gave careful thought.  "I'd go for the blue one for casual.  The 
lacey teal one looks more formal."
     Twitter considered this.  "Hm, yeah."  And then a thought occurred.  
"Although maybe something in spots."
     HellCat blinked in surprise.  "Spots?  No, I don't think spots are 
for you."
     Twitter massaged her temples.  "No, I don't think so either, But 
someone around here does," she said, glancing around.
     What happened next was not so much an explosion, since that implies 
a physical concussion leaving devastation in its wake.  Instead the flash 
of colour left everything and everyone covered in spots - and the only 
devastation that that caused was one of good taste.  There were cries of 
surprise and consternation from around the store.
     "No, no, no!" said HellCat.  "This is *not* the fashion statement I 
was looking for!"  She held up her arm to examine the patterns across the 
back of her hand and on her sleeve.  The spots were in different patterns 
and different combinations of colours.  Then she asked, "Uh, Twitter, 
are you okay?"
     "Spots!, They're everywhere, they're taking over the entire world!" 
Twitter said, rubbing her eyes and beginning to speak in the rapid fire 
blurt that she typically dropped into when she used her super speed.
     "Well, it does kind of makes everything look like a Roy Lichtenstein 
painting..." began HellCat, but she was brought up short when Twitter 
stopped squeezing her eyes shut and looked at her with that almost 
creepily intense stare she sometimes got.
     "Not out here," Twitter said, flicking her hand to indicate the 
clothing store.  "I mean inside my head!"  Her eyes darted about as if 
he was looking for something.  "Someone's got a supervillain level 
monomania about spots."  She vanished.
     Hell Catalyst glanced around.  She couldn't see any afterimages, 
so she guessed that Twitter had moved out onto the street with her super 
     Twitter reappeared.  "Come on, he's outside," she said, then 
vanished again.
     Hell Catalyst followed her.  Twitter was standing on the curb, more 
or less in one place, but all jittery and visible mainly because of 
persistence of vision.  "Look at this place, it's cover in spots, isn't 
it great?"  She blinked.  "No wait, supervillain plot so spots are bad, 
arrgh!"  To HellCat she said, "Sorry I'm having trouble focusing."
     "Just take your time," replied HellCat, reaching out with her own 
power to influence other people.  "Take deep breaths if you have to."  
She glanced around, taking in the scene.  "So where is 'he'?"
     The city street was in a state of pandemonium, of course.  However, 
a far bigger problem was that it was also all but unrecognisable.  
Nothing had actually changed shape, but the spots that covered everything 
made them look different enough that it would take a while that the 
pattern recognition abilities of people to be able to easily comprehend 
what they were looking at.  Confusion was inevitable.  And as if to 
emphasise the point, at that moment two cars collided.  
     "He headed off that away," Twitter said, pointing northward.  "He 
looked like a guy, but he was a couple of stories up so it was kind of 
hard to tell,  He seemed to be levitating on a field of Kirby Spots...  
Dots!,  I mean Kirby Dots."
     "So he's definitely left the area?" asked HellCat, gazing out over 
the rooftops.
     Twitter shrugged.  "The overwhelming sense of spots being great is 
fading, and all I'm getting now is the people around here being ticked 
off with spots."
     Hell Catalyst took out her communicator and called back to the 
Legion of Net.Heroes HQ.  "HellCat here.  Guys, we've got a bit of a 
situation in Greystanes.  We're in High Street and everything's been 
redecorated with spots, and I mean *everything*, even the sky.  Twitter 
thinks the source may be moving north from here.  Can you do any 
tracking from your end?"
     "Well, now there's a coincidence," came the voice of wReamhack.  
"We're getting reports that the north side of the harbour has been covered 
in stripes.  Hold up a second, we've tapped into the CCTV cameras so that 
Multi-Tasking Man can plot a vector."
     Hell Catalyst looked at Twitter.  "You think maybe they're teaming up?"
     Twitter shook her head emphatically.  "The mind I felt hasn't got 
room for anything other than spots."
     "Okay," said wReamhack as he came back online. "Confirm that.  Two 
guys, one with a aura of spots, the other with stripes, and they're 
moving towards one another at speed."
     "Okey-doeky," said HellCat.  "Listen guys, if it wasn't obvious 
already, we think they could be moving in for a fight scene.  You might 
want to some heavy hitters there to break them up and keep them from 
doing collateral damage."
     "Limp-Asparagus Lad!" interjected Twitter suddenly.  "He can try 
and keep them calm with his powers."
     "There's an idea," agreed wReamhack.
     "Have you got the spot guy's starting point?" asked Hell Catalyst.
     "Uhm, yeah.  Not far from you, as a matter of fact."
     "Okay, gimmee, and we'll go check it out."
     The two of them texted down the address and made their way there.  
When they arrived they discovered a house that had one of the walls 
burst open, and a police cordon.
     "Wow, look at that!" said Twitter, who rushed over at super speed 
and examined the hole.  "It's as though the wall wasn't just decorated 
with spots, but turned into spots and lost its cohesion."
     One of the cops raised his voice and called, "Hey, this is a crime 
     Hell Catalyst showed him her ID.  "Legion of Net.Heroes," she said.
     He raised an eyebrow.  "What, are you the Spotty Sisters, or 
something?" he snarked.
     .oO( Oh dear, ) thought HellCat, and turned her powers onto him.  
In a bright voice she said, "You know, it would be a really peachy keen 
idea to let the Legion of Net.Heroes onto the scene so that they can 
solve this problem as quickly as possible."
     "Hey, yeah.  It would be, wouldn't it?  The guy who's already here 
could use your help."
     "Oh, I'm sure he could," HellCat gushed.  "Thanks for everything."
     Once they were inside the found the other Legionnaire crouched down, 
examining the remains of a television with an exploded screen.
     "Oh, hi there Occultism Kid," said HellCat.
     "Hello, Hell Catalyst," said the trenchcoat wearing mage, glancing 
over at the two women.  "Got zapped by the Spot Lord, huh?" he said, 
not without sympathy.
     " 'Fraid so.  We were shopping when the spots went down, and even 
changing into costume hasn't helped fix this fashion disaster.  Whatcha 
got here?" she asked him, as Twitter impulsively moved forward to take 
a look at the way the TV screen, but only the screen, had shattered 
outwards across the carpet.
     "Well, there's a *lot* of retcotheric energy related to our two 
antagonists.  But that isn't too much of a surprise, since they look like 
they're literally a Lord of Spots and of Stripes.  Anyway, I was kind of 
hoping that there was some sort of artefact here that one of them might 
have been drawing power from, like a battery..."
     "Or even a portal that could be shut down, cutting off the power 
flow," said Twitter offhandedly as she examined the TV, causing Occultism 
Kid to look at her in surprise.
     "Oh, right.  You must be Twitter," he said.  "Hold up a moment."
     There was a second's pause, and then Twitter blinked in surprise.  
With a touch of chagrin she said, "Oops.  Sorry, I keep forgetting not 
to do that.  Neat trick, by the way."
     Hell Catalyst was confused.  "What?"
     "Blocked my mind from being read telepathically," answered Occultism 
Kid.  To Twitter he added, "You might want to be careful about that.  I 
won't lie to you and say it wasn't at least partly about personal privacy.  
But I also know a number of occult secrets - some of them really gut 
churningly horrible stuff.  That's not really something I'd want anybody 
stumbling on by accident."
     "Er, okay," said Twitter, somewhat disturbed.
     He smiled reassuringly.  "Hey, I'm not mad or anything," he said, 
perhaps a little too quickly.  "I just worry about people ending up on 
the pointy end of good old 'things that humans weren't meant to know'.  
Human sanity can be a fragile thing sometimes."  He ahemed and 
changed the topic.  "Anyway, what we have here seems to be a direct 
manifestation of one the Lords of Spots, using a human to incarnate 
itself into a physical form.
     "Just a second," said HellCat.  " 'Lord of Spots'.  You mentioned 
that a second ago.  Is that anything like the Lords of Order and Chaos?  
Or that other one... The one involved in the affair with the undead 
gorillas in the subway?"  [_Legion of Net.Heroes Volume 2 #4-5 - Footnote Girl]
     "The Lord of Art," supplied Twitter - who even by accident was able 
to telepathically retrieve the memory faster than HellCat could.
     "That's it," agreed HellCat,  "The Lords of Art and Nature."
     "Something very much like that," said Occultism Kid.
     "Uhm," went Twitter, who had by now slowed down to the point where 
she was able to think about the notion for herself, rather than just 
have the information randomly flash through her mind.  "So how many of 
those groups are there?"
     Occultism Kid shrugged.  "Scores of them.  As many as the 
Looniverse's Drama field can bear.  Look, the force of Drama thrives on 
conflict, yes?  And one form of conflict is the dynamic antagonism 
between cosmic dualities.  Everyone knows about Good and Evil, and Order 
versus Chaos.  They're very high level ones of course, among the 
universal dualities.  Spots versus Stripes are lower down the scale.  
Much lower.  They're one of the parochials, after all.  But they can 
still cause a lot of trouble when they manifest in the material world 
and starting butting heads with each other."
     "Oh, poopy.  And here we were thinking it was simple supervillain 
monomania," said HellCat sardonically.  "So, what ideas do we have for 
stopping them?"
     Occultism Kid stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked 
thoughtful.  Twitter began to pace around the room.  "We can't cut off 
their power supply," she said.
     "Correct," agreed Occultism Kid.  "Their power seems to have been 
internalised.  We could wait until the human bodies burn out from 
overload, but there are issues of 'protect the innocent' and the amount 
of collateral damage that would be done in the meantime."
     "Could you... I dunno... exorcise the power from them?"
     "Possibly," he said, "But they're packing a *lot* of power.  
They'd have to be overpowered and restrained..."
     "Oh, that shouldn't be too difficult," HellCat said.  "All we have 
to do is call up Kid Kirby or Cheeezarr.  It's not like the Legion 
doesn't have powerful members."
     "Ooo! Ooo, ooo, ooo!" went Twitter, who started bouncing up and down 
in a very good impersonation of Kid Enthusiastic.  "I know, we use their 
power against them!"
     "Look, it's about conflicting opposites, right?  The clash of two 
types in a dynamic antagonism?  But that's not the only way that 
opposites interact!  Black and white can mix at the boundary to make 
grey.  And then there's synthesis!  The classic yin-yang symbol, where 
each half complements the other, and they have a bit of the other within 
themselves.  Can you do something to make them cancel each other out 
rather than going all matter-antimatter explodey?"
     "They'd still have to be restrained in one place, probably in some 
sort of magic circle," mused Occultism Kid.  "But on the plus side, it 
would be a lot quicker than trying to build up a separate charge of 
energy to neutralise them both."  He looked at Twitter, "You know, I 
think that might be a workable plan."
     A hasty quarter hour later:
     Fearless Leader took a skycycle and flew up to where Limp-Asparagus 
Lad was floating several hundred metres away from the sparring Lords of 
Spots and Stripes.  Fortunately 'sparring' was all they were doing - 
dancing around each other and making occasional feints as they tested 
each other's strength.  So far Limp-Asparagus Lad's drama dampening 
powers had been able to ensure to that at least, and kept the two from 
escalating into a full-on no-holds barred fight scene.
     Occultism Kid had expressed relief and gratitude for that after he 
had realised how much power the two Lords had.  He'd taken mystic 
soundings to estimate their power levels in order to be able to properly 
delineate the energy strictures of his own spell - and discovered that 
they were at minor cosmic level.  If they'd been allowed to fight one 
another, or even been engaged for subdual by some of the more powerful 
LNH members, then they were packing enough power to shatter the 
     As he made his way towards Limp-Asparagus Lad, Fearless Leader 
noted that they'd already done enough damage.  There was a several 
square kilometre zone of the suburbs along the north shore of the 
harbour which had been evacuated, and within which the landscape had 
been twisted into some piece of strange abstract art, or in a few 
locations simply disintegrated.  There were also a few news helicopters 
hovering out beyond the edge of the air exclusion zone that had been set up.
     Fearless Leader pulled up next to L-ALad, who briefly nodded to him.  
"How're things holding?" Fearless Leader asked.
     "Quite well, actually," replied the Man of Dull.  "They do not seem 
to be interested in much more than directly opposing each other, and I 
am keeping that to low level antagonism.  They also don't seem to want to 
use the ground or buildings as cover, the way humans would." 
     Fearless Leader nodded.  "That would make sense.  If they're cosmic 
principles and even their indirect fallout can reshape the landscape," 
and here he made another glance at the twisted land below them, "then 
incidental obstacles aren't much of a hindrance to them, and they'll 
simply ignore everything else."  He raised an eyebrow.  "That may be why 
you've been able to sneak in so close and dampen them down: it's not 
within their mindset to consider anything other than their direct 
opponent when fighting."
     "For which I am duly appreciative," said Limp-Asparagus Lad, 
straight faced.
     "Have they dropped any useful pieces of information while they've 
been bombasting at each other?"
     "They haven't been bombasting at each other," said Limp-Asparagus 
Lad.  "They haven't been talking at all."
     "Really?  Huh, well, that's kind of creepy.  Oh well.  Look, 
Occultism Kid is about to start his big yin-yang spell.  We're going to 
try and drive those two over to the magic circle that he's laid out on 
the basketball courts at Blueberry Fields.  Keep your powers focused on 
those two during the time the others are herding them to the trap, then 
cut off the moment Occultism Kid says he's starting the spell.
     Fearless Leader activated his communicator and said, "We're right 
to go."
     "Roger that," came the voice of Innovative-Offense Boy from the 
other end.  "Beginning operation now."
     There was a roar of jets as Johnny Stomper's StomperRobo came in 
on a flat trajectory and crashed tackled the Lord of Stripes, dragging 
him several kilometres towards the target area.  The Lord of Spots 
followed, as expected.  However about three quarters of the way there 
the Robo disintegrated into lines of vector graphics as the Lord of 
Stripes used his abilities against it.
     The Lord of Spots moved forwards to take advantage of this 
distraction, only to be caught by the same tactic as Irony Man grabbed 
him and began to drag him along as well.  CAPTAIN CAPITALIZE likewise 
joined the fray, in a somewhat successful attempt to get the Lord of 
Stripes closer to where Occultism Kid needed him.
     The Lord of Spots dismissed Irony Man with an omnidirectional burst 
of spots that acted like a repulsor ray (how ironic).  The net.hero was 
sent flying backwards, but circled around, looking for another avenue 
of attack.
     And throughout it all, the two Lords stayed eerily silent, not 
engaging in any sort of supervillainous banter at all.
     At ground level Innovative-Offense Boy lowered his binoculars with 
a shake of his head.  "It *@?>*% well looks like we've reached the point 
of diminishing @=!@# returns," he said to Occultism Kid.  Into his 
communicator he said, "Okay guys.  Pull the %$(&} back.  We're going to 
'[#@/ well try for the second +#*' plan."  Then he looked at another 
Legionnaire, who was standing beside Hell Catalyst.  "Looks like you're 
#?/}* well up, Hood."
     <( Very well, )> said the Hooded Ho''od Win.  She threw wide her 
hands in a dramatic gesture and announced, <( She Who Must Know demands... 
Wh'oo'd Win in a contest between the avatars of the Lord of Spots and the 
Lord of Stripes in a race to their allocated positions in Occultism Kid's 
magic circle. )>
     For nearly two whole seconds nothing seemed to happen.  <( They are 
resisting, )> said the Ho''od Win through gritted teeth.
     "You want to #*&@!ing well burn a plot device?" asked Innovative- 
Offense Boy.
     "No, here they come," said Occultism Kid as the two Lords suddenly 
made a beeline for their respective halves of the huge yin-yang circle. 
"NOW!" he yelled, punctuating the exclamation with a slicing motion to 
indicate that everybody should halt trying to affect the two Lords with 
their abilities; he didn't want any other superhuman powers present and 
interfering with the spell of synthesis.
     As Innovative-Offensce Boy relayed that order over the communicators, 
Occultism Kid activated the spell.  Once again there was a pause as 
nothing seemed to happen, but as soon as the two cosmic principles 
within its bounds began to throw their spots and stripes against each 
other, the circle began to glow as the energy was siphoned off.  The 
lines of the yin-yang pattern of the circle began to throb.  The Lords 
appeared  to ignore this, until a critical point was reached.  From 
then on the circle was no longer absorbing any free energy that had 
been let loose within its bounds - it was now actively leeching power 
off from the two of them.
     Now the Lords of Spots and Stripes struggled to free themselves from 
the magical trap that they found themselves in.  It didn't do any good.  
They lashed out with explosions of spots and cutting rays of stripes, but 
these were simply whisked away to the edges of the circle where they were 
absorbed.  The pattern inscribed on the ground began to pulse with greater 
vehemence.  The two prisoners tried to move to the edge of the circle and 
perhaps force their way through the barrier, but they discovered that 
they had each gravitated to the eye at the focus of each half of the 
yin-yang symbol and could not leave that spot.  And then the circle began 
to spin.
     "Whoa!" went Twitter.  She had been up close examining the glow of 
the circle, but now jumped backwards to join the other few LNHers standing 
beside Innovative-Offense Boy.  The spin of the rotating circle made a 
menacing whoosh-whoosh-whoosh noise as it sped up, despite the fact that 
the only physical things within it which were moving the two Lords.  Power 
was streaming out of them, and now for the first time they could be heard 
making a noise as they yelled in outrage and then screamed in fear.
     Their terror did not impress Occultism Kid.  "Those bodies do not 
belong to you," he said in a brokes-no-nonsense tone of voice.  "Begone, 
and do not return!"
     The rapidly rotating circle was now glowing too brightly to look at 
directly, and then with a mighty clap of thunder there was detonation.
     When people could see again the circle was no longer glowing or 
rotating, and two figures were lying unconscious on the ground.  Occultism 
Kid stepped forward to take the pulse of the closest man.  Other 
Legionnaires moved forward to check the other; Twitter got there first, of 
course.  "Still alive, but very weak," observed Occultism Kid."  He looked 
at Innovative-Offense Boy.  "A job well done, I would say."
     "You're not finished just yet," said Hell catalyst, as the paramedics 
moved it to take the unconscious men to hospital.  Occultism Kid was 
confused.  "What else besides cleaning up is there?" he asked.
     "Some of us aren't interested in going about in spots or stripes for 
any longer than is necessary," she said, pointing to one spotty hand.
     Occultism Kid rolled his eyes.  "May the Sera.pin-numbers have mercy.  
There's always *something*," he said ruefully.
=========Character credits:
     Captain Capitalize, Hooded Ho''od Win and wReamHack created by wReam 
(Ray Bingham).
     Fearless Leader created by Dvandom (Dave Van Domelen). 
     Innovative-Offense Boy created by uplink (John Scheibeler).
     Irony Man created by Doug Moran.
     Hell Catalyst created by Jeff McCosky.
     Johnny Stomper and Occultism Kid created by Josh Geurink.
     Limp-Asparagus Lad created by wReam and owned by Saxon Brenton.
     Twitter created by Rob Rogers.
Authors notes:
     Written for the 8th High Concept challenge: Opposites.
     Kind of unfocused as a story.  But Twitter is always fun to write, 
and she's even more hyper here than she was in _Beige Midnight_ for
 reasons that I suppose one day Rob and/or myself will have to get around 
to explaining in detail.  (Actually, an early idea was to team Twitter up 
with Writers Block Woman, and see how Mouse coped with *two* women whose 
powers made them somewhat scatterbrained.
Saxon Brenton   University of Technology, city library, Sydney Australia
     saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au     saxonbrenton at hotmail.com
"These 'no-nonsense' solutions of yours just don't hold water in a complex
world of jet-powered apes and time-travel." - Superman, JLA Classified #3

Next Week:  Possibly More LNH v2 issues!

Arthur "Same Classic Channel.  But Same Time?  Probably not." Spitzer

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