You can sift through the racc list archive https://lists.eyrie.org/pipermail/racc/
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?"
"Chocolate."
This made no sense, prompting Renegade Programmer to ask, "What's chocolate?"
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
distinction.
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
afterthought.
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 rematerialise.
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
speed.
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."

[continued in next message]

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