From Newsgroup: rec.arts.comics.creative

Original message: https://lists.eyrie.org/mailman3/hyperkitty/list/racc@lists.eyrie.org/message/7237GZWQPDIX7YKVEEE6MPFGRAXR3GLP/
On Sun, Jun 22, 2025 at 4:57rC>PM Arthur Spitzer <arspitzer2@gmail.com> wrote: <snip>

Part Thirty is by Dan'l "Shade the Changing" Danehy-Oakes

The only actual LNH-adjacent story by the guy who first came up with
the idea! \o/

Brief Cases Part 1
or
A fond farewell- Good riddance to bad rubbish- Haunted trenchcoats -
The hard of hearing - People to see.

I see, I see

He turned to the librarian.
"I suppose you can't help me in finding Xeroxes."
"Oook"
"Yeah, I understand. Well thanks for the help, you have been magnificent." The librarian headed back off to his own world, while 13 and the red taped wrapped bundle that was the ex-Netromancer reappeared in Nottingham.

Whew. Now stop claiming you have your doctorate and we'll be good.

He was chanting the names of forms to
himself.
"Birth cerificate, P45, driving license."
13 turned to him and said "You ought to write those down, you could sell them as lyrics to Kylie Minogue."

I'd listen to that!

"Forms, lots of forms, all forgotton, forms removed from the continuity."
13 wondered if he had a point, the universal office probably fed off all bureauracy from all dimensions.

Ooooooh yes.

"Dr 13, I'm an acquaintance of Constantine's and have someone you'd love to meet. A man who sanity has been eaten by red tape and form shuffling. He was a pawn of a multi dimensional parasite.

Oh, well-put!

"Great, I love pubs." whispered a husky female voice in his ear.

ooooh hot

"I'm your trenchcoat." replied the voice.
"What! You've never spoken before."
"Thats because I've only just arrived here. I was a young student. I got lost in L-Space, died, but my spirit got stuck there. I thought I would hitch a ride out with you, but I appear to be stuck here."

Ooooooh, very interesting.

"Ok then Toni. We're off down the pub. It's my fault, I wanted a bloody sidekick and I end up with a clever arse cape."
"I heard that!"
"You were supposed to."

Don't be mean XP

He was just sitting down when he noticed
a young woman, dressed in black and wearing an ankh, watching a cartoon on the television. He went over.
"Hello, I'm 13, I'm one of the trenchcoaters."
"Hi, I'm Death."
"Sorry, didn't realise. I don't know any sign language."
"No, Death, not Deaf silly. Don't you just love these cartoons."

Look, it's fine, as long as they don't mention the Endless it's fine.

13 asked him what he knew about Xeroxes' mates.
"Hmm, there was a clerk some where, a judge, a traffic warden and a bank manager."
He wrote down some names and handed them to 13. Humdrum people in boring lives.
No individuality, grey suits, all part of the system. He could see why Xeroxes
had gone AWOL.

Fascinating.

He certainly did not recognize his
surroundings. Replacing the dim, smoke-filled, sticky-floored bar was the incessant hum of fluorescent lighting reflecting blindingly off of white tiled flooring and smooth white walls in a hallway which stretched to the horizon in both directions. Shade wasn't certain which place was worse.

Heeheehee

(This
reminded Shade of something that the 'coaters had mentioned. It seems
that they all had "weirdness magnets" which attracted strange happenings. Shade figured that his penchant of being yanked all over creation by the Surge Stream meant that he had either swallowed his magnet, or was himself
a "strange happening."

I'm definitely the latter. n.n

The last thing he could recall was GrimSloth entering the bar. He had
wanted to talk to him about getting a line on a soon-to-be-vacant account, but he realized that he still held in his hands a glass full of green ooze that he had gotten at GrimSloth's place and not paid for. Shade decided
to just lie low and wait for a more opportune time to ask him.

Heeheehee

Shade had hoped that the NTB'ers would
take care of him, but with the latest turn of events, well, maybe it was
one of those "if you want it done right" kind of deals.

Sadly common with trenchcoaters.

Shade hated paperwork and administration with a passion. Not that he couldn't handle it, mind you; it was straight forward enough that any fool could figure it out, given time and the right mind set. It was just that Shade very infrequently had the time, and never wanted to have that kind
of mind set.

Haha yeah x.x

The scene was more or less the same behind
each door, only the phone operator varied, although their faces all looked the same. One was dressed as a bus driver, another was a school crossing guard, another a street walker. Every walk of life, every age, every race and every creed was represented behind these doors. Shade realized that
in his attempts to destroy the NTB, the Netromancer had also consigned to this place, this endless office building, the entire population of
Chicago. While all of them were probably not answering phones, they were likely here somewhere. Perhaps in the mail room, or stuck behind a
computer doing data entry, cruel and cold work of the sort which made
Shade's skin crawl beneath his trenchcoat.

D: Damn, indeed! That's fucked up!!!

He
concentrated, and a wave of energy grew in his gut, just above his
diaphragm, and shot out from his hands and into the phone line. This
focused pulse from the Surge Stream ripped up and down the hallway,
shorting out all of the phones, and causing all of the indentured
operators to spasm and fall over unconscious.

HELL YEAH.

"You KILLED them!" The bagger looked down at the crumpled body of a window washer collapsed on the floor.

"No, they're just unconscious. Check the rabbi, if you don't believe me."

...I feel like that might be too small a sample size, but.

"What IS going on?" The bagger looked confusedly at Shade.

"That's what I'm going to find out." Shade had an inspirational flash.
"In the meantime, why don't you feed as many false messages as you can
into the system, keep it off balance."

"Sure, I guess." The look of confusion on the boy's face slowly became
one of resolve. "Yeah. Yeah, I could do that."

Awwwww, that's a good idea. :D

"Thanks, uhh....?"

"Will. Willy Watson." The bagger beamed.

Huh, interesting. X>

Shade quickly turned and walked once again toward the red glow as Will started about his task. As Shade came upon the source of the glow, he realized that he had been right. It was emanating from a sign over a door
at the end of the hallway. The sign read "EXIT." Shade passed through
the doorway, and found himself at the bottom of a dimly-lit stairwell
which stretched up farther than he could see. He began the long climb up
the stairs.

Awesome. :D
Drew "well-written stuff!" Nilium
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