Nightside bit feats (The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny)

Description of a "flux fog":

This had all the makings of a flux fog.

Such things are dangerous. A flux fog means the corners of the world aren’t properly nailed down any more, and reality is up for grabs. Inside a flux fog, all certainties are thrown into question, and all the possibilities that ever were are suddenly made equal. Take the wrong turning, in a grey world where every turn looks just like every other, and you could end up walking out of the fog into a whole new place. With no guarantee you’ll ever find a way home again. Everything looks blurred and out of focus in a flux fog because you’re seeing a dozen different dimensions, a hundred possibilities, for every object or person or direction. People and places can change subtly even as you approach them; familiar faces can become strangers, and in the blink of an eye you’re trapped in a world that never knew you. The only real defence against a flux fog is not to be there when one manifests. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

An example of werewolf physical capabilities:

“Get ready,” I said. “Something’s coming.”

The werewolves came out of nowhere, dozens of them, streaming out of the side streets, racing down the main road, bursting out of the clubs and bars on either side of us. Huge, bestial shapes, with long, hairy bodies that were still vaguely, disturbingly, human. Muzzles full of teeth, and hands and feet tipped with vicious claws. Inhuman muscles bulged along their lupine frames. They were ahead and behind and all around us even as I realised what was happening. The first ones to reach us swarmed all over the Fatemobile, and it shook and juddered under their weight.

“Move move move!” I yelled, and Ms. Fate put the hammer down. The Fatemobile squealed off down the road, accelerating wildly. Some of the wolves fell off, but others clung to the roof, sinking their claws deep into the metal to hold them in place. The rest of the pack came running after us, inhuman strength driving their speed well past natural limits. The Fatemobile went faster, and so did they. Claw tips punched through the roof above me, as the werewolves fought to gain enough purchase to rip the roof open like a tin can and get at the meat inside. Ms. Fate yelled something entirely unladylike at them, and sent the Fatemobile swerving dangerously back and forth, trying to shake them off. They clung on, pounding their great fists on the metal, howling the joy of the hunt to the oversized Moon above.

More werewolves were running along beside us, easily matching our speed, occasionally reaching out mockingly to trail their claws down the side of the car. That made a sound like screeching, like screaming. The whole pack caught up with us in a few moments, surrounding the car and forcing us to drive in a straight line. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Lord Screech, an elf, is strong enough to completely decimate werewolves with his bare hands:

One wolf reared up beside Lord Screech, and punched the side window. The reinforced glass shattered, leaving a jagged hole through which a huge hairy hand came clawing, reaching for the elf, who calmly grabbed the hairy arm with both his slender hands, and broke the arm in three places with quick, efficient moves. The werewolf yelped piteously, and snatched its arm back. Screech kicked the side-door open and left the car so quickly he was little more than a blur. He grabbed the nearest werewolf, lifted it off the ground and turned it over, and broke its back across his knee. He threw the broken body aside, tore out another wolf’s throat with his bare hand, then grabbed another and used it as a club to beat other wolves.

He was hurting them, but he wasn’t killing them. They healed almost immediately and came at him again. And the moment he slowed down, they would be all over him. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

(Also shows that elves can move at blur speeds when they need to)

Silver weapons can cause weres to turn halfway human:

A werewolf hauled open the driver’s seat so quickly he ripped it right off its hinges. Ms. Fate’s hand snapped forward, and a silver shuriken sprouted suddenly from the wolf’s left eye. He howled horribly and fell backwards, turning half-human again as the pain maddened his mind and he lost control. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

(Also shows that werewolves can rip car doors off their hinges, which is fairly impressive)

An example of what Lord Screech can do to solid stone:

Lord Screech sniffed loudly, stepped forward, and thrust a single long finger deep into the blank stone face of the nearest golem. With a few quick gestures, he etched long, sweeping furrows into the stone, giving the golem a nice happy face. He gave the other golem a sad face, then stepped back to regard his handiwork. He nodded, satisfied.

“Never take sass from the hired help.”

“Can’t take you anywhere,” I said. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Screech has a spell that can cause people (only people) to explode:

A hulking figure appeared suddenly before us, blocking the narrow aisle. He wore a ruffled silk shirt over knee-length shorts, and his face was painted like a debauched clown. Rattles and dollies and clutches of blood-stained children’s finger bones hung from his belt. Two ugly horns thrust up out of his forehead. He opened his mouth to speak, but Screech cut him off.

“You, on the other hand, aren’t nearly ugly enough for what you really are. In fact, your entire existence offends my aesthetic sensibilities.”

He snapped his fingers crisply, and the man exploded. Bits of flesh and bone flew over a distressingly large area, spattering the clothes of pretty much everyone in the crowd. Interestingly, although many of them pulled disgusted faces and made appalled sounds, not one of them fell back by so much as a single step; and though the general whispering rose up loudly on every side, no-one protested. I wondered if they could. Ms. Fate looked at Lord Screech.

“Nice trick. You couldn’t have used it on the werewolves?”

“Only works on people,” said Screech. “The wolves are too far from baseline Humanity to be affected.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Some more examples of Screech's offensive magic:

Lord Screech flexed his long fingers like a piano player about to attempt a difficult piece, then stabbed his left forefinger at one attacker after another. Men and women exploded, or melted and ran like candle wax, or burst into flames. People died as fast as the elf could point, but still they fought their way through the smoke to get to us.

Because they belonged to Dr. Fell, who cared for nothing but that his will be enforced. When rogue vicars go bad, they go all the way. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Casual bullet-timing. Also, Screech uses his magic to light a flying carpet on fire:

One of the carpet riders took the sensible approach and opened up on the elf with a machine-gun. But somehow none of the bullets could find Lord Screech. He laughed in the rider’s face, extended a single finger, and the rider’s carpet caught fire. He was still alive when his length of burning cloth hit the road; but the on-coming traffic took care of that. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Walker can apparently intercept Timeslips:

So instead, I did what I should have done at the beginning, and used my gift to find the nearest Timeslip that could transport us directly to the far side of the Nightside and the Osterman Gate. I’d put off doing it because there were so many dangers involved. Timeslips don’t always go where you think they do; the time differentials are so complex you could come out the other end days or even weeks in the future. Worse still, there are all kinds of things that live inside Timeslips and prey on those who pass through. Only damned fools, certain extreme sportsmen, and truly desperate people ever enter a Timeslip by choice; but I needed this road trip to end, and end soon, before my gift burned me up completely.

I yelled a warning to Ms. Fate at the wheel, and Lord Screech on the roof, concentrated all my remaining strength; and a Timeslip opened up before us. Nothing subtle or complex about this one, only a great rip in space and time, and a huge glowing tunnel for Ms. Fate to steer into. The Fatemobile roared forward into the savage rotating energies, and, just like that, the Nightside and the pursuing carpets were gone, and we were hurtling down a shimmering corridor with no beginning and no end. Screech swung down from the roof and dropped into the back seat. Even elves have enough sense to be cautious when it comes to Timeslips. Great bells were ringing all around us, voices screeched and howled, and from somewhere came the sound of huge engines straining, fighting to hold back some incomprehensible threat.

And then the Fatemobile shot out the other end of the Timeslip, and Ms. Fate swore harshly and slammed on all the brakes. The car screeched to a halt, stopping only a few yards short of the massive barricade blocking the street before us. It rocked to a complete halt, amidst the unpleasant smell of scorched fluffy tyres, while I glared through the cracked windscreen at the man standing so elegantly before us. He raised his bowler hat to us, politely and entirely without irony, and smiled complacently.

“Nice try, John,” said Walker. “Everyone out, please. End of the line.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

“You could have taken us at any time,” I said, too tired even to be properly outraged. “You let us exhaust ourselves fighting your proxies, waiting for me to be dumb enough to use a Timeslip, all of which you’d interfered with to deliver us here. Of course. It’s what I would have done.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

 "Lord Screech" is only a guise. His real name is Puck, and his real form is...unpleasant:

I looked at Screech. “Who are you? And why do I know I’m not going to like the answer?”

“Maybe you’re psychic,” said the elf, with a smile and a wink.

His glamour disappeared like a cut-off song, and the whole world seemed to shake and reassemble itself, as Lord Screech gave way to the real elf, and his true form. I think we all gaped, just a little. In place of the typically tall and slender Lord Screech, we were now faced with an elf almost twice as tall as any of us, but bent over by a hunched back that pulled one shoulder down and forward, ending in a withered arm and a clawed hand. The rest of his form was smooth and supple as a dancer, but his hair was grey, his flesh was the colour of old bone, and two elegant horns thrust up from his heavy brow. He wore a pelt of some animal fur that blended into his own hairy torso, and his legs ended in cloven hooves. He was noble and elegant and almost unbearably inhuman. He grinned widely, his deep-set eyes full of mischief.

“Of course,” I said. “I should have known. The only elf that is not perfect. Puck.”

“Indeed,” he said, in a cold, lilting voice. “Who else but I, that wild rover of the speckled night, could pass freely between two elven Courts and yet pay allegiance to none? Loved by both, trusted by neither, able to speak and hear the things no other elf could be suffered to know? I am Puck, that merry wanderer of the Nightside, and I have led you all in a sweet and merry dance, to suit mine own purposes. I do not have the Peace Treaty, Lord Walker. I never did. Another elf has it, one of lesser renown but great craft, and he has passed quietly and unobserved through the Nightside, hidden and protected behind a most powerful glamour, while I have been so very visible, alongside the infamous John Taylor, holding your attention all this while. That other elf has now gone through the Osterman Gate with the Peace Treaty, and my part in this game is done. Be a good loser, good Walker.”

Walker considered this for a long moment, while I reminded myself, yet again, Never trust an elf. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

A statement regarding John and Excalibur:

“So,” I said. “Here we are. Mission accomplished, more or less. Now tell me what you promised I need to know.”

“Something bad is coming to the Nightside,” said Puck, and there was something in his eyes, in his voice. If he hadn’t been an elf, I would have said he was afraid. “Something very old, and very powerful. You’ll know the name when I say it, but in this at least, trust me when I tell you that it is not what you think it is, and never was. You must find it and make it yours, John Taylor. Or everything you have done will have been for nothing.”

“Why?” I said. “What’s coming? What is it, damn you?”

He leaned forward, to whisper the name.

“Excalibur.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

The Collector (apparently) has a new toy, a device that can send his consciousness into anyone in the Past, Present or Future:

“Just finished dealing with another would-be Phantom of the Sewers. I blame that Lloyd Webber musical myself. Then there was the giant ants last month. Still, every time you think you’ve got it bad, someone’s always ready to tell you something worse. I was just chatting with the Sonic Assassin, outside the Time Tower. Word is, the Collector has thieved a whole new kind of time-travel device, from some far-future museum; a device that can project his consciousness into any person in the Past, Present, and Future. So now he can track down his precious rarities in complete anonymity. Must be very dispiriting, having everyone shoot at you the moment you show your face ...” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Hadleigh Oblivion's origin story:

Everyone in the Nightside knows the history of the three Oblivion brothers. If only because knowledge is so often self-defence. Their father was Dash Oblivion, the famed Confidential Op, private investigator back in the thirties. Their mother was one Shirley den Adel, the Lady Phantasm, a costumed adventurer from the same period. They had their first son, Hadleigh, soon after they were married. Then they went time-travelling in 1946 in pursuit of an escaped war criminal, the Demon Claw. They followed him into a Timeslip, and when they came out again, it was 1973.

They had two more boys, Larry and Tommy. During their long absence, Hadleigh had gone his own way and made a name for himself, outdoing even his parents’ reputation. He represented the Authorities in the Nightside, much like Walker, all through the sixties and into the seventies. Hadleigh ... was the Man. Taught Walker everything he knew. But then ... something happened. No-one knows what, or if they do, they’re not talking, which is almost unheard of in the Nightside. Hadleigh was never the same afterwards. He went a bit strange ... and left the Authorities to walk forbidden paths.

There are forbidden paths, even in a place like the Nightside. Certain doors and ways that are sealed off, locked, and guarded—closed to all but the most powerful and the most stubborn. Not because they’re so dangerous or because so many who go in don’t go back ... The Nightside has always believed that everyone has a right to go to hell in their own way. The problem is that some of those who come back return strangely changed and horribly altered. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Hadleigh Oblivion went underground after he left the Authorities—all the way underground. He descended into the world beneath the world, into the sombre realms; and there he studied at the Deep School, the Dark Academy. The one place you can go to learn the true nature of reality. Most people fail the course. They die, or go mad, or both. Like the infamous Sigismund, the Mad Mathemagician. I worked with him on one case, when he was simply known as Madman. Last I heard he was still sleeping peacefully in his cocoon. No-one’s sure exactly what will come out of it, but Walker’s arranged an armed guard, just in case.

However, a few extraordinary souls do make it all the way through the course and return to the world above disturbingly powerful and strangely transformed. Like Hadleigh Oblivion. He walks in the shadows now, between Life and Death, Light and Dark. Or perhaps above them. Hadleigh Oblivion, the Detective Inspectre, who only ever investigates crimes and cases where reality itself is threatened. So if he’d decided to get involved ...

“Oh shit,” I said.

“Exactly,” said Larry Oblivion.

This next statement is nothing small:

“Why didn’t he show up during the Lilith War?” I said, to avoid saying a whole lot of other things. “We could have used his help.”

“Who says he didn’t?” said Larry. “There was a lot going on. And Hadleigh has always operated on a far bigger stage than us. Did you never wonder why Heaven and Hell didn’t get directly involved in the Lilith War? Do you really think your mother could have kept them out if they’d wanted in? We were knee-deep in angels when they came here looking for the Unholy Grail.”

“I didn’t start the Angel War!” I said, perhaps a bit loudly.

“Never said you did,” said Larry.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m a bit touchy about that. Carry on.”

“The point is, there are rumours that Hadleigh intervened, to keep the angels out and let us take our own shot at winning the War.”

I looked at him for a long moment. “Could he really do that?”

“Who knows? Who knows what they made him into, down in the Deep School? He’s the Detective Inspectre now.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Larry Oblivion's elven wand can manipulate time:

I ran past the slow-moving figure, and grabbed the elven wand from Polly. The dead face immediately turned to me, and I smiled. Because the moment I had the wand in my hand, I knew what it could do and how to use it. The knowledge was suddenly there, in my head, as though I’d always known it but only just remembered. I said the activating Words silently, inside my head, and the wand’s power leapt forth and took hold of the world.

Time stopped.

The mummy was still, and so was Polly, caught reaching out to snatch the wand back from me. The burial chamber was still, caught between one moment and the next. Falling dust hung suspended in mid air. I moved slowly forward, and Time did not move around me. I considered the mummy, the shrivelled face wrapped in yards of decaying gauze, like a mask baked from ancient Egyptian mud. Scary, yes, but take away the supernatural energies that drove him, and the mummy was a small, fragile thing. I considered the elven wand in my hand. Two feet long, carved from the spine of a species that no longer existed in the waking world, it shone with a brilliant light while it did its work. There were all kinds of tricks it could play, with Time. I jabbed the wand at the frozen mummy, and Time accelerated around it. The bandaged body decayed and fell apart and became dust, all in a moment.

I hefted the wand in my hand. Why had it spoken to me and not to Polly? Perhaps because it didn’t trust her. I knew how it felt.

I started Time going again, and Polly yelped loudly as she saw only a pile of dust on the floor where the mummy had been a moment before. She looked at me, glared at the wand in my hand, and gestured for it imperiously.

“No,” I said. “I think I’ll hang on to it for a while. It wants me to.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Chaos dice are, in essence, pairs of dice that work as probability changers:

We were looking for a pair of chaos dice, simple probability changers, and according to Polly, the very best example of their kind were to be found in Wu Fang’s Garden of Delights. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Walker makes a man shit himself. (Yeah...)

Walker was infamous for knowing things he shouldn’t and doing something horribly punitive about it—pour discourager les autres.

And whatever he does, no-one ever protests. Because he’s Walker.

But there’s always one, isn’t there? Someone always has to learn the hard way. In this case, it was one of Black Betty’s overmuscled goons. She always had half a dozen or so on a leash in case she met a customer. This particular goon decided he was going to impress his mistress, so he stepped forward to face Walker, flexing his steroid-abused muscles in what he clearly thought was a threatening way. Walker considered him thoughtfully. A wise man would have taken the hint and run, but not the goon.

“You’re upsetting my mistress, little man,” said the goon. “Disappear.”

Walker smiled, just a little. “Shit yourself.”

He used the Voice, which commands everyone who hears it, and the goon made a sudden low sound of distress. Quickly accompanied by other, less pleasant sounds. Black Betty pulled a face and dropped his leash. The goon turned away from Walker, slowly and carefully, and trudged miserably off to the toilets. People he passed by wished he hadn’t. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Walker can teleport without his portable Timeslip:

“What if I told you to take your job and shove it?” I said. “Would you have me killed then?”

“I am many things,” said Walker. “But not petty. I’d simply move on to my next choice.”

I had to raise an eyebrow at that. “You have someone else in mind?”

“Of course.”

I waited, but he had nothing more to say. I nodded, slowly. “I’ll have to think about this.”

“There isn’t much time,” said Walker. “I don’t have much time. But you think about it, John. I’ll see you again.”

And he vanished from his chair, gone, just like that. Didn’t even use his portable Timeslip. Trust Walker always to have another trick up his sleeve. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Hadleigh Oblivion can obliterate with only a glance:

I finally caught up with Larry Oblivion at the end of the street. He was standing in front of what had been one of the new business establishments, but was now just a smoking ruin, with broken, blackened walls surrounding a great pit in the earth. A sputtering neon sign had been driven half its length into the ground, like a Technicolor spike. A crowd of interested onlookers was carefully maintaining a discreet distance between them and the blast zone. Or possibly, between them and the heavily scowling Larry Oblivion. They were all cheerfully debating what had happened, how it had happened, why it had happened; and swapping theories on who might be next. Then they saw me approaching and went suddenly quiet. Not so much because they were impressed as because they didn’t want to miss out on anything. Everyone knew about Larry and me. The Nightside does so love to gossip. I made a point of giving Larry my most friendly smile as I joined him, to spite everyone.

“Hadleigh’s already been here,” Larry said bluntly. “I’ve been talking to people. He scared the crap out of everybody and blew this place up just by looking at it. Typical Hadleigh. At least he only killed a bunch of bad guys this time, and no innocent bystanders. That’s something.”

“Does he do that, sometimes?” I said. “Kill innocent bystanders?”

“Who knows what he does, these days.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

“Hadleigh blasted the whole building into kindling with just a glance,” said Larry. “Killed the owners and the staff, and all the customers who happened to be there. A handful of the possessed staggered out of the ruins, entirely unarmed, and back in their own bodies again. Not all of them were grateful. A few had gone in with their eyes open because they needed the money. When you’ve sold off everything you own to pay your debts, all you have left to sell is your body, one way or another. Hadleigh had nothing to say to them. It seems the Detective Inspectre is only interested in crime, not its victims.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

When John used his eye to see the imprint of Hadleigh Oblivion's past, the Hadleigh of the past not only turns around and looks right at him, but then proceeds to shut off his power from across time:

I looked back at the ruins of Turnabout Inc. and invoked my gift. I concentrated on my inner eye, my third eye, and used it to summon up ghost images from the recent Past. Important events and significant people stamp themselves on Time, for a while. I let go of now, and focused my Sight on what had happened to Turnabout Inc. so very recently. The world went misty and uncertain, then snapped back into focus as the street changed before me. The shop was still a ruin; something kept me from going back any further; but Hadleigh Oblivion was standing right before me.

He didn’t look like any of the usual ghost images I See in the Past: shimmering figures, translucent as soap bubbles, sometimes barely there at all. Hadleigh looked firm and solid and almost unnaturally real. A tall, forbidding presence, in a long leather coat so black it seemed almost a part of the night, with a great mane of long, dark hair. He stood tall and proud, arrogant in his certainty that he had a right to be there and to do whatever he felt like doing. There was a power in him. I could See it, feel it, even at such a distance. His head snapped round, and he stared right at me. His face was bone white, dominated by dark, unblinking eyes and a bright, happy smile. He could see me as clearly as I could See him, even though I was in a future that hadn’t happened for him yet.

“Hello, John,” he said, in a voice so calm and normal it was downright spooky. “Give my regards to Larry. I’ll see you soon.”

The vision broke, and the Past was gone. He’d dismissed me with casual ease, as though my gift and all its power was a thing of no consequence, next to him. And maybe he was right. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

I'm including this because it's absolutely hilarious:

Larry went for his wand and Walker opened his mouth to use the Voice; but I was already there between them.

“Can you both please put your testosterone back where it belongs and save the showdown for another day? This isn’t getting us anywhere. I’ll go with you, Walker, let you show me all these things you think I need to see; but it had better be worth it.”

“Oh, it will be,” said Walker, smiling easily at me so he didn’t need to look at Larry. “I have such sights to show you.”

I had to raise an eyebrow at that. “You’re quoting Hellraiser? You’ve watched that movie?”

“Watched it? Dear boy, I was technical advisor.”

I never know when he’s joking. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Walker can use his Voice in a manner that's less forceful than usual:

She snarled at Walker and me, and her body exploded suddenly into muscle and bulk. Hyde stood swaying and growling before us, his huge hands clutching at the air, eager to rend and tear, break bones, and feast on their marrow. He towered over us, his brute face flushed with the hatred he felt for all Mankind. Jacqueline Hyde: two souls in one body, together and separated at the same time.

“Easy,” said Walker. “Slow and easy, that’s the way. You don’t want to hurt us, Hyde. It’s Walker. You remember Walker.”

If anyone else had tried the calm and reasonable routine, Hyde would have turned him into roadkill. But Walker was using the Voice, in a calm and soothing way, rather than his usual abrupt commands. Hyde’s great head swayed slowly back and forth, deep-set eyes blinking confusedly under heavy eye-brow ridges, then he turned away suddenly and was gone, back into the shadows.

“I didn’t know you could use your Voice like that,” I said.

“Lot you don’t know about me, John,” Walker said cheerfully. “I could write a book. If I only had the time.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

The Collector has moved on to collecting people:

“I’m not going any further. I have a case, remember? And you know something about Tommy Oblivion. Tell me what it is.”

“All right,” said Walker. “It was Mark. The Collector has finally lost it. He’s moved on from collecting things to collecting people. Famous, important, or interesting people; they’re all trophies to him now. Find his current lair, wherever it is, and there you’ll find Tommy Oblivion; and all the other missing people. But be careful, John. I can’t speak for Mark’s state of mind any more. Best of luck. Talk to you again later.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Walker's personal Timeslip allows him to manipulate time:

It didn’t take me long to realise that Walker had walked me round in a circle. I was right back at the Cheyne Walk approach. Larry Oblivion was standing right where I’d left him. Some people just can’t be left to get on with things on their own. I strode down the street and hailed him by name, and he looked round, startled.

“Taylor? I thought you were going walkabout with Walker?”

“I did,” I said. “We’ve been all over the Nightside. Why are you still here?”

He looked at me oddly. “You’ve only been gone a few moments.”

Of course. Typical of Walker, to have the last word when he wasn’t even there. I hadn’t known his personal Timeslip could play tricks with Time as well as Space, but it did explain a lot. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

It can also forcibly BFR other beings:

He was standing right in front of his old friend, smiling kindly, holding the Collector’s eyes with his, when the knife he’d concealed in his left hand slammed between the Collector’s ribs. The cat robots started forward, and Walker’s other hand opened to reveal his gold pocket-watch. It snapped open, and the Timeslip inside snatched up every one of the cat robots and whisked them away, all in a moment. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Hadleigh can cause people to disappear just by looking at them, and also cause an entire street/district to disappear without a trace:

“Word’s coming in from all over the Nightside, according to these gossip sites on the computer that I just happened to be glancing at when you called. The Detective Inspectre is out and about, punishing the wicked with vim and vigour. Hadleigh’s blown up a dozen dubious establishments, made twenty-three notorious scumbags vanish simply by looking at them, and no-one can even find Blaiston Street any more. It’s gone, as though it was never there in the first place. Not a great loss there, admittedly, but ... People haven’t been this scared since the Walking Man was here last month, mowing down the bad guys and giggling while he did it. Everyone I know is at home, locked in their bathrooms, waiting for the storm to pass. And, I might add, if Hadleigh Oblivion even looks as though he’s heading in my direction, I am taking the day off. Possibly the whole year.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Hadleigh managed to restore the Lord of Thorns' power:

“Excuse me for asking,” I ventured, cautiously. “But what exactly has Walker done? What’s made you so angry? And what brought you back from the ... quiet man I met here last time?”

“That would be me,” said Hadleigh Oblivion.

We all looked round sharply, and there he was, standing in the church doorway. In his long black leather coat, so dark it seemed made from a piece of the night itself, with his bone-white face and long mane of jet-black hair, his dark, unblinking eyes and his arrogantly cheerful smile, he looked utterly black and white; because there was no room for shades of grey in his world.

The world of the Detective Inspectre. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

That rumour about Hadleigh being capable of preventing the angels from interfering? Yeah, he can do that:

Larry looked surprised for the first time. “You know Taylor?”

“I know everyone,” said Hadleigh Oblivion. “Whether they know it or not. Hello, John. I’ve been watching you for some time.”

“Okay,” I said. “That’s actually quite creepy, but moving on ... What brings you out into plain view?”

“You. And Walker.” Hadleigh paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Something important is going to be decided, very soon, something that will affect the whole Nightside. I’m here to prevent certain outside forces from interfering. On either side.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Walker and the Authorities sabotaged The Lord of Thorns, preventing him from having access to his power when he went to face Lilith:

“What’s the connection between Walker and the Lord of Thorns?”

“He sabotaged me!” said the Lord of Thorns, and his voice was flat and harsh and vicious. “To prevent me from ever using my power to overthrow his precious status quo. As long as I still slumbered in the World Beneath, I was no danger to him or the Authorities. But once you awoke me, Taylor, and I ascended into the Nightside again, everything changed.”

“Somehow I knew this would all turn out to be my fault,” I said.

“I went walking through the streets, and I saw how much had changed,” said the Lord of Thorns. “Whole place had gone to hell without me. And then Lilith arose, and all her monstrous offspring, and I went out to face her, to guard and protect you all. It should have been my finest hour. But Walker and his Authorities were fearful.”

“Of what?” said Larry.

“That I would take up my function as Overseer again and dispense judgement and punishment, as is my right and duty.”- The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

“Long and long ago, the Authorities made a deal with the Street of the Gods,” said Hadleigh. “Those jumped-up poseurs were always scared of the Lord of Thorns because he was the real deal, and they were only pretenders. So the Beings pooled their power, waited for the right opportunity, and channelled it through Walker’s Voice, to shut down the Lord of Thorns’ power, when he went head to head with Lilith. She could never have defeated him otherwise. And so he lost his confidence, and he lost his faith; and without those, he was nothing. He crawled away and ended up here: broken, confused, and no threat to anyone.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

(This also states that, had he had access to his full power, Lilith wouldn't have had the power to stop him. Considering his powerful she was, this is no small statement.)

Even the Lord of Thorns is impressed by Excalibur:

“Can I just ask you: do you know anything about the sword Excalibur?”

“I saw it once,” said the Lord of Thorns, smiling wistfully. “Golden and glorious, it was. Took my breath away. Why do you ask?” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

The Lord of Thorns no-sells Walker's voice:

He used his Voice then. The Voice that compels all who hear it and cannot be denied or disobeyed. The blunt force of its power swept through the church, pushing everything else aside, settling over us like a spiritual strait jacket.

“Be still,” said Walker. “Be calm. Listen to me. You know I have only your best interests at heart.”

It worked on Larry. It even worked on Hadleigh. They stood still, smiling at Walker with open, empty faces. Ready to do whatever he told them because, for all their unnatural status, they were still men, and Walker’s Voice had power over the living and the dead. It only partly worked on me, because I am my mother’s son; but while I was still struggling to throw it off, the Lord of Thorns laughed mockingly and threw Walker’s Voice back in his face with one sweep of his staff. The power trembling on the air shattered like glass, and Walker actually fell back a step, staring blankly at the Lord of Thorns.

“Do not seek to command me with our Creator’s Voice, little man! I am closer to Him than you will ever be! Defend yourself, functionary! Or will you claim you tried to rob us of our free will for the greater good?” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Hadleigh states that there is a future for every decision people make:

“So Walker’s really gone, then?”

“Yes.” I studied him thoughtfully. “Did you know this was going to happen?”

“Not as such. The future’s not set in stone; there are many possible futures. Which one we end up in depends on the decisions we make. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

Hadleigh heals John's silver-induced wounds, and apparently "jump-starts" him, giving him more energy than he's had:

You’re hurt, John. Allow me.”

He took a firm hold on my shoulder, and a sudden shock ran through me, like a bucket of cold water thrown right in my soul. I gasped, and the pain was gone; and I knew without having to check that all my wounds had been healed, all damage repaired. I scrambled up onto my feet, suddenly full of energy. Hadleigh chuckled briefly.

“You see, I’m not only here for the bad things in life.”

I arched my back and stretched my arms, relishing the freedom from pain and tiredness. I didn’t feel numb any more. I felt like kicking the whole damned world in the arse and making it take notice. I gave Hadleigh one of my best hard looks.

“What did you do to me? I’m not used to feeling this good. It feels ... strange.”

“Let’s just say I jump-started you. The technicalities would only upset you.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

On the edge of death, Tommy made himself "uncertain", neither real nor unreal, and proceeded to drift out of reality. In this state, he can also force others to become similarly "uncertain":

“Home ... I’ve been trying to find my way home for such a long time ... What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me, Tommy. Do you remember the Lilith War?”

“Hell, yes! There was a mob ... out of their minds, swarming all over me, trying to kill me. There was no way to escape, so ... I used my special gift and made myself existential. Neither one thing nor another, neither here nor there, living or dead. It saved me from the mob, but in that existential state I drifted out of reality, or turned sideways from it ... and became enduringly uncertain. In reality, but not of it.”

“A soft ghost,” I said.

“Yes ... I drifted through connecting dimensions, lost as any other soft ghost, set adrift from my moorings in the Nightside by what I’d done to myself. I saw seas on fire, under howling moons. I saw a dark labyrinth where the dead made candles out of the living. I saw men and women screaming in agony as they were burned alive in gigantic wicker men, under a bloody sun, at the orders of a great castle full of knights in terrible armour. Someone in that awful world opened a door into our reality, and I followed them through it, unobserved. But even though I was back in the Nightside at last, I still couldn’t change the state I was in.

“Ever since, I’ve been collecting people I knew and making them like me. Sometimes just to keep me company, sometimes to save their lives when they were in danger. I made them existential, too, made them soft ghosts like me. I was too far gone to realise what a terrible thing I was doing. It’s been a long time since I could think this clearly. I’ve been drifting back and forth for what seems like forever, reaching out to people I thought I recognised, trying to get their attention ...”

It was only then I remembered the soft ghost who’d been following Larry and me around all night, plucking at our sleeves, calling out to us. All the time we’d been looking for Tommy Oblivion, he’d been right there with us, closer than we thought. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny