It Puts the Stories on the Forum

[23rd]

Good morning forum, have some Maxwell.

 

Flirting with Death

 

Maxwell the Great! Shows used to barely get him enough for food, but now.. everything had been looking up ever since William Carter had found that book and changed his stage name. He was rich beyond his wildest dreams, worth his weight in gold, but he lived for the spectacle. Seeing the amazed and smiling faces was his life's passion, mere currency wouldn't be the reason he retired. It was after one fateful show, long before he abducted Wilson, was bound to the Throne or even met Charlie, that he would get his first indication of how powerful the Codex Umbra could really be.

 

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the show, it was pretty standard fare. Pulling a bunny out of a hat, sawing an audience member in half, and of course what everyone had really come to see, the shadow tricks. A miniature Terrorbeak skittering across the stage, a teleportation trick or two, everyone cheered. Well, almost everyone. A man in the back row who rose up just as Maxwell was taking his final bows, brandishing a pistol. He saw the gleam of the silver barrel too late, everyone did. Maxwell was shot once, next to the heart.

 

He didn't know why his first instinct was to grab the Codex Umbra and make his way back to his trailer as the shooter was dragged away, screaming obscenities and rambling about things that mortal men shouldn't try to control, but not seeing a doctor is what saved Maxwell's life and career. Slamming the book on the counter top while holding his left hand to his chest, Maxwell fervently flipped through page upon page in search of something, anything that would be able to help him. He refused to die to some crazed maniac at his own show!

 

Then, hands. Two of them, four of them, eight of them. Pointed fingers, shadowy forms. They poured out from under the pages and wrapped around Maxwell's frame. He felt an intense pressure and unearthly chill against his chest as a bullet clinked against the wooden floor of the trailer, hole in his flesh closing up neatly. There wasn't even a scar, this was incredible! As the hands retreated back into the Codex he thought about how he owed his life to the dark spirits in the book, and more importantly, what this would mean for his career. He could just imagine the newsprint headlines now. "Maxwell the Great shot! Miraculous recovery! Claims of magic healing!" That would fill the seats faster than free funnel cake! Gloved fingers ran down the front of the Codex as a wicked smile came over Maxwell's face. That was the moment Maxwell decided he would never retire from magic, he'd be using the Codex his entire life.

Edited December 16, 2013 by 23rd

[JeMiChi]

Anyways, here's one dedicated to @JeMiChi, I'll shamelessly admit that she is my favorite artist here. Credit to @BlackTurnzWhite for making the beautiful picture of Willow and Chester that plopped the idea for this story in my head. If you haven't already, you should check out both of their art threads.

 

"Down by its legs Willow saw an orange, fuzzy monster furiously chewing at the lanky legs of the giant birds, stubby red arms wrapped tight around the creature."

 

Waaaaah! I don't know what to say..! *hugs*

Thank you for doing this for me! I don't think anyone has ever called me their favorite artist - or anything like that - before. I feel honored. Thank you!

 

Also, I really like the way you described Chester in the story! ^w^

[23rd]

Waaaaah! I don't know what to say..! *hugs*

Thank you for doing this for me! I don't think anyone has ever called me their favorite artist - or anything like that - before. I feel honored. Thank you!

for 23rd.png

 

Also, I really like the way you described Chester in the story! ^w^

*hugs* You deserve all the praise. Thank you for the adorable picture!

[TRENTOMINOUS]

Good job 23rd! Keep up the good work!

 

Perhaps a story about Wilton?

[HoneyHam]

I think I know why William changed his name to Maxwell.

YOUTUBE CALLED IT OUT FOR COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT

[23rd]

Perhaps a story about Wilton?

 

Dead Man Walking

 

Somewhere in the world, a perfectly preserved human skeleton reanimated itself.

 

All he could remember that his name was Wilton. The sprawling forest in front of him looked vaguely familiar, but nothing was clear. As he began walking he noticed everything felt unnaturally light, and one look at his feet told him why. No skin, no organs.. nothing but bone. He felt like he should be more shocked at this revelation, but it felt like it made sense. Why was that? ..there had to be answers out there.

 

It only took a few minutes of wandering before he found the marks in the dirt; like footprints, but thinner. Following them eventually lead him to a small campsite hidden under the piney shroud the forest provided. Huh. Wilton explored the small site. A fire pit, hot to the touch. Whoever made this must be close-by. Wilton considered how he would introduce himself, given his appearance. It was quite unsightly.. hopefully things would unfold without too much panic. Bizarrely, there was no food to be found anywhere. Chests were full of gemstones, wood and other supplies but there was not a morsel of meat to be found. There wasn't even anything to indicate the place had food sometime before. No farms, no racks for drying meat, not even a makeshift pot to cook meals in. It was all very, very odd.

 

There was one thing, however, that Wilton couldn't identify. An upturned wooden triangle lay splayed out across a carpet. Something gave Wilton the idea to place one of the many chest's purple gemstones in the center, and when he did he immediately regretted it. Shadows came from seemingly nowhere, lifting the surreal structure into the air as thunder cracked in the distance. A series of images flashed across Wilton's mind.

 

A skeletal figure escaping from rabid dogs in the middle of the woods, visibly shaking.

 

A skeletal figure laying down stones for a fire, a camp slowly growing around it.

 

A skeletal figure building wooden beams, placing them around a purple gem and caressing the shining rock as shadows enveloped him, causing him to disappear.

 

They say if you don't remember history, it's liable to repeat itself. A wise statement, and one many people don't take seriously enough. Tampering with magics you don't know how to control can lead to many things. Unanswered questions, senseless torment, the destruction of a life.

 

Somewhere in the world, a perfectly preserved human skeleton reanimated itself.

Edited January 20, 2014 by 23rd

[HoneyHam]

dat iz very yuz

[23rd]

dat iz very yuz

how yuz is it?

[HoneyHam]

how yuz is it?

very much yuz

mebbe twooo much yuz

[23rd]

I've been wanting to get started on this for two days. @Mr. Tiddles has made a character called William J. Dannighar and made a unique and enjoyable experience that differs from any other character without being some ridiculous easy mode that allows you to breeze through the game. I could go into all about how well he added depth to the character, constructed William's abilities and handled the inventor's craftables but my praise would end up dwarfing the story I'm about to write in comparison. Out of respect and admiration for the dedication and hard work this mod no doubt required this will be my longest story thus far.

 

William vs William

Part 1 of 3, A Chase Through The Woods

 

Two men stood in the open expanse of stone, one a wielder of dark and arcane magics, the other an alchemist and inventor of the highest esteem. Maxwell had taken William by surprise far away from the latter's base of operations during an expedition for flint and gold; the Devil of this world knew far better than to allow his enemy to have home court advantage, after all. The ends of the cruel mastermind's striped coat flapped in the breeze as he spoke, boiling rage hinted at heavily in his tone. "That's enough. I don't know who you are, but I should have ended this much sooner." The wind picked up, blowing harsher as the Codex Umbra appeared in Maxwell's gloved hands. The pages began flipping on their own, and the fear of facing an unknown opponent overtook William as his pickaxe fell, clanking against the cold stone surface.

 

The book, William had to stop that book. The handle of a flintlock pistol he'd constructed poked against one of his ribs, and he knew what he had to do. Sweaty fingers wrapped around the trigger as William yanked the firearm from his coat, pointing it directly at the imposing figure in front of him. Maxwell looked up in surprise, a fearful memory flashing through his mind to give him a moment of pause. A moment was the only window William needed to get his nerve. The inventor fired and ran, bullet soaring through the red M adorning the front of the Codex and penetrating Maxwell's stomach. Back in the early days of his "Maxwell the Great" act such a thing was horrifyingly fatal, but Maxwell was not the same man he was then. The wound turned black, and with a grunt the bullet carved from flint pushed its way back out and clinked against the ground, rolling away towards the forgotten pickaxe. By then William had gotten a significant head start, and Maxwell was cursing his irrational fears as he gave chase.

 

Why couldn't that nuisance have run towards a savannah? The winding pathways and trees blocking his line of sight were making these woods a pain in the ass very, very quickly. After a lot of running, teleporting and having to listen for the soft crunching of William's footsteps at least once Maxwell was finally catching up to him. There he was, back turned and trying to decide which way to go. Easy pickings. Maxwell sprung forward, making a mad dash for his prey when a large metal fist smacked into the side of his head.

 

"ATTACK!"

 

"Have fun with that Brute." The condescending tip of his hat and the smirk on his face as William bounded back out of sight made Maxwell audibly groan in anger. Now he had to deal with this giant mechanical rabbit shaped beast, and it was only fueling his desire to see William dead at his hands. He'd appeared uninvited and had become a barreling inferno of trouble since. There was no way to get to William before the inventor made it back towards his campsite, Maxwell knew that. He also knew that he couldn't hold back anymore, he'd have to actually try with this one.

 

The Codex had miraculously restored itself, and before the giant robotic powerhouse could send another punch Maxwell was behind it, running his fingers over the pages. One elbow into the machine's backside and shadows were enveloping it, trapping it in their powerful tendrils. A panel slid open in the front of the Brute, and reaching in Maxwell found the soft fur of a rabbit. Yanking that out was like yanking the still beating heart from a titan, and once the rabbit had been removed from the metal shell encasing it the Brute collapsed into a heap of smoldering metal. One down, one to go. Maxwell tossed the rabbit over his shoulder, ignoring the squeal, thud and scampering sounds as it fled towards the nearest rabbit hole. Maybe he wouldn't kill William right away, all manner of sick and twisted ideas running through his head.

 

It didn't take much walking, William's base was close by. Staying in the shroud of trees Maxwell tugged the fur lined collar of his coat around himself, peering from behind a tree at the edge of the woods. There was William, frantically working on something just out of view behind an Alchemy Machine. Perfect, he wasn't paying attention. The Codex was snapped shut and stuffed within his coat, a blade of shadowy material being withdrawn in its place as Maxwell stepped out from behind his hiding place. He wouldn't bother saying anything this time, he was just looking forward to this being over.

 

"Finally, I'm finished! This will show that rude gentleman, he'll never expect the Nightmare Fuel." ..what? Did Maxwell hear that properly? William had gotten his hands on Nightmare Fuel, and had used it?! Infuriated, he stepped forward, preparing to strike his blade across the man's neck. Instead he saw William dropping a crow into the back of a new shell, lankier and smaller yet somehow more terrifying than the Brute he had dealt with earlier. Fear seized Maxwell for the second time that day, and he took a step back when William had finally noticed him. The shell stirred to life, joints creaking as its head raised up and beady white eyes fixated on the tall magician.

 

"DESTROY!"

Edited October 5, 2014 by 23rd

[HoneyHam]

Okay, first of all, I AM SO EXCITED FOR MOAR WILLIAM

And second of all, are you going to make Dreaming of Electric Bunnies Part 3?

[23rd]

Okay, first of all, I AM SO EXCITED FOR MOAR WILLIAM

And second of all, are you going to make Dreaming of Electric Bunnies Part 3?

First of all, YOU'D BETTER BE. Get excited from some Reaper action too. Second of all, I wasn't planning on it. I don't really have any idea for what I would have happen if I did.

 

Of course if more people wanted a Part 3 I wouldn't be able to say no, now would I?

[Rosten]

Amazing story

Can people be given artist badges for writing?

Probably not, considering you haven't been given one,

I also noticed you like using the word "lanky"

Edited December 17, 2013 by Blazingice26

[HoneyHam]

Can people be given artist badges for writing?

Probably not, considering you haven't been given one,

I also noticed you like using the word "lanky"

QUICK 23rd ADD WEIRD LITTLE DOODLES TO YOUR STORIES

[23rd]

I also noticed you like using the word "lanky"

I didn't even notice, but it makes sense. It's an extremely fun word, I like the image it gives.

 

QUICK 23rd ADD WEIRD LITTLE DOODLES TO YOUR STORIES

*can't draw worth a damn*

[Rosten]

Do you write drafts on paper before you write out the final thing on the computer? i wrote a draft to a chapter of a story once...... then promptly proceeded to forget it was in my pocket and throw that pair of pants in the washing machine.

[23rd]

Do you write drafts on paper before you write out the final thing on the computer? i wrote a draft to a chapter of a story once...... then promptly proceeded to forget it was in my pocket and throw that pair of pants in the washing machine.

I've just been winging all of these.

Edited December 17, 2013 by 23rd

[HoneyHam]

I didn't even notice, but it makes sense. It's an extremely fun word, I like the image it gives.

 

*can't draw worth a damn*

THATS FINE LET THEM BE DISPROPORTIONATE STICK FIGURES

[23rd]

William vs William

Part 2 of 3, Reaper

 

The shell the crow had been stuffed into.. the Reaper.. was nothing short of horrifying. Shadows, darker even than Maxwell's own, danced around the thin form. A humanoid crow was the best way to describe it, and even that didn't give a proper image. The elongated beak, overly thin body and permanently hunched stance made the robot look like it had been ripped from a horror novel. It shivered and jerked, every movement unnatural and unsettling. Then.. then it started running. The sound of its feet smacking into the ground sounded heavier than that of the Deerclops, and with every leap forward it took the shadows exploded in fantastic displays behind it, as though the strain of being a part of this monstrosity stressed them to the point of combustion. Maxwell couldn't get out of the way fast enough and soon sharp claws dug into his coat, pushing him down, trying to harvest him like one might a crop.

 

Grip tightened on the Dark Sword, the will to fight became the will to survive and soon Maxwell began to undergo a transformation. His hair thinned out as his bones jutted and misaligned themselves. Maxwell was beginning to resemble a hunchback more than that of a proper man, and his own hands turned to claws before William's eyes. The inventor looked in morbid curiosity as his hunter became more animal than man, grunts and groans deepening as they turned into snarls and growls. Then, with a spontaneous burst of strength, Maxwell pushed the Reaper from his body and attacked.

 

"AUTOMATIC SPACE BENDING ACTIVATED."

 

Pitch black shadows ran up the robot's sides erratically, encasing him before dispelling to show nothing there at all. William grinned in self-assurance, he knew his loyal creation would appear again at any moment. Any moment.. The grin began to falter, soon turning into a look of worry as the seconds ticked by. Maxwell was climbing to his feet, and for whatever reason the Reaper hadn't returned.

 

-

 

A ragged, emaciated body sleeps on a throne darker than the night sky itself. The Nightmare Throne, a prison as much as it is a seat of power. The man on the Throne, the real Maxwell, formerly William Carter, begins to stir from his slumber at a sound in the distance. Fingernails overgrown and covered in filth scratch at the armrests, the weak old man attempting to sit up as best he can. Barbed restrains yank him back down, head rolling pathetically to the side as his eyes squint. What was that? ..Crows? Oh no. Oh no, oh no. How could this be possible?

 

The crows were piling against each other, making a humanoid figure out of their combined mass. Once they'd all settled down they pulled away just as quickly, each crow flying in a different direction, leaving only a shadowy mass where they'd been. A twitchy metal hand emerged from the shadows, then a freakishly large beak, and soon the rest of the nightmarish Reaper emerged in full view, never breaking its stride as it began running towards the Throne.

 

"I RETURN."

 

Pleading with a robot was futile, and Maxwell knew that. He barely had the energy to speak, anyways. That's why he didn't resist when the sharp claw ripped through his chest, digging into him with such force that it pressed him against the back of the chair. Maxwell's physical body had been long past its prime, there was no blood or flesh, just ash. Handfuls of ash, being ripped away and strewn across the floor as the Reaper grabbed more and more in its claws. Maxwell was gone, all that was left was an empty throne. Alas, the Throne can not remain empty. They would not allow it. The Reaper's own shadows betrayed it, and it was pulled towards the Throne with no ability to resist. They needed someone to lead their world, but they didn't think it through. They didn't know the limitations of the Reaper, what made the Reaper able to do the amazing things it had done. The shell deactivated when it hit the Throne, the crow within having died from its shadows being tampered with.

 

-

 

It looked like William was forced to fend for himself. He didn't like the prospect, but he had no choice in the matter. Grabbing one of the many wrenches he'd built during his time here, he prepared to strike and ran towards the hunchback freak Maxwell had become. There was no resistance. In fact, Maxwell hadn't even moved since the Reaper disappeared. Strange.. but William wasn't complaining. He kicked the lying figure in front of him once, scoffing and making his way back towards his campsite. Just then, the corpse stirred and groaned. William froze where he was, slowly turning to look over his shoulder at what was going on.

 

The corpse had gotten up, and pieces of flesh began to fall away from the carcass. The wet splats they made when they hit the ground made William sick to his stomach, but not nearly as sick as what was replacing them. A black, fleshy mass was pushing out of the holes in Maxwell's body, tendrils unraveling and hitting the ground. As more and more of the carcass fell away it came down to a kneeling position, a black and gooey snake of a creature worming its way out. The thing.. it was massive, William had never seen anything like it. It struck a primal fear in him he didn't know he'd had, like meeting your species' natural predator for the first (and quite possibly last) time. Once the carcass had been fully shed the black creature stretched out in front of him. The tail, thick and long, oozed droplets of Nightmare Fuel as it slithered its way towards him. The torso was thick and stocky, like that of a tree trunk, with matted gray fur just dark enough that William had to strain to see it covering the monster, the hairs were sharp enough that they cut into the ground when dragged across the dirt. The head was the most terrifying part of all, with a shape unlike any other creature, three piercing indigo eyes and teeth sharper than a hound's. Scales in a similar gray covered the rest of its head, disappearing somewhere in its soaked, fur covered body. From the waist up it must have been twelve feet tall, maybe more.

 

The ground was shaking.

 

William was almost too paralyzed to move, but he knew he had one option left. He wanted to save it as a last resort, to never need to use it, but the time had clearly come. He pulled a small glass bottle from his sleeve, the contents murky and dark. When he had discovered the Nightmare Fuel before coming to this place he'd mixed it together with a helping of ash, just in case he would need to consume it. The stuff was powerful, but it came at a huge cost. He closed his eyes and drank, it was the most bitter thing he'd ever consumed. When he opened his eyes again it was impossible to see, and his monocle felt heavy. Suddenly he saw himself, standing in the middle of his camp, and he was hideous. The black goop was leaking out of his eyes, blinding him and filling the space between the glass of his monocle and eye. Despite this, he suddenly felt stronger, more durable. Then the image of him got closer, and he realized why. He wasn't seeing out of his own eyes, he was seeing out of the monster's.

Edited October 5, 2014 by 23rd

[Rosten]

Continue this story please good sir, and I will write a proper reply when

Im not trying to type on this confounded phone.

[23rd]

Continue this story please good sir, and I will write a proper reply when

Im not trying to type on this confounded phone.

Sleep tonight, plans tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to take the proper time to think out just how I want to end all this, then give everyone a Part 3 worth the wait.

[TRENTOMINOUS]

Sir, I confess I may have a copy of all of the stories you have wrote.

[23rd]

William vs William

Part 3 of 3, One of Them

 

The harder the ground shook the less it seemed like the nightmarish thing in front of him was causing it. This was a full on earthquake! William's view shifted rapidly from the monster, to a crow flying overhead, to a bunny peeking out at him from a hole it'd taken refuge in. It took less time than he expected to get used to syncing up his movements and taking off in a full sprint with this strange new ability, he supposed life or death situations had a way of making the mind more potent.

 

Soon he was in a swamp, the shaking seemed less intense in this marsh of putrid evil. He was seeing himself from the view of a Merm peeking out from the attic of a ruined house, curiously observing the spectacle before him. The monster, whatever it was, was in hot pursuit the entire time. Bits of fleshy tail got caught in the fissures of the ground and ripped apart, chunks turning to a gaseous substance in the shadows cast by the setting sun and rushing to solidify back in their place on his pursuer's body. Physical damage didn't slow it down, no obstacle broke its stride. William thought for sure he had met his end.

 

-

 

They realized the mistake too late, with a hollow shell on the Throne there was nobody to keep the balance of the world. Things were beginning to fall apart left and right. A pillar smashed into the phonograph to the side of the Throne, the ragtime music that usually played from it distorting and dying out. The stones surrounding the Throne were coming undone, a black void underneath it all threatening to consume everything.

 

Then the impossible happened.

 

One of Them broke off from the pack, possessing the inactive Reaper's shell.

 

They should have been a single conscious, everything that happened was Their unanimous decision, but one of Them had grown to care about the world Maxwell had created, and in the world's dying moments it realized that it wanted to save the world They had, no matter the cost. The shackles holding the robot to the Throne broke apart, shadows spastically bursting around the Reaper in an attempt to match the power it was exuding from every bolt and tightly woven reed that held it together.

 

"AUTOMATIC SPACE BENDING ACTIVATED."

 

-

 

The next pair of eyes William saw out of gave him a moment of pause, suddenly realizing that his beloved Reaper had appeared behind him. But.. if he was looking from the crow's point of view, he shouldn't be seeing directly out of the eye sockets. There should at least have been a translucent film filtering the sight. How come he was seeing directly from the robot's point of view?

 

The things he saw next were amazing, things that shouldn't have been possible by the limitations of his creation. The monster that had been chasing him throughout the crumbling world was reeling back, screaming out in a language that had died long before the birth of the Universe. The creature couldn't even keep a permanent form in its newly directed rage, scales morphing into feathers and tail changing between that of a slug's and a snake's. Somehow William knew it was screaming accusations of betrayal, though he couldn't begin to guess how he would know that. The Reaper spoke back calmly in a robotic tone the voice box should not have been able to convey, again in a language no mortal being could decipher.

 

The creature leaped into the air, skeletal wings bursting forth from its back as it tried to consume the Reaper in front of it. One metal hand raised to catch it, and once the two beings collided William went completely blind. He was still seeing out of the eyes of the things around him, but the darkness had become so absolute and impenetrable that not even the most vile of the swamp's creatures could see anything within it. It felt like a millennium until William heard the sound of a massive body collapsing into the marsh, a soft fizzling following it. Suddenly his head was clear again, and he was seeing out of his own eyes! The sunlight broke the darkness, purple and gray flecks of ground being revealed. The creature was gone, and the Reaper knelt by the swaying reeds, shoulders heaving. William rushed towards it once he could move his feet again, ducking down to meet the robot's gaze. "What.. what are you?" He was met with a steely gaze before it spoke again in that steady, clear voice that shouldn't have been possible.

 

"I was one of the gods that controlled Maxwell. Long before you got here he had created this world for us, and without him it was coming apart at the seams. My brethren had wanted to let it die, to wait eons for another to come and begin anew, but the life and beauty I had witnessed from the magician's creations couldn't disappear.. I couldn't let it. My brethren will come for you William, they will try to destroy you and shatter what keeps this world alive. Do not let them."

 

It was then that William realized the Reaper was clutching a purple gem in its left claw. Before his eyes the shadows dancing along the metal drew themselves towards the crystal, more and more the dark essence poured in until William was left with a deactivated shell and a gemstone shining brighter than anything he had ever seen before. It was what kept the world alive. With a shaky hand, the intrepid inventor and newly appointed guardian of the world's heart reached out to grab the gemstone.

 

Inside the Reaper's shell he heard a crow chirp.

Edited March 27, 2014 by 23rd

[HoneyHam]

ARMAGURD HUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUH DRAMAZ AND AWZUMNEZ IT WAZ BURTIFUL

But in all honesty, that was amazing.

I DEMAND MOAR

[the truthseeker]

ARMAGURD HUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUH DRAMAZ AND AWZUMNEZ IT WAZ BURTIFUL

But in all honesty, that was amazing.

I DEMAND MOAR

 

What TMHH said (but in better English )