#Sam McSams
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tehjleck · 2 years ago
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Bigby’s National Thumb-Wrestling Championship (John J Straub III, from the “Dragonmirth” section of Dragon 154, February 1990) – This absolutely could be a canonical thing in my campaign
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artists-guild-of-exandria · 2 years ago
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Another for the @ExandriaArtists Sam Riegel Ad Cinematic Universe. Bringing you Vince McSam and the fantastic Finger Ladies of Wrestling.
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From Twitter:
User - @/CraftedChaos42 Artwork Link - https://twitter.com/CraftedChaos42/status/1642183602413899782
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grayintogreen · 2 years ago
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Not sure if you're stil doing it, but for the Critical role ask game, I have to ask: sorcerer: what is your favorite sam commercial skit
ALWAYS!!
I have special place in my heart for the Nordverse but my favorite is the Vince McSam bit because I’m a simple girl and calling Matt by every name but Matt makes me laugh so hard.
Special runner up goes to the Dragonlance Bass bit but that’s less Sam and more Taliesin being hilariously indignant about not being Dragonlance Henrikson.
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talulaskye · 5 years ago
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Artventure Noir will be my favorite series from Internet Remix it was so good
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tehjleck · 2 years ago
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Sam (Vince McSam voice): "I knew you guys couldn't live without me! Well, here we are for World Wizard Entertainment. The rules have been stated and we're gonna jump right in - next up is..."
Welcome to the WWE: World Wizard Entertainment
(Somebody get Vince McSam on the phone.)
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Because I am a being of chaos and a chronic waster of time, I have put together a hopefully fun bracket of wizard match-ups! And let's be honest: my entire brand is putting wizards in situations.
For round one, I will be staggering polls throughout the day starting on Sunday, February 19th at 8am PST. Each round will run for a day, and the next round will commence once the final poll of the previous round has finished, at which point I will also post an updated bracket.
You can find all polls on my blog under the tag #world wizard entertainment.
A few notes:
These are wizards, and only wizards, hence why Gilmore is absent. Had I included him, it felt like a slippery slope to having to include a lot of other characters, and I simply did not want to deal.
There are some wizards absent. I do not take criticism on who was left out.
But on that note:
Vecna is absent for being first and foremost a demigod.
Raishan is absent for being first and foremost an ancient fucking dragon.
Vespin Chloras was included despite being a fiend during his time on screen because he is generally known as the most infamous wizard in history, and because I think it's funny.
Jenna Iresor was also included despite never making an on-screen appearance because she is the funniest member of the Cerberus Assembly, and I love her.
Lacrytia Hollow was, to my greatest regret, forgotten—I had decided to add her but failed to notice that I hadn't done so until far too late. But there are some great girlbosses on here already, so we move forward.
Also, on the topic of titles, I did include all current or most recent titles. You will notice that those who are alive but have vacated their positions, willingly or otherwise, are noted as "former."
Any wizards who were killed in the line of duty retain their titles. Lady Briarwood, Madam Archmage DeRogna—I'm not sure what you were working in duty to, but we salute you.
All first round match-ups are as follows; I'll add links to them as I am able, but I will be out or playing my own D&D wizard for most of Sunday. (Tumblr has also tried to eat this post multiple times, so I may discover that the editor refuses to allow me to edit it once it is posted, in which case, rip in pieces, and please check the tag linked above.)
Match 1: Architect Arcane Laerryn Coramar-Seelie vs Speaker of the Fourth Micah Cormorant Match 2: Eadwulf Grieve vs Former Archmage of Civil Influence Trent Ikithon Match 3: Keeper of Scrolls Patia Por'co vs Realmseer Eskil Ryndarien Match 4: Doctor Anna Ripley vs Archmage of Industry Jenna Iresor Match 5: Former Shadowhand Essek Thelyss vs Vera of the Squalleater Match 6: Archmage of Antiquities Vess DeRogna vs Eldamir the Wise Match 7: Arcanist Allura Vysoren vs Loras of the Weaver's Mask Match 8: Archmage of Civil Influence Astrid Becke vs Lythir VaSuun Match 9: Caleb Widogast vs Tuldus of the Ruby Vanguard Match 10: Vespin Chloras vs Halas Lutagran Match 11: Lady Delilah Briarwood vs Lyra of the Slayer's Take Match 12: Martinet Ludinus Da'leth vs Archmage of Cultivation Oremid Hass Match 13: Veth Brenatto vs Archmage of Dysology Doolan Tversky Match 14: Pumat Sol vs Gus of the Green Seekers Match 15: Yussa Errenis vs Archmage of Diplomatic Union Athesias Uludan Match 16: Planerider Ryn vs Lilith Daturai
If you care to see the actual rankings, or if you have no fucking clue who someone is and would like a quick link to their wiki page, I'll include them all below a cut.
May the... best?—smartest? most amoral?—wizard win.
Highly Official Wizard Rankings*:
Architect Arcane Laerryn Coramar-Seelie
Caleb Widogast
Former Shadowhand Essek Thelyss
Veth Brenatto
Keeper of Scrolls Patia Por’co
Lady Delilah Briarwood
Arcanist Allura Vysoren
Yussa Errenis
Planerider Ryn
Archmage of Civil Influence Astrid Becke
Martinet Ludinus Da’leth
Doctor Anna Ripley
Pumat Sol
Archmage of Antiquities Vess DeRogna
Vespin Chloras
Eadwulf Grieve
Former Archmage of Civil Influence Trent Ikithon
Halas Lutagran
Gus of the Green Seekers
Eldamir the Wise
Archmage of Industry Jenna Iresor
Lythir VaSuun
Archmage of Cultivation Oremid Hass
Lilith Daturai
Loras of the Weaver’s Mask
Archmage of Diplomatic Union Athesias Uludan
Lyra of the Slayer’s Take
Realmseer Eskil Ryndarien
Vera of the Squalleater
Archmage of Dysology Doolan Tversky
Speaker of the Fourth Micah Cormorant
Tuldus of the Ruby Vanguard
*According to me, tumblr user essektheylyss. You can make your own official wizard rankings if you want. I'm not your mom.
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bryancroidragon · 6 years ago
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Dance at Club Lavender
Alright, it is here. It doesn’t fit with the canon but I was writing this before tonight’s stream so I have a justification. The characters featured in this that are of my creation can be used in Artventure, Leon was created by @missvulpix212 and his name has become canon as of tonight’s stream as everyone who has been present for that knows. I’m not going to lie, this story sucks. I keep forgetting that Maggie is the police chief. Is she? I can’t remember if she is or not. Thank you to the people at @internetremix for giving me something else to write while I write stories that are not Noir inspired. Also on one minor note here, I’m definitely going to need to figure out a way to reconcile this with what is now canon. That seems difficult to me. Also another minor note, the posthumous character of Charles was not actually insane, that is just Edwin’s opinion of him.
District Attorney Richard Capp sat opposite of both Detective Sam McSams and Officer Maggie O’Hera in his office. A man of sixty-five years with a white mustache, Capp wore round eyeglasses, kept his hair slicked back and had a cigarette holder with him at all times. He did not look happy with either of them.
“Neither of you had a warrant for Mr. Carthach’s arrest.” Said Capp, his voice a deep baritone.
“He shot me in the shoulder!” protested Sam.
“You and Officer O’Hera attacked a guest of his, one Lawrence McGee, I am told. It seems that you are both in the wrong… As a candidate for mayor I cannot allow arrests to be made without a warrant, thus have I let him go.”
“McGee was a murderer!” exclaimed Maggie. She could not believe what she was hearing. “Edwin Carthach was harboring him in his house!”
Capp shook his head. He took his cigarettes holder from his mouth and tapped the cigarette’s ash into the ashtray on his desk. “And so you killed Mr. Carthach’s guest? Officer O’Hera, no matter how many murderers you send to Beelzebub it will never bring your partner back… Perhaps if you were fully competent he’d still be alive.”
Maggie clenched her fists and glared at Capp. Her reaction only caused Capp to smile.
Standing outside the office, Edwin Carthach listened and shook his head. Capp was such an asshole. The man might have gotten him out of jail but that didn’t mean Edwin had to like the old bastard.  
Edwin had served in the war and an old war buddy of his was now a criminal. Edwin was an associate of that criminal and that criminal had killed Maggie’s partner. How often had he heard that story? Ten times probably. Edwin didn’t really like hearing it but the criminal had saved his life during the war. On the other hand the man was on the opposite side of the law and being an associate of a gangster was not a good thing. How long until he became targeted by a rival? Would they target his wife?
Upon Maggie’s exit from Capp’s office, Edwin quickly whispered in her ear “You’ll find him at Club Lavender.” And with that Edwin made his own exit, heading for the door only for Maggie to run after him.
“Wait a minute, who are you talking about?”
“The gangster who killed your partner. I wish I could give you a bit more information but he’s got a lethal temper and his right-hand man, to quote others, is meaner than diarrhea.”
Instantly Maggie knew whom Edwin meant. The right-hand man was non-other than Charles “Beret” Cliff, formerly a freelance hit man who had been involved in a massacre a few cities over. So he was working for someone was he? That gave Maggie some idea of who to look for.
Maggie made her way to Club Lavender immediately. It was the only place in Internet City that was the color lavender, hence the name. Even the neon was lavender colored. The founder of the club had been a gangster known as Hackman and he had founded it back during the days of the war. Hackman had been missing for weeks, some said he had left town others said he had been murdered. Maggie didn’t know who now owned the place and upon arrival she made an inquiry to someone who worked there.
Club Lavender did not open until after sunset, that was how it had always been. At this time it was just practice for the dancing girls, dance sing, the piano player would play his piano, if the owner would be in this early was anyone’s guess. It was the piano player that Maggie asked. He was a tall, thin black man by name of Henderson. His answer was: “Vincenzo Nitto.” 
Vincenzo Nitto? That was the gangster that was known as “the Cleaver.” Vincenzo “the Cleaver” Nitto owned the Club Lavender? From one gangster to another… Maggie was finding the belief that Hackman had been murdered very likely. Had the Cleaver been the one to kill her partner? Hackman was unlikely, as Edwin had said she’d find her partner’s killer at the Club Lavender and with Hackman having been missing for weeks he was out of the question.
But what if it was not the Cleaver? All Edwin had said was that Maggie would find her partner’s killer at the Club Lavender. Suppose it was someone who frequented the place. If the killer’s right hand was “Beret” Cliff then what if it was an allied gang leader to the Cleaver and not the Cleaver himself?
How was Maggie supposed to know? She would have to come back later when the Club Lavender was full of people.
Returning to her work, one thing kept going through her mind that day: the night her partner died. The two had decided to take in a movie: “Oliver Twist.” When it was all over, the two went their separate ways but it had not been long until after Maggie’s partner had turned a corner that she heard four gunshots. Maggie ran to the around the corner and found her partner with three bullet wounds in his chest and one in his neck, he was lying beneath a street lamp and his blue cap was lying not far from his head. The killer was gone but her partner… He had not been gone in the metaphorical sense, he still lived but not for long. Maggie fell to her knees and cradled her partner in her arms. He opened his mouth to speak and then life left his body.
Maggie never did find the killer but now with Edwin’s clue maybe she would. “You’ll find him at club Lavender” he had said. He had also stated that the right hand of the guy was “Beret” Cliff so she if she found Beret then she would find the gangster who killed her partner.
Going undercover was what she would have to do and as much as she hated to do it, Maggie would have to wear that dress again.
When night came, Maggie put on that sexy dress in addition to a black wig. She could not risk herself being recognized. After that she drove on down to the Club Lavender.
Entering the club, she listened to the jazz music and the chatter of the patrons. Her eyes darting back and forth, looking for “Beret” Cliff she felt a hand fall upon her shoulder and then heard a familiar voice whisper into her ear: “Wearing the sexy dress again I see. Love the wig, toots.”
It was Sam.
 Maggie tensed and whispered to him: “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you and Carthach getting chummy. I followed him and asked him what you two had been talking about.”
Maggie turned to look at Sam. He was wearing glasses. “Those aren’t Edwin Carthach’s glasses are they?”
“No, no, of course not!”
They were. Maggie knew that Sam had taken Edwin’s glasses, taken them right off his face. His glasses had a particular design to them in that the lenses were shaped like the Double Crown of Egypt. It was an unfortunate part of a will that dictated the owner of the estate had to wear the glasses that Edwin’s grandfather Charles Carthach had thought up. Edwin had been perfectly happy with his round glasses but was thankful that he, his father and grandfather were all nearsighted. Charles Carthach had been a very strange man, right down to his will stating being that he be buried upside down beneath the police station in a baseball bat shaped coffin. His son Irving’s will dictated that he should be cremated and his ashes placed in the base of a statue in the family manor. The night Irving died, Maggie had been there to investigate possible foul play and one of the first questions she had asked Edwin was: “Your dad’s will doesn’t say he has to be buried beneath the station in a bat shaped coffin does it?”
To say that no one noticed someone who was not Edwin Carthach wearing the Carthach family glasses would be untrue. For some, Edwin Carthach was just a name. To one person in the club however, it was the name of an old war buddy but there was someone at Club Lavender who only knew Edwin Carthach as a name but knew the face of Sam McSams.
The band started up a slow song and a singer started singing. There was something terribly familiar about her voice but Maggie and Sam did not have the time to see who it was, to blend in they joined the dancing couples.
Maggie and her partner had once danced together like that. Her heart had been all a flutter when she had danced with him she had been as giddy as a schoolgirl. In fact, she had been a schoolgirl. Those were the days before she had become a cop. Those had been happier days. Those days were long gone and Maggie never knew if she would ever know those days again.
Her eyes searching the crowd, Maggie finally spied “Beret” Cliff sitting with a man that everyone had either heard of or seen: Vincenzo “The Cleaver” Nitto.
Vincenzo “The Cleaver” Nitto was in his mid to late twenties. He was a man of average height with enlarged hands and cheekbones and an enlarged nose. He was wearing a tuxedo like many another male patron of the Club Lavender except he wasn’t just any patron. He was the owner.
 Maggie’s eyes and the Cleaver’s eyes met and immediately their eyes narrowed. The former now knew that the Cleaver had killed her partner and the latter had seen straight through the flimsy disguise of a black wig. The Cleaver’s eyes had always been narrowed having recognized Sam as wearing his old war buddy’s glasses but upon recognizing Maggie his eyes narrowed even more.
Maggie and her partner had been investigating a rising hood. He kept getting higher and higher in the underworld’s hierarchy every month it seemed. A massacre in a garage had been attributed to him, the rubbing out of William Karloff had also been attributed to him and this hood was the person they now knew as the Cleaver, a criminal who had a reputation for carrying out murders himself.
There was one feeling in Maggie’s eyes upon seeing the man who had killed her partner. There was a number of ways of describing it: hate, hatred, loathing, detestation, dislike, distaste, abhorrence, execration, aversion, hostility, enmity, animosity, antipathy, revulsion, disgust, contempt and odium. Whichever word one chose that was the feeling that Maggie felt upon seeing the Cleaver and knowing that he had killed her partner.
The Cleaver pointed at Maggie and Sam while whispering to Beret. The hate in Maggie’s eyes then turned to something else. Call it fear, call it terror, call it fright, call it fearfulness, call it horror, call it alarm, call it panic, call it agitation, call it trepidation, call it dread, call it consternation, call it dismay, call is distress, anxiety, worry, angst, unease, uneasiness, apprehension, nervousness, nerves, perturbation or even foreboding but that was what had replaced the hate in Maggie’s eyes. She and Sam were two and no doubt the Cleaver had many henchmen here in Club Lavender.
“It’s the Cleaver.” Whispered Sam. 
“I know and he recognizes me!” Returned Maggie.
“I can summon the sax gremlins.”
“Times New Roman was one, here we are surrounded. We need to try and avoid a bloodbath for them.”
A tap on Maggie’s shoulder then caused the dancing between her and Sam to end. It was Henderson. “Mr. Nitto would like to see you.” He then looked at Sam and said: “You too.” 
The office of Vincenzo Nitto was, like the rest of the club, lavender colored. On his desk was a picture of him and his infantry during the war. Edwin could be seen, lacking the family glasses but he was unmistakable. His head brought a crescent moon to mind and the only people who had heads that brought crescent moon’s to mind was his family. The Cleaver himself both sat behind his lavender colored desk on a lavender colored chair with his on Maggie. Several henchmen were in the room with him with Beret standing at the Cleaver’s right. Sam and Maggie were both standing before the desk.
“Officer O’Hera…” said the Cleaver in his volcanic tirade, smoked-burnished voice. “I’ve been expecting you for a while. What took you? Had I known you were coming I would have got a party started in your honor…”
“You killed Leon!” exclaimed Maggie pulling a gun and pointing it at Maggie. Immediately, Beret and the henchmen pulled out their own guns and pointed it at Maggie.
The Cleaver could only laugh. “Go ahead, pull the trigger. You shoot me, they shoot you and your little avenging for your dead partner ends up being for nothing.” He then looked at Sam. “Now who the hell are you?”
“He’s Sam McSams!” exclaimed a voice with a Boston accent. Sam and Maggie both turned to see a skeleton in the doorway. It was none other than Times New Roman.
“Oh, him.” The Cleaver lit a cigarette and began to smoke it. “I heard that Edwin shot you in the shoulder. I’d say I wished you had been shot in the heart or the head but even during the war Edwin was never really much of one for killing. He was a bit reluctant to be an officer in the trenches. He always tried to avoid battle and never carried his sidearm unless he had to and never kept it loaded. Guess becoming involved with me has made him better.”
Maggie put her gun away and took a breath before speaking again. “If I can’t kill you I will take you to justice and I will see you hang.”
The Cleaver smiled as he blew some smoke. “Keep telling yourself that, O’Hera. I’ve got some people who would prevent me from ever ending up in such a situation. Do you think you coppers are perfect? Do you think anyone on the side of the law is perfect? Here are the facts, I’ve got police, I’ve got judges, attorneys, I am in more of a position of power than you are right now. So here is some advice, go chase after someone else, you’ll either end up dead or with me free. Now either walk away or die.” He then looked at Sam and said: “And for God’s sake get Edwin’s glasses back to him or I’ll return them to him myself after I’ve had you fitted for a Chicago overcoat.”
Leave Maggie did but silently did she swear. She swore she would see the Cleaver hang one day. She did not care how many times it took. She would see the rope around the Cleaver’s neck and would be there when he either died by a broken neck or by suffocating.
Once more at Carthach Manor, Maggie and Sam with the Sax Gremlin sat opposite of Edwin, looking at his glasses, in his office. Maggie was the first to speak and her words were: “Thank you for telling me who it was even if you didn’t tell me the name.”
“Always knew you’d figure it out.” Edwin got out of his chair and opened the office window. He then hurled the glasses out the window. “Good riddance to my certifiable grandfather’s rubbish, I am changing my family’s name back to what it originally was, I am sending in the order for my grandfather’s body to be reburied here, I am doing so much to wipe his insanity from everything here.” He then turned and said to Sam: “Sorry about the shoulder.”
“Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.” Sam cracked a smile.
Edwin then looked at the Saxophone Gremlin. “I apologize for kicking you.” The Saxophone Gremlin responded but because Edwin did not understand what she said he was left standing there with a confused look on his face before saying: “And the same to you.”
“Do you know the names of anyone aligned with the law that the Cleaver has on his payroll?” asked Maggie.
“Just one: Richard Capp.”
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deathtriangles · 3 years ago
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sam riegel doing a vince mcmahon parody on the latest critical role has me in TEARS
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internetremix · 5 years ago
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In the season final of ArtVenture Noir, I think someone said that Maggie could deadlift Sams. After a small drawing I did a few months back, I wanted to redraw Maggie carrying Sams with KitKat as well. 
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I’m so glad people remember that these two can deadlift each other. Also it’s just a delight to see fanart of this couple aaaa I love! -Kristen
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adrianainthesnow · 6 years ago
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An Anchor Through the Haze-An Artventure Noir Fanfiction
An Anchor Through the Haze- An Artventure Noir Fanfiction
Ships: Maggie O’hera/Sams McSams
Characters: Maggie O’hera, Sams McSams, Kit Kat
Trigger Warning: Nonconsensual Drug Use, A Little Blood and Violence, Allusions to Off Screen Deaths, Cursing (but no more than what’s usually used in the program.)
For my followers who don’t know what Artventure Noir is, it is a show put on by Internet Remix (a collaborative channel of artists, actors, singers, and altogether talented people and one of exactly two channels I have my notifications on for, on Youtube) in which they draw scenes and narrate them with audience suggestions. One day they accidently improved their way into a great story and a great ship. It’s absolutely beautiful. That’s what this is about.
Basically, after seeing the arc about Kit Kat being kidnapped and how Sams reacted to that, I wondered what he’d do if Maggie was kidnapped. Then I completely avoided directly describing what he would do and focused on Maggie’s perspective because I love her. This is weird angsty, shippy, fluff and I don’t know where it came from or what I’m doing with my life. Why do I ship some who’s named Sams Mcsams so hard with someone?
           Maggie was pretty sure the only thing keeping her awake was pure stubbornness. Well, that, and maybe a healthy dose of adrenaline. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, couldn’t even recall exactly what had happened to get her in this mess. Everything right now was just a confusing blur, but why she was here didn’t really matter at the moment. There was too much to think about and a horrifying lack of brain power to do so. She wasn’t sure of the who or why, but someone had kidnapped her, and they’d unfortunately been smart about it.
           They’d kept her drugged up constantly and with medical grade stuff too if she wasn’t mistaken. Her brief moments of consciousness, when they came, were foggy and confusing and usually ended with another needle in her arm. But despite that, she had managed to store a couple of thoughts in her brain, including a few about the one weak spot in their operation. Ironically, it was drugging her. Or more accurately, who they had drugging her.
           He wasn’t one of them, clearly. No, he was a nervous twitching thing who was obviously kept around for things other than muscles and his ability to shoot a gun. And he was stupid.
           He was stupid, because, every time he took the needle out of her arm, he’d turn his back on her to gather up his supplies and, if Maggie had say, managed to wear down the rope restraint on one of her arms with the surprisingly sharp edge of her bracelet till it snapped, she could easily, even in her current state, wallop him over the head with the chair one of her arms was still tied too, especially in that small window where the last dose was starting to wear off and the next dose hadn’t hit yet.
           Which is exactly how Maggie ended up standing over the little weaselly man, unsure if he was dead or not from her beating him over the head till he stopped moving, and not much caring. She dug through his medical bag and was happy to find a scalpel which she used to saw off the rope that still kept one of her arms tied to the now bloodied chair. She taped the scalpel to her ankle with some medical tape and took a few of the needles, stashing them in her pockets. She broke off the leg of the chair for a better long-range weapon.
           Her head was already starting to swim, despite her adrenaline. She had to work fast.
           That thought had just flickered across her brain when she heard footsteps outside the door. “Fuck,” she whispered as the door started to swing open. She jumped toward the door swinging her makeshift weapon, aiming toward where the person’s head should be. However, she was starting to get dizzier and tripped, the chair leg slamming into the person’s stomach instead.
           There was an oomph, as the air was knocked out of the man, brining him to his knees. Maggie froze.
           “Hey, Doll Face,” he croaked from his position on the floor. “You planning to try out for the Mets with that thing?” despite his breathlessness, his tone was just as annoyingly blasé as ever.
           “Sams?” she asked, relief crashing into her. She let the chair leg slip from her fingers.
           He grunted, getting to his feet. “I see you’re already partway through your escape, care for some assistance?” The problem, she was quickly realizing was relief isn’t what her body needed right now. She needed the panic. Without panic, she was…
           The world started spinning worse and she felt like she was going to fall down. She stumbled toward Sams. “Sams,” she said, her knees giving out.
           “Maggie, what’s wrong?” He caught her of course. She felt one of his arms tightly cinch around her waist while his opposite hand reached up to tilt her head up. In answer, she raised her arm a bit, feeling like she was pulling it through mud. His eyes landed on the needle marks on her arms, already bruising. “Shit,” he said. “What did they give you? Maggie!” He tapped her face. Oh, she’d closed her eyes. When did that happen?
           She shook herself. Nope, this wasn’t happening. She had to wake up right now. She pushed a bit away from him. “I don’t know.” She wobbled a bit but didn’t fall. “Whatever it is, it’s there on that table.” She gestured to where the needles and empty bottle were. He left her for a moment to investigate what was there. He gave a relieved sigh after a moment. “It’s nothing all that bad,” he said. “Can be a bit addictive, but it’s not gonna hurt you with how little you’ve had of it, assuming this is the dose they’ve been giving you. You’ll just have to sleep it off once we get out of here and then you’ll be fine.”
           “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about me getting addicted.” she said. She was shaking a bit and would swear up and down it was only because of the physical effects of the drugs. He looked over at her, concern etched into his face. “I don’t like this,” she admitted, quiet. He pocketed the empty bottle the drugs had been in and then was at her side.
           “Here, I’ll carry you,” he said.
           “No, I’m fine,” she insisted even though she could feel the ground shifting beneath her feet. He considered her with suspicious eyes, but gave in.
           “Keep close to me,” he said. She nodded. “Oh, and take this back.” He pushed the chair leg she’d dropped earlier into her hands. “You’re pretty good with it.”
           “Sorry.”
           He shrugged. “’Had worse.” She was well aware, but still.
           They left the room as quietly as possible and she was really glad he was here because she wouldn’t be able to hear any enemies approach with how loud the blood was rushing in her ears. She did her best keeping up with him, despite the fact that she felt like she was falling over every time she picked up her foot, but eventually she stumbled one to many times and he turned around, quickly scooping her up into a fireman’s hold before she could protest.
           “Fucker,” she whispered into his back, but she went limp, unable to fight him about it right now. She was a bit relieved to be honest. The dose she’d gotten a couple of minutes ago was really starting to affect her. He patted her leg condescendingly and she gave him a light punch to the back.
           They, surprisingly, didn’t run into anyone on their way out and, if Maggie could focus for more than a few seconds, she may have contemplated why that was. For, now, she decided to let it go, instead focusing on Sams steady gait and the feeling of his shoulders moving as he breathed. It didn’t seem like her weight affected him at all. He carried her around like she was nothing. She was almost glad her mind was too muddied to focus on that fact. That was always a path that led straight into trouble.
           Eventually, when she heard him open a door, she felt a chill breeze brush past her. They were out of wherever they’d been. His gait picked up, probably not comfortable being out in the open where they were more exposed, and it was harder to hear potential enemies moving around. But soon enough he slowed, and she saw the hood of his car underneath her.
           She heard the car door open and then she was swung off his shoulder and set in the passenger seat. He buckled her in before closing the door. The couple of seconds it took him to round the car and open the driver’s side door felt like an eternity. Even though she knew everything was fine, her stomach twisted. She felt alone and helpless and trapped, even if it was only by a seatbelt. She tried to keep her breathing steady, but it was hard. As far as she was concerned the car could be drifting in the void, the world outside was so dark and everything was shimmering and waving in front of her eyes. But, then the door opened, and the world started to exist again while Sams strapped himself in and started the car.
           “You alright over there?” he asked her.
           “Yeah,” she said, not really meaning it. He reached a hand over to pat her leg. She grabbed it and squeezed. He didn’t take it back, even though it took him some awkward maneuvering to get the car going.
           He spoke to her the entire car ride and she spoke back, but for the life of her she couldn’t recall what either of them said from one moment to the next. The streetlights seemed much brighter than usual, even when she closed her eyes.
           Finally, they stopped and when she opened her eyes, they were on a very familiar street. He’d taken her to his apartment which sat above his office. He probably should have taken her to the hospital, just in case, but then she thought about strangers touching her when she was like this and shivered. She didn’t think she could handle that right now. He pulled his hand away and she felt an ache at its loss, which only grew larger as he disappeared from the world again, leaving her in the car alone. He opened her door after a moment and didn’t bother to ask before swooping her up into his arms and closing the door with his foot. She clung to him even though she knew she should feel embarrassed and indignant at this. The soft motion of his steps lulled her into a calmer state while he walked up to his apartment.
           He jostled her a bit and she heard him kick at his door. She didn’t think it sounded like he kicked it hard enough to kick it in, but then it was open, and she was being carried into his apartment. The next thing she knew, she felt herself being lowered onto something soft. She blinked her eyes open, not quite sure how they’d come to be closed. He was leaning over her, adjusting the covers of what she recognized, from the couple of times she dragged his drunk ass out of it, was his bed. She hadn’t thought this was how she’d end up in his bed for the first time.
           He coughed a bit awkwardly. She wondered suddenly if she’d said that out loud, but she couldn’t remember and was just sleepy enough not to worry about it. He finished tucking her in.
           “I’m going to grab you some water,” he said, but when he went to leave, her arm shot out before she realized it, grabbing him by the elbow. His head jerked to her in surprise.
           “I…” her heart was racing suddenly at the thought of him not being in arms reach. Please don’t leave me alone like this. I can’t be alone like this. She managed to swallow her words this time, not letting them tumble freely from her mouth, but he seemed to hear them anyway.
           “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, moving to sit next to her on the bed. She didn’t let go of his arm. He reached his free hand over to softly move one of her curls behind her ear. She relaxed again, her breath evening out and the panic subsiding. Her eyes closed.
           He was murmuring something she couldn’t quite make out. She tried to focus, but by the time she did, he was done talking. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but was just staring at the wall, his hand resting on her shoulder. Light from the streetlights outside filtered through the pulled blinds on his window, leaving lines of shadows across his face. He had a deep frown on his face and a bit too much stubble on his chin for it to be a 5’o’clock shadow and she wondered how long it had been since he’d shaved. Wondered if she’d pulled him out of one of his drunken stupors. Or maybe that had been how long it had taken to find her. His hair had long since come out of his bun and was falling in thick waves over his shoulders. Soft, she thought when her hand came into contact with it.
           The tugging on his hair brought his attention back to her. He cocked an eyebrow. “It looked soft,” she explained. He chucked softly, but the tense lines around his mouth didn’t lessen. He reached up to grab her hand, but didn’t untangle it from his hair, just stroking the skin between her thumb and index finger.
           “How’re you feeling?” he asked. Like after the first time I got shot, but without the pain. And the pain was better because at least it kept me grounded. Like the world is spinning in circles around me. Like I’d fade into nothing if you weren’t keeping me here.
           “Fine.” He frowned, knowing she was lying. He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss against her knuckles. The feel of his lips brought the world a little bit more into focus for a moment, which, she would deny, she appreciated.
           She heard the bedroom door open and her heartrate soared immediately. She jerked up into a sitting position, startling Sams, fight or flight instinct firing up and going to war with the drug induced haze trying to pull her body back down into the bed, into darkness. Not being able to get her limbs to cooperate, to get herself off the bed, made her panic more, feeing like a prisoner in her own body, in her own mind. She really, really, didn’t like this. “It’s just Kit Kat!” Sams voice broke through the haze. She paused, the words rolling around her head. They took longer than they should have to register. “That’s right, it’s just Kit Kat, everything is fine.” She realized her hand had gone to her ankle, where earlier there had been a scalpel tapped to her skin, but apparently at some point, it, along with her shoes, had been removed. She calmed herself with a few deep breaths. Sams was holding the aforementioned Sax Gremlin up so Maggie could see her easily.
           Kit Kat murmured a soft greeting in gremlin.
           “Sorry Kit Kat,” Maggie choked out, curling her knees up to her chest. The situation, diffused, Sams took the glass of water Kit Kat had in her hand (it was about 1/3 empty by now), and swung the gremlin up so she was clinging to his shoulders. He offered Maggie the glass, which she took. She hadn’t even noticed the dry cotton taste in her mouth until now and she quickly downed most of the glass. Sams took the glass back, setting it on his nightstand.
           Kit Kat mumbled something that roughly translated to “are you okay?” Maggie nodded and hesitantly held her arms out. The gremlin happily scuttled over the top of Sams’ head and launched herself at Maggie. Maggie caught her while Sams sputtered and she immediately curled up on Maggie’s chest. Exhaustion overtook her once more and she flopped back down onto the bed, her eyes closed, with Kit Kat on her stomach. Sams hesitated. “You two good if I…” She blindly reached a hand up and grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down. Despite the bad angle and her current state, he fell onto the bed. She wasn’t sure if that was out of surprise or bending to her will. She yanked his arm over her and Kit Kat while turning to her side, curling up into a ball with Kit Kat clutched to her chest and Sams at her back. He chuckled a bit and curled around her. Kit Kat made that happy chirping sound like she always did when they showed any type of affection for each other. They’d doubtlessly both deny this in the morning.
           She drifted for a little bit, not asleep, but not fully awake. She still didn’t like the feeling the drugs gave her, but it was better like this. Fingers softly stroked through her hair and she felt a soft kiss on her neck. He probably assumed she was asleep. “Sams?” she asked. He made a sound of acknowledgment. “Did you kill them?”
           “Would you have me arrested if I said yes?”
           “Probably.” She didn’t sound very threatening consider she yawned as she said it. She felt him smile against her neck.
           “Then, no, of course not.” She hummed sleepily. “You can let yourself fall asleep now. It’ll be better when you wake up,” he told her, his breath brushing her cheek. Morning Maggie would have to deal with whatever morally and legally grey things Sams had gotten himself into before he found her, but, for now, she didn’t care. She just gripped his arm tighter and let herself fall asleep.
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critrolestats · 3 years ago
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Media References and Puns of 3-021 Fight at the Museum...
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Thanks to @mjdrawsalot​ for this art piece!
Media References
(0:00:44) Matt: Oh, this is weirdly familiar from old days. I hate it. Liam: Season six. Matt: Curse you, Blindspot.
(0:01:18) Sam: Last time, we saw The Palm Pilot…
(0:03:25) Sam: Oh, Freddy Krueger for Marisha!
(0:04:06) Marisha: Maybe you’re next, Vince McSam…
(0:04:52) Liam: Robert Goulet. Matt: La a de da da da do, nature.
(0:19:36) Travis: I thought Hammer Sparks was an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.
(0:19:45) Liam: Rainbow sparkles. Laura: *singing* Rainbow sparkles. (Little Charmers)
(0:24:53) Matt: BAFTA award-winning Laura Bailey.
(0:34:51) Travis: They would T-1000 through that b****.
Read more at critrolestats.com
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dinojeff · 6 years ago
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Well, ever since art-venture noir has become a story I decided to throw my own character in this story named “Rob .T Saur” he’s another detective in the late 30s,40s, etc. He’s an outcast from the official laws due to him being half human and half Predator leaving him to solve his own problems and to keep his own life stable as it stands. He has heard about Sam McSams story but think he’ll provide nothing to help them out. Edit: btw this a my OC and is very different from my main OC @kristen-wears-goggles @internetremix hope you like it
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endlesswonderdesigns · 5 years ago
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Excited to share the latest addition to my #etsy shop: McSam Keychain More Beautiful For Having Been Broken #MBFHBB #zoeventoura #nicoleconn #kayleradomski #mbfhbb #mckenzie #sam #freddie #lesbian https://etsy.me/2Zz3ccb
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iksathrob · 6 years ago
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One of New York City’s most prolific hotel developers is checking out. Sam Chang, whose McSam Hotel Group helped pioneer a new class of budget hotel in the 1990s, began winding down his business last year, the Wall Street Journal reported. And a new law restricting hotel development in manufacturing zones was a major factor in his decision. “They are pretty much putting me out of business,” Chang told the Journal, referring to the lawmakers […] from The Real Deal New York http://bit.ly/2ElGyZG
http://realestateiksa.blogspot.com/2019/05/budget-hotel-developer-sam-chang-is.html
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rachelstipe · 6 years ago
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Magna Hospitality picks up Sam Chang’s Garment District hotel for $274M
Magna Hospitality Group has closed on its buy of Sam Chang’s newly built hotel in the Garment District. Sam Chang’s McSam Hotel Group sold the property for $274.3 million, according to property records filed Friday. The parties were reported to have entered contract last month. Deutsche Bank provided a $185 million refinanced loan to buyer Magna Hospitality Group, headed by CEO Robert Indeglia. The lender declined to comment. Chang and Rhode Island-based Magna Hospitality did not […]
Magna Hospitality picks up Sam Chang’s Garment District hotel for $274M published first on https://condosingapore.tumblr.com/
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hobbylandlord · 7 years ago
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via Real Estate Weekly, HobbyLandlord.com
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bryancroidragon · 6 years ago
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Okay, so I wrote this two page short story for the new Noir story that @internetremix did for their recent Artventure stream... Which, is actually still going on at the moment I am posting this. It is short and I left it one a sort of cliffhanger with some questions left unanswered in case I want to write a follow-up. Carthach is my creation. Use him if you want, I don’t really care. Basically, I created a few characters so it would be more than just Maggie and Sam. I don’t even know what to call this thing. “The Police Call”? I’m not going to lie, this sucks.
Mr. Carthach, the owner of the Carthach Museum of Egyptology sat in his office. Opposite of him sat Sam McSams and Maggie O’Hera. He had not been expecting a visit from them he was a fine upstanding citizen of this fair city of Internet City.
“Detective McSams… Officer O’Hera…” he said, his eyes darting between them. “What do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“Are you aware that a body was found on your property?” asked Maggie.
Carthach swallowed nervously. The museum was also his home, having originally been a private museum since his grandfather’s ownership of the estate until he opened the museum to the public. “Dear me, has one of the mummies been stolen?”
“No, it is a body younger than the Roman conquest of Egypt.” Stated Sam.
“We were wondering if you knew anything about it...” Said Maggie.
Scratching his forehead, Carthach stood up and walked over to his office window. “Is it fresh?”
“It is not.” Answered Maggie. “Mr. Carthach, when was the last time you set foot outside of your residence?”
“Onto the grounds you mean?” Carthach shrugged. “I can’t rightly remember, I just recently got over a fever. I haven’t been outside in at least five days.” He removed his glasses and began to clean them. “My grandfather was an odd man, he died riding down a stairway on a serving tray. His decision to bring herds of horses onto the estate was perhaps not his finest. I have nothing against horses but there have been a few deaths by trampling. They have basically gone feral, people get trampled by feral horses all the time.”
“The body was indeed trampled but there was a stab wound on the body.” Stated Sam, getting out of his chair and walking towards Carthach.
Swallowing nervously, Carthach started to back away right into the corner of his office. “I have not been outside of this building in five days, I am guiltless.”
“But maybe you had hired someone to do it!” exclaimed Sam.
“Are you insane? I have never had anyone killed! Who even was it?”
“Chester Curtis!”
A look of confusion fell upon Carthach’s pale face, his red eyebrows coming close together. “Who?”
“Mr. Carthach, are I am sorry for confronting you like this.” Apologized Sam. “May we interview your employees?”
Carthach nodded. “Of course.” He took a seat in his chair and pulled a handkerchief out of jacket pocket, using it to wipe sweat off his brow. He hated people getting too close to him. The only person he allowed to get close to him was his wife.
Sam and Maggie both exited Carthach’s office only for the latter to re-enter. “Mr. Carthach, just one question.”
“Yes, Officer O’Hera?”
“What is the story of that statue of the pregnant woman with the protruding head and wearing that crown?”
“That is a man.”
“Really?”
 Carthach’s eyes glazed over. “Yes, really, it was the art style of his period.”
“Elongated heads, protruding stomachs and heavy hips?”
“Yes, Officer O’Hera.” Stated Carthach. “I have some statues of his daughters in the same style. Would you like to see them?”
“No! I, mean… No, thank you.” Said Maggie. She was pretty sure the image of Akhenaten’s statue would be appearing in her nightmares, she didn’t want to add anymore strange looking statues appearing in them. “I will be going—“
Maggie didn’t get any further. A gunshot went off and immediately the eyes of both her and Carthach to widen. In a Jeff Goldblum-esque voice, Carthach asked: “Is that gunfire in my house?”
“No, that was just a gunshot.” Said Maggie. After she finished speaking several more shots occurred. “That would be gunfire.”
Maggie ran off in the direction of the gunfire with her own gun in hand. She saw Sam shooting at a guy with a three-inch wide face. It was Three-Inch Face McGee, wanted for murder in five provinces and one state. Maggie fired her gun and the bullet entered McGee’s chest.
Mortally wounded, McGee fell back into a sarcophagus that was both open and empty. Had Sam and Maggie found their murderer? Was Carthach truly innocent? Tune in next time, same Noir time. Same Noir hour.
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