#maggie o'hera/sams mcsams

[adrianainthesnow]

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.

[internetremix]

Artventure Noir July 29, 2018

Hell Hath No Fury

New Gremlins introduced and McSams in peril? A Railway Rampage!

[bryancroidragon]

Enter the Gorilla-Suit-Gang

The beginning of a new story arc for my fan fiction for “Artventure Noir”, created by @internetremix. It isn’t much but remember, it is just the beginning. Enjoy.

It was a peaceful night in Internet City. The moon and starts shone down upon the city as for once there was no crime going on. Many a citizen listened to the radio doing all sorts of things. If it was Sams McSams, he was busy getting drunk. If it was Maggie O��Hera, she was doing paperwork at home. If it was a gremlin, then they were doing whatever struck their fancy be it their job or not. No matter who it was, one could not help but feel that what came next was something impossibly strange.

Radio on, smooth jazz music playing, Maggie looked at the paperwork. Missing persons’ cases, kidnappings, murders and then she came to file on a wanted criminal: Kyle Camonte. Camonte was a member of Vincenzo “The Cleaver” Nitto’s gang that, according to Edwin O’Sullivan who had been told by The Cleaver himself, he had loaned to the previous chief of police of Internet City: Maxwell O’Hera, Maggie’s father.

That an Egyptologist and gangster/businessman could have been in the same social circle might have seemed strange but the two had been in the same trench during the war. The Cleaver and had saved Edwin’s life resulting in a whole different story where Maggie and Sams had paid Edwin a call.

Kyle Camonte… The direct killer of Maggie’s beloved Leon… He was one of three people that Maggie wanted to see brought to justice more than anything. The other two were the Cleaver and her own father, both men who had a played a role in Leon’s murder.

Seeing the file with a picture of Camonte, a look of pure unadulterated rage appeared on Maggie’s face. Immediately, she crumpled it up and threw it into her waste paper basket.

The moment the paper landed in the basket, the radio began to play only static. Sighing, Maggie could only wonder what was wrong with the thing now. She only took three steps towards it before a voice that sounded like a poor man’s impression of Elmo Lincoln began speaking.

“Attention, Internet City! We are the Gorilla-Suit-Gang, the greatest menace you have ever known!” Maggie could only stand there and give the radio an odd look. What was this? Was this an advertisement for a new radio program? There had been worse advertisements but this ‘Gorilla-Suit-Gang’ did not sound half as terrifying as the ‘Spider-Gentlewoman’, which admittedly had a bad title but was quite gripping. “Tonight we shall rob the Internet City Bank and this is the challenge we issue to you, Chief Margaret O’Hera! Just try and stop us!” The voice broke out into a maniacal chortle, which was not as frightening as a maniacal laugh, and the radio went silent.

There was no way this was real. Maggie refused to believe something as absurd as this was actually happening. It was just some imitators of that “War of the Worlds” thing that had been playing on the radio. It was just using her name to make it seem more real, this program was just trying to scare people. Why would anyone rob the bank while wearing gorilla suits? Internet City might have been a weird place with the living skeletons and saxophone gremlins but it wasn’t so weird that there would be bank robbers wearing gorilla suits and broadcasting their plans to the entire city.

Turning back to the paperwork, Maggie took one look at the pile and rolled her eyes. It was getting too late for this, she’d continue with it the next day. She was tired it was time to sleep. Maggie walked back over to turn off the radio only for an announcer to say: “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for that interruption. We do not know how it happened but please know that this Gorilla-Suit-Gang is in no way associated with Internet City Radio, it is not a new radio program… Also, if Edwin O’Sullivan would be so kind as to give us answer to our asking him to be a consultant for our new program ‘In the Days of Ancient Egypt’, that would be much obliged. It has been six months and we still haven’t gotten answer. As Internet City’s premier Egyptologist you would be—“

Maggie turned off the radio. It looked like she wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

When she opened the door of her apartment Maggie found a small gremlin, slightly below the average gremlin height, that had a left leg that was shorter than the right and a right shoulder that was higher than the left. He was dapperly dressed with five gold buttons on his jacket and he was wearing a top hat. It was the prankster Algae Cake and he had been in the process of covering the patch of floor outside of Maggie’s apartment with glue.

Maggie stood there for a whole minute until Algae Cake realized that the door was open and that she was standing right there. When he finally looked up to see Maggie standing before him, all she could say to him was: “Algae Cake, where have you been?” After that little adventure involving Lorenzo Deutsch capturing her and Sams no one had seen Algae Cake since he found a discarded umbrella and ended up getting blown away by a gust of wind, which had been three weeks ago.

“A place… With a name… It was somewhere… And it was not Internet City.” From the vague description, Algae Cake sounded as if he had been blown out of the city by the gust of wind. In actuality, he ended up landing in the zoo’s capybara exhibit. Maggie stepped over the glue then knelt down and picked up Algae Cake who then began to give an alarmed squeal and exclaim: “No, I don’t want to go to jail! I’ll be a good gremlin, I promise!”

Shaking her head with a grin, Maggie just carried Algae Cake out of the apartment and put him down on the sidewalk once they were out. “I’m going to protect the bank from the Gorilla-Suit-Gang, you go… Do something else.” And with that Maggie left to get to the Internet City Bank while Algae Cake began scheming to fill the drawers of the police headquarters with oranges.

To be continued…

[internetremix]

I drew these while I was watching artventure yesterday. Unfortunately I didn’t watch it live, I watched it a week later. Everyone is a great voice actor! I love artventure and I hope it continues, but take your time you deserve a break !   

-PF

Thank you for the kind words and cute art! Gotta love Maggie’s jealous face and how happy Sams looks and Kitkat is very mad hahaha. Also ah lean of not love I swear shut up Sams. Very good! -Kristen

[internetremix]

Here’s another genderbend but instead it’s ArtVenture Noir and it’s on paper!

They’re very cute! Genderbent Sams seems much more smiley... and even angrier. Maggie just looks intense. Also Leon is cute.

-Kristen

[internetremix]

so on the artventure stream, you guys mentioned that maggie and sams would probably have bronze statues in modern internet city, because legacy.

so here ya go! the kiddies as statues! they even got a plaque how neat

Awww this is so sweet! They look so cool and I just love the idea of it. Thank you so much! -Kristen

[internetremix]

Artventure 6/3/2018

Gremnoir Part I So uh. We got a bit carried away with Artventure. The brief captions allotted to me by the tumbles really don’t do it justice. I definitely hope you guys watch the youtube video when it’s up!

Art by @miss-goggles, @camichats, @jsketch12, @jojo-soda Narration (in stream, look you gotta watch the stream) by @alexandervonkoopa

[internetremix]

It all started with me drawing my OC for the Gremnoir story. I’m not that much of a drawer and he came out looking odd. So, I tried the canon trio and they ended up looking better… For the most part. I mean considering I’m the one that drew them they still look bad but not as bad as “Mr. Crescent Moon” as I have dubbed the drawing of my OC.

Nice job! I like how clean your shapes came out, especially in Sams’ hair and the mix of red and green you used for Maggie.

-Kristen

[bryancroidragon]

Saving Maggie and Sams

My sixth story for Artventure Noir. It is okay, average in my opinion, but I hope the people at @internetremix will like it.

Lorenzo Deutsch was best described as a purple Boris Karloff when it came to appearance. Why was he purple? That was a legitimate question that even he did not know the answer too. A gangster and sympathizer of an infamous political party from overseas, he was the brother of a man that Maggie O’Hera had shot in self-defense. Thus he had sworn revenge on Maggie and, because he was a romantic or at least he was one in his view, he had captured Sams McSams as well, whom he believed to be Maggie’s lover.

So here they were. Maggie and Sams were tied to a pole in a pit in a warehouse surrounded by a moat of wet cement on the eastside of Internet City. Above them Deutsch smiled as the wet cement began to be filled into the pit.

“Ms. O’Hera, Detective McSams, I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that Internet City will be in good hands under Chief Dean, he is a man after my own heart after all. The eradication of the unwanted such as those pesky goblins will be a great help to the city.” Said Deutsch while Maggie and Sams both glared at him. “And speaking of goblins…” He turned and looked upon Edwin O’Sullivan, Egyptologist and veteran of the war of the previous decade, in the grips of his henchmen, the 7’1 Hagen and the non-descript Mime, the latter of which was holding Edwin’s revolver. “Mr. O’Sullivan, I… Actually, what rank did you hold when you were an officer in the trenches?”

“Captain.” Answered Edwin.

“Captain O’Sullivan, where are those two goblins that were with you?”

“Go to Acheron!”

There was a moment of near silence. Deutsch, Hagen and Mime all stood there with a perplexed expressions upon their countenances while Edwin stood in the grasp of Hagen and Mime swinging his right leg back and forth and the cement slowly filled the pit that Maggie and Sams were in.

Finally, Deutsch said: “I don’t know what that is.” He then looked down at Edwin’s right leg. “And why are you doing that?”

“I’m trying to get my prosthetic foot loose so I can send it flying at you!”

“Oh… Trench foot?”

“How else?”

Deutsch and his henchmen both nodded. That was logical. “If you won’t tell me then I guess I will just shoot you with your own gun, seduce your widow and then sell all of that junk you Egyptologists call things of value!” He took Edwin’s gun from Mime, aimed it at Edwin, pulled the trigger and… Nothing. Upon examining the revolver, Deutsch discovered it to be: “Empty?”

“I got rid of my bullets after I shot Sams in the shoulder.” Said Edwin. “Speaking of which… How are you two doing down there?”

“It is at knee level!” shouted Maggie.

“We’re fine, take your time, go to the Greasy Spoon, buy a donut!” added Sams with a sarcastic tone.

Deutsch growled and threw the revolver aside just as Edwin managed to get his prosthetic foot loose. It went flying and… It went right over Deutsch’s head and then landed in the pit that was filling with cement. Maggie’s cry of “Ouch!” caused Edwin to wince. The Purple Boris Karloff then walked over to the pit to see where the prosthetic foot had landed after it had hit Maggie’s cranium. It had just begun to sink into the cement on her left.

With a smug grin, Deutsch turned to Edwin and exclaimed: “You misses me, you dense animal!” Then did a pomegranate come flying down from the rafters of the warehouse and hit him square in the face, sending him into the pit filling with cement.

Kitkat had gotten the pomegranate out of her saxophone.

Down from the rafters she came with her saxophone in hand. She blew into it and the barrel of a gun emerged from the mouth of the saxophone. Hagen and Mime both stood there wide-eyed until the former noticed something even smaller than Kitkat running for the pit.

It was Algae Cake!

Letting go of Edwin, Hagen grabbed a twenty-pound sledgehammer from a nearby table and lumbered towards the little gremlin. Had Algae Cake not had a stubby left leg, he would have been faster when it came to getting to the pit that was filling with cement. Because he was not, he was only three feet away from the pit when Hagen brought the sledgehammer down right in front of him.

To say that Algae Cake was frightened would be an understatement, coming up to the bottom of Kitkat’s neck he was a small gremlin and the 7’1 Hagen was even bigger to him. To say that he had fainted would have been an outright lie. To say that he went running the other way screaming with Hagen chasing after him trying to smash Algae Cake with a sledgehammer would be an entirely accurate statement.

With Hagen’s grasp no longer on his right arm, Edwin brought his right fist into Mime’s face sending the non-descript man to the floor. He then turned to Kitkat and said to her while balancing on his left foot: “Hand me that rope and tie the other end to something sturdy.” Kitkat handed the specified rope to Edwin and he then hopped on over to the pit and went on down to get Maggie and Sams out. The cement was now waist high. When he got down there, he paused and asked them: “Have either of you seen my foot?”

“It sunk, Edwin.” Stated Maggie.

“Oh…” Edwin began untying Maggie and Sams when something suddenly came to mind. “Wait, where is Deutsch?” As if on command, the cement covered form of Deutsch emerged from the cement and put Edwin in a chokehold. The latter’s response? “I should have kept my mouth shut!” Edwin had done his work. The ropes were loose. Maggie and Sams were able to get free and once they were they pulled Edwin from Deutsch’s hold and then simultaneously punched the cement-covered purple Boris Karloff in the face. Deutsch went down, slumped against the side of the pit. Edwin then pointed to the rope as he looked at Maggie and said: “Ladies, first.”

Maggie went up the rope and Sams followed her. When they were both up, Maggie called down and said: “Edwin, you hold onto the rope and we’ll pull you up!”

“Okay!” said Edwin, holding onto the rope. “I’m rea—“ He didn’t get any further. Deutsch had regained consciousness and had wrenched Edwin from the rope. Hitting the Egyptologist with his arms like some sort of ape, Deutsch left himself open for a move that he had not anticipated. Edwin grabbed him by the throat and then forced his head under the rising cement. With hands out reached, Deutsch clawed at Edwin’s face until finally he met the end he had intended for Maggie and Sams.

To say that Edwin was feeling fine following that moment would be untrue. He leaned against the side of the pit while Maggie and Sams both came over and looked down at him.

“Ed!” said Sams. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Lied Edwin. “Why do you ask?”

“You are up to your chest in cement and you are just leaning there… Having a flashback to the war?”

“Yeah…” He held onto the rope and then Maggie and Sams pulled him out of the pit and turned off the cement. After sitting down in a chair he looked around and saw that someone was missing. He looked at Kitkat and asked: “Where is Top hat gremlin?”

“That big guy was chasing him with a sledgehammer!” she said, understood by Maggie and Sams. “I don’t know where they went!”

[bryancroidragon]

Finding Maggie and Sams

My fifth Artventure Noir story features neither Maggie or Sams in person. Actually, it is probably because of that this might be the worst story I have written for Artventure Noir yet. Besides Kitkat, most of the characters who appear in this are OCs so I’m not sure how people will feel about this. here is hoping the people at @internetremix like it.

It was a fine Tuesday morning at O’Sullivan Manor, formerly known as “Carthach Manor”, and also known as the O’Sullivan Museum of Egyptology, formerly known as the “Carthach Museum of Egyptology.” Edwin O’Sullivan and his wife Audrey were enjoying breakfast on the veranda of the manor.

Audrey was a young woman the same age as her husband. She was a thin woman with light skin, reddish-brown eyes and straight long hair. She was wearing a blue dress just as Edwin was wearing a red blazer.

Edwin was looking at a letter he had received from the Internet City Zoo. It said they had managed to acquire a young male caracal from the Cairo Zoo and wanted Internet City’s very own Egyptologist to name him.

“I have a few names considered, Audrey” Said Edwin.

“May I hear them, dear?” asked Audrey.

“Akhenaten, Tutankhamen, Ramses, Alexander, Augustus, Caligula and Nero.”

“I’d remove ‘Caligula’ and ‘Nero.’” Said Audrey, stirring her tea with a spoon. “Caligula was, well, Caligula and Nero was the Antichrist. I’m not sure those are the most inviting names.”

“Noted.” Edwin said, nodding. “I should probably remove ‘Ramses’ from the list too since that DeMille picture came out and portrayed Ramses the Great as the Pharaoh of the Exodus.”

“You aren’t removing ‘Augustus’ for how he is often portrayed?” asked Audrey.

“No, I think Robert Graves’ novels will really turn things around and people will view him as a great hero! I am keeping him on the list!”

“So, we have three names that start with the letter ‘A’…” Audrey tapped her teaspoon on her teacup.

“Yeah, looks like we are going with Tutankhamen.” Stated Edwin. “No, wait! Merneptah!”

“For goodness sake, Edwin! Not everyone in Internet City is an Egyptologist! They won’t know that Merneptah was Ramses the Great’s successor and thirteenth son!”

“Of course they will! He was in that Austrian film ‘The Moon of Israel!’”

The subject of the caracal’s name came abruptly to an end as two gremlins came running onto the veranda. One was obviously Kitkat, the gremlin that Sam McSams had abducted but the other was a smaller one that only came up to the bottom of Kitkat’s neck, had a stubby left leg, a right shoulder that was higher than the left and was wearing a top hat.

“Hello, Kitkat. What brings you here?” asked Audrey. “And who is your adorable little friend?”

“He’s Algae Cake!” replied Kitkat. “Maggie was grabbed at the cemetery when she was visiting Leon’s grave!”

“Oh! By who?”

“By cops!” answered Algae Cake. “She was handcuffed by them and then gagged after she bit the nose of this old guy!”

“And they got Sams too!” exclaimed Kitkat. “We went to his place and found the place ransacked! There was a broken bottle and a puddle of blood!”

“What did they say?” asked Edwin. He never was able to understand gremlins they were as intelligible as people who spoke French to him.

“It would seem corrupt policemen have taken Maggie hostage and someone has gotten Sams too.” Answered Audrey. “Oh, Edwin, it is dreadful! You’ve got to do something!” Both Edwin and Audrey were fully capable of managing the museum but only Edwin had ever been a person of action since he had fought in the war of the previous decade.

 “I’ll be home once I’ve found Maggie and Sams, Audrey.” Edwin stood up. “If I don’t come back…” He looked at his wife and Audrey could not bear to look her husband in the eye. “I’ll be back home soon. I promise.”

“I pray that you will, Edwin.” Said Audrey, her voice sounding like she was about to cry. “I pray that you will.”

With his revolver from the war and the two gremlins on his shoulders, Edwin made his way to the Internet City Police Station. Police had taken their own police chief captive? Well then, it was best to start at the viper’s nest itself.

Edwin’s paternal grandfather Charles had been buried beneath the police station. That was an odd wish but even odder was that he dictated that he be buried upside down in a baseball bat shaped coffin. Ever since reverting the name to “O’Sullivan” Edwin had made arrangements to have Charles’ body dug up and buried on the grounds of the O’Sullivan estate. That had been a month ago, they were still digging Charles out.

Entering the police station he walked right to where his gut told him to go: Maggie’s office. The fifty-five year-old Robert McFarlane looked up from his desk as Edwin passed and raised an eyebrow when he saw the gremlins sitting on Edwin’s shoulder. When Edwin entered the office, he saw a policeman who had the appearance of a derelict and a bleeding nose standing before Maggie’s desk. He was ripping a photograph of Sams, Maggie and her late partner Leon to pieces.

“Officer Mark Dean…” said Edwin, causing the middle-aged officer to turn around in surprise.

“Mr. O’Sullivan! It is Chief Mark Dean now.”

“Where is Maggie?”

“Don’t know, must have left town.” Dean looked at Kitkat and then Algae Cake. “Since when do you let goblins ride on your shoulders?” Both gremlins glared at the usurper and began pointing fingers at him while quickly speaking in Edwin’s ear. He did not understand a word they were saying but they were getting across plainly what they were trying to tell him. Dean had been the leader of the cops that had gotten Maggie! Dean paid the gremlins no mind and just picked up Algae Cake by the back of his jacket, saying: “Look at this scrawny little runt! How much do you wanna guess he doesn’t survive being thrown out the window?”

“Where is Maggie?” asked Edwin again. “And you can tell me where Sams is too.”

“I told you I don’t know where she is, as for McSams he is probably drunk is a gutter somewhere.” Dean held Algae Cake up to the light and looked at the little gremlin’s left leg. “Take a look at his stubby leg! With his uneven legs he should have been euthanized!”

 “Put the gremlin down and tell me where Maggie and Sams are. I know that a group of policemen took Maggie captive and that Sams’ home was ransacked, now tell me where they are!”

 Dean tossed Algae Cake onto the desk, the gremlin landing on a pair of handcuffs. “They are with Lorenzo Deutsch, I’m sure you must have met him at the Club Lavender.”

“The sympathizer of that bloc of authoritarians led by the Charlie Chaplin lookalike that sounds like Margaret Hamilton? I’ve met him. Where has he taken them?” Edwin kept his eyes on Dean, he had a feeling the corrupt cop would come at him any moment.

“To that warehouse on the eastside!” Dean laughed. “At eleven Deutsch is going drown them in concrete!”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“They will drown! I am not going to be taking orders from a woman ever again and I won’t let some Egyptologist save that damn woman and her goblin-loving boyfriend!” Dean began to charge with a raise fist only to be suddenly stopped. “What the?” He looked down and found his right ankle handcuffed to the leg of Maggie’s desk. Algae Cake was standing there with a smile on his face, waving at Dean. The corrupt cop furled his brow, narrowed his eyes and then kicked the gremlin across the room until he hit the office’s wall. The next thing Dean knew he heard the screams of Kitkat. He turned and saw her flying at him with her saxophone in hand. She ended up bashing her saxophone against Dean’s nose, which had already been in pain enough from Maggie biting it. After screaming, Dean hurled Kitkat across the office only for Edwin to punch him in the face, hitting him right on the nose.

So fell Mark Dean.

With the unconscious cop on the desk, Edwin walked over to Kitkat and picked her up. “You okay?”

Although Edwin could not understand her, Kitkat answered with “I’m okay!” while nodding.

“Great and what about… Uh… Top hat gremlin?”

No sooner did Edwin finish the question did Algae Cake come running over… while holding the top of a mop. “I have the top of a mop!” he said, stating the obvious. “I can flop it on a cop! I can swap it for a top! I can—“

“I think you should stop.” Commented Kitkat with a completely deadpan expression.

Edwin just stared in confusion at this sight. He had seen no mop top so he felt the need to ask Kitkat:” Does Maggie keep a drawer full of mop tops?” Kitkat could only shake her head leading to Edwin sighing: “Okay then…”

The Egyptologist and the two gremlins left the office, leaving the unconscious corrupt cop on the desk with his right ankle handcuffed to the desk’s leg. McFarlane approached the three and said: “I heard everything. Want me to get some men rallied and we’ll go save the chief and McSams?”

“No, stay here and root out the other corrupt cops!” ordered Edwin. “Leave the rescuing of them to us.” Edwin, Kitkat and Algae Cake then left the police station completely.

If only Dean had stayed unconscious longer. No sooner than Edwin and the gremlins left the office, Dean had regained consciousness and took of the phone on Maggie’s desk, turned the dial until he got the number he wanted and said: “Deutsch, it is Dean! You might want to drown those two ahead of time!” 

[bryancroidragon]

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.”

[bryancroidragon]

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.

[bryancroidragon]

Night at Carthach Manor Part 2

A continuation of my fan story for @internetremix‘s Grim Noir ArtVenture story, I find this a vast improvement in that Kitkat appears, there is more focus on Maggie and Sam, it has an actual title now and the character I created, Edwin Carthach, ultimately emerges as the antagonist. I say it is an improvement but it is not saying much since I don’t think I’m doing very well with these stories. 

A body found on the Carthach Estate, a now fatally wounded murderer in an empty sarcophagus and thus is Edwin Carthach in hot water. Standing outside his office in his house and museum of Egyptology, his hands in the pocket of his red blazer he watched as Detective Sam McSams and Officer Maggie O’Hera approached him. Sam and Maggie were both fairly good and intelligent looking but Edwin looked as roughhewn and intelligent as a slab of granite.

“Carthach, for what reason was Three-Inch Face McGee in your house?” asked Sam in an aggressive tone.

“I don’t know who that is.” Edwin kept his hand sin his pockets, looking coolly at both Sam and Maggie.

“Don’t you read the papers?”

“No!”

“Don’t you listen to the radio?”

“Also no. As I’ve said, I’ve been ill, I don’t know who has been let into my house.” Still Edwin kept calm. Then Maggie started to get close to him and a look of alarm appeared on Edwin’s face, he always hated when people got close to him. The only person he allowed to get close to him was his wife and Maggie was his wife.

“He said you had said he would be safe here.” She said, whispering into his ear. McGee had not actually said anything. The moment Sam and Maggie had gotten over to him he had already died of the fatal bullet wound that Maggie had given him.

The sound of a saxophone then filled the air. Up the stairs of the house came a saxophone gremlin. Edwin had had a notorious hatred for saxophone music because his father had often played host to the Recovering Alcoholic Saxophone Gremlin Association. This just wasn’t any saxophone gremlin, this was Kitkat and she often accompanied Sam and Maggie on their adventures. Why was she only arriving now? She had been at a movie.

Between Maggie’s bluff that McGee had talked and the saxophone music, Edwin was not doing well when it came to removing calm. Maggie having gotten close to him was yet another factor in him being unable to stay calm. Sam just stood there waiting for Edwin to talk because he knew that with the saxophone music, Maggie being close to him and whatever it was she had said to him Edwin would break eventually. 

And talk Edwin did. “That loose-lipped bastard!” He shoved Maggie away from him and pulled a gun from his right pocket. Sam was quick to grab his own gun but Edwin he was quicker and shot Sam in the left shoulder. Kitkat’s reaction to this was to bash her saxophone against Edwin’s right knee with such a force that Edwin cried out from pain. His reaction to that was to kick Kitkat away with his left leg and nearly falling over as a result. Once he had kicked Kitkat away, Edwin had proceeded to hop away on his left leg. Maggie was quick to pursue and followed Edwin as he went through the door to his library.

Due to the library being on both the first and second floor of the house, Maggie had to stop herself to prevent her from going over the railing and down onto the first floor. If she had, she would have landed on a table and would have the moon shining in on her through a stained glass window with an image of Tutankhamen’s sarcophagus on it. It was originally an image of Moses but the year of the discovery of Tutankhamen’s tomb a lightning bolt had struck it requiring a new stained glass window.

 Edwin made his way to a door on the wall to the right of the library’s entrance. He went through the door, pushing it open and then closing it. When Maggie made her way to the door, she could hear the sound of the door being locked. She then looked at the door itself and noticed the lack of a doorknob on this side of the door.

 “Are you kidding me?” Maggie couldn’t believe this. Who made a door that only had a doorknob on one side of the door?

 “My grandfather was the architect of this place.” Said Edwin from the other side of the door. “If you want to make a complaint hold a séance and call him up, sweet cheeks!”

 “’Sweet cheeks?’ Listen here you, I don’t like it when Sam calls me ‘Toots’ or ‘Doll’ so don’t you start calling me ‘Sweet cheeks!’” When there was no response from Edwin, Maggie then asked: “Edwin Carthach, are you even still there?” Maggie then realized that she had no idea what was on the other side of the door. She went out into the hallway and bumped into Sam.

“Hey, Sweet cheeks.” Greeted Sam with a teasing tone.

“Oh, shut up!” exclaimed Maggie, a blush upon her face as she made her way to the next door down the hall and opened it. It was a living room. At one end of the living room was the door that Edwin had gone through and at the other end was another door. Due to a lack of a dead Edwin anywhere in the living room, that mean he could not have killed himself to escape arrest. However that left the door at the other end of the living room. Maggie and Sam walked through and found a bedroom that looked like it belonged in a Cairo hotel. There was still no Edwin in there, dead or otherwise. “What the hell? Where is he?”

The puzzlement didn’t last long. Edwin’s voice ran out through the house with a “Son of a –“ Maggie and Sam both ran out into the hallway and found an unconscious Edwin at the far end of it, collapsed at the foot of a statue of Ramses the Great.  

[bryancroidragon]

Maggie to the Rescue

Here is the conclusion to this four part story arc of the Artventure Noir fan fiction I have been writing. It isn’t much to talk about but if anyone likes it then good. If the people at @internetremix are confused there will be a submission of a link to a post with links to all four stories that consist of this arc.

Hagen, 7’1 henchman to the now late Lorenzo Deutsch, stood over the short, stubby-legged gremlin Algae Cake. With a twenty-pound sledgehammer in hand, the giant smiled as he towered over the cornered gremlin with a top hat. Trapped between crates and a warehouse wall, Algae Cake trembled.

“Hey!” Hagen turned only to have a fist come flying at his face. He went flying through the wall and landed in the moat of wet cement located outside the warehouse. Still trembling, Algae Cake looked up at the person who had punched the giant through a wall. It was Maggie O’Hera.

Maggie looked down at Algae Cake and the look that fell upon her face was the same kind that fell upon a face when someone saw a cute kitten. “Are you the little troublemaker that filled Sams’ alcohol bottles with soup that tastes like week old cabbage?” Algae Cake nodded and Maggie picked the trembling gremlin up while saying: “You are adorable!”

Algae Cake knew he was adorable. It was the fact that he knew he was adorable that he was sometimes able to pull pranks more easily. He had been considering pranking Sams and Maggie when this was all over but right now he was too shaky to do so. He had planned to tie them together by both of their ankles and then watch as they would fall over with them getting flustered once Sams was on top of Maggie or vice versa.

Maggie carried Algae Cake to where Sams and Edwin were. The latter was sitting on a crate, trying to create a makeshift prosthetic foot for his right leg out of various materials.

“I haven’t the fondest memories of being an officer in the trenches.” Said Edwin. “Even before the trench foot requiring the amputation I had one goal: to get out. The food wasn’t great in fact there is an amoeba on Saturn who could boil a better egg than our cook could. His Filet Mignons in Sauce Bernaise looked like dog turds in glue, which was because they were. His plum duff tasted like it was a molehill decorated with rabbit droppings, his cream custard had the texture of cat vomit—“

“That is enough, Ed!” exclaimed Sams.

“The coffee was particularly bad too.”

“And there goes my appetite.”

“It tasted like mud because it was mud. The sugar was dandruff and the milk was saliva… Then there was the time a plane crashed into the—“

“That would be all.” Commented Maggie as she approached, carrying the shaking Algae Cake.

“So that is the little troublemaker who emptied my Jack Daniels’ bottles and filled them with soup that tastes like week old cabbage.” Said Sams, looking at the shaking gremlin. “I have to admit that was actually pretty funny. The stealing of my shoes and replacing them with Maggie’s wasn’t so funny however.”

“That was you?” Maggie looked down at the shaking Algae Cake in her arms. Already nervous about punishment, Algae Cake was fidgeting to get out of Maggie’s arms. “You little! Those were my good shoes!”

A realization then dawned upon Edwin’s face as he grabbed Algae Cake by his stubby right leg and held him upside down. The little gremlin was quick to grab his top hat.

“Wait, wait, wait… The mummy of the High Priest of Amen-Ra sitting in my chair in my study… That was you?”

A look of confusion formed upon Algae Cake’s face. Sams, Maggie and Kitkat could only stare at Edwin.

“Just how tall was this priest?” asked Sams.

“About… Forget it, I just realized how impossible it is.” Edwin gently put Algae Cake down to the ground. He then looked at Sams and Maggie and asked: “So, what do we do with this master prankster?”

“Let him go, he has never caused any actual harm.” Said Maggie, her eyes on the trembling gremlin. “Besides, the little guy’s been through enough today with Hagen chasing after him with a sledgehammer.”

“From what Kitkat’s been saying he’s had his day as a hero when it came to helping you and her take down Dean.” Added Sams. “I say let him have his day.”

Kitkat gave the shaking Algae Cake a hug and a small smile appeared on the little gremlin’s face. It wasn’t because he was being hugged. It was because he had just spotted an umbrella for a human lying on the ground as the police arrived to arrest the only person left to arrest: Mime, the other henchmen of the late Lorenzo Deutsch.

Algae Cake ran over to the umbrella and held it aloft. He yelled: “I’ve found an umbrella!” He then proceeded to open the umbrella and get blown away by a gust of wind, screaming as he did.

Sams’ reaction involved wide eyes, Maggie’s involved wide eyes and her right hand covering her mouth, Kitkat having an expression that was best described as a mix of acquiescent and charmed while Edwin merely asked one question. “Do you think ‘Tutankhamen’ or ‘Merneptah’ would be a good name for the zoo’s caracal?”