Welcome To Fitzville

Book !, Chapter ^

                Oh my, where should I even begin with Maxwell?

                He’s definitely a top favorite of mine. After all, he’s second in the top three sub-deities. Call him the Hades if you will. (And the Lawrence would be the Zeus and Serene is the Poseidon, but let’s save them for another day). It’s just, well, he’s done some-no, MANY questionable things. So no, I wouldn’t consider him a good person, but he still has heart. Not to be that person, but his actions are probably the reason his son hates him; Drake. Yes, that grouchy wolf kid you met in the first chapter? This is his dad. Yeah.

                Well, let’s start. First his pros.

                -He has a soft spot for children.

                -He honestly tries to do what’s best.

                -He has a decent personality—good sense of humor (though can be sick), nice to his friends, etc.

                And now the cons.

                -That soft spot for children is a LITTLE creepy sometimes.

                -He’s a huge control freak.

                -He’s incredibly sadistic and masochistic (he’s just a guy that enjoys pain in general)

                -Bloodthirsty effer. Incredibly.

                -He has the mood swings of a PMS-ing teenage girl.

                -He loves the most violent way possible, even though we are a peaceful organization.

                Why did listing his cons feel good I don’t know.

                But anyways, I can’t blame him though. His parents were slaughtered right in front of him and his siblings when he was five. And he was the youngest. Then he’s was split from his siblings in the adoption/foster system and was put in a crappy house full of drunks. I think you might know how THAT turned out. Then he had that ONE teacher at school that always made him feel like shit, which encouraged the other students to do the same, and that just wore on his mentality for years. (With a dramatic far fetched story you'd probably wouldn't believe me but TRUST ME it happened, as scary as it is) And once he got his abilities and was awakened, that did not help.

                When you get awakened by me, your powers affect your personality/mentality a bit. For example, awakening a passionate, bright, hot power like fire will make louder, more confident, and even angrier (Alex).

                So that being said, Maxwell’s power is darkness, fear, and nightmares. You can probably guess that this didn’t put a positive spin on his personality.

                But either, way, I’d wish he’d be a better role model, at least for his son.

                While Will was getting treated, Maxwell decided to visit Drake’s room. He creaked open his bedroom door and slipped in, taking the form of a black cat. He hopped onto Drake’s bed and circled around him. Drake happened to have taken the form of a Siberian husky while he slept. Maxwell sat close to him and began to rub himself against him, trying to wake him up (this all sounds really odd I know but keep in mind they are animals right now). He purred. “Oh, my dearest son?”

                Drake growled and slowly opened his eyes. He glared at Maxwell. “What do you want Dad?”

                “I can’t come say goodnight to my own son?”

                “I went to bed three hours ago Dad.”

                “Hmph. Well, you should have told me.”

                “Why?”

                “I would have put you to bed.”

                “I’m not five anymore Dad. Add ten years, in case you haven’t caught up.” He rolled over.

                As sad as it is, the most conflicting relationship that Maxwell has is with his own son.

                

Welcome To Fitzville

Book !, Chapter %

Bea was sitting in her room during that conversation with her cousin Marshal. She was on her bed, and he was at the foot of it, watching in silence as she played yet ANOTHER one of those shooting games. (Seriously people this is what you’re doing with the discovery of electricity I gave you? Then you wonder why violence has raised over the years.) She happened to be doing very good at this one.

                “Marshal, you wanna play,” she asked.

                Marshal shook his head. The boy never says much, and when he does, it’s only when absolutely necessary. I don’t know why though. Maybe it is because he feels more comfortable when not speaking, or maybe he’s afraid of saying something harsh. I don’t know. He’s always been a bit of an enigma.

                “Whatever,” she said. Muttering to herself after fact, she said, “You’re saving yourself from an ass kicking anyways.”

                Marshal has never been a fan of his cousin’s cockiness. With her being only twelve, and him fifteen, it was almost natural for him to be concerned for her future. He always wondered where her attitude would get her in the real world.

                Meanwhile, a woman with bright orange hair and the smoothest of dark skin was giving Will a therapy session. Her name was Jennifer Crys, a master of the mind and knowledge. She’s one of my finest sub-deities (meaning second generation), though a little colder than desired (not that this has anything to do with anything, but her daughter’s a little pain).

                So the session began. “William,” she started.

                “Will. Just Will.”

                She cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses. “Okay, Will. When you are bored, what do you feel like doing-and give me an APPROPRIATE answer this time. I’m tired of asking that question and getting a disgusting answer.”

                “Then just stop asking that question.” He smirked.

                “Will. Answer it.”

                “Fine,” he sighed, “I feel like…going out and doing the daily justice.”

                “Will.”

                “Fine I’ll lay the truth on you. I go out and slaughter anyone who’s seems off. Or if you want an elegant answer, I ice sculpt in my room.”

                Jennifer just stared at him.

                “What? My chainsaw can’t have more than one use?”

                “No Will, it’s just…” She sat there for a moment. “It’s just we haven’t seem to have made ANY progress on your mental stability.”

                “Well, why are you bothering?”

                “Because anyone who is going to be affiliated with the Facio must be abiding to the common law.”

                Thanks for formally using my real name Jen. Thanks. Way to make me sound like a crone.

                “But what about Maxwell?”

                She gulped. “Um…what about him?”

                “That’s what I’m asking you.”

                “But what exactly about him?”

                “That’s my question!”

                “Yes, I know, but what ABOUT him, Will?”

                “Jeez…who’s on first Jen?”

                I know what she’s doing though. She is deliberately avoiding bringing up Maxwell and his habits…and she really should, especially if we are trying to STOP Will from killing, not give him an idol. The only reason this kid’s not in jail is because I took him in.

                I wish Maxwell would just behave though…

Ace of Hearts

            This last card was very interesting. I liked how it was personal then others, when the names were touching upon Ritchie, Marv, and Audrey. It was probably a bit easier to solve than the others, since they are his friends, and he already knows what their problems were (except for Marv’s child, though, that was new information for Ed). However, I would guess executing the tasks were more difficult, since they were more on the personal level. How easy would it be telling your love you do in fact love them? Probably very hard. So that would probably be the challenge of this card. I also enjoyed the fact it was around Christmas time, so it almost acted like an additional Christmas gift for his friends. As they say, “Tis the season of giving”. Overall, Ed was giving hope.

            The most challenging, like I said in the previous paragraph (Or what I would guess, given it seems to be difficult) was confessing his love to Audrey. The way he did it was romantic too. And the love he received back was very touching indeed. This, however, disproved my theory that he would fall for Sophie.

            The fact Marv had a child shocked. My theory is that is why he’s a bit of a jerk all the time, and why he gets mad fairly easily; he’s probably stressing over the fact that he had left a child, and he was slowly making up for it using his forty-thousand dollars that he has been saving up, not even touching the account. It shows though how much he actually cares, and for that I like him a little more. And Ed confronting Marv’s girlfriend’s father about the way he was treating Marv, it showed how much he cares about what Marv is doing to fix the situation.

            This card was a card that was a bit of a transition. It started off with Ed nearly losing his mind over the Ace of Hearts. He heard and saw “hearts” everywhere, as he claims. I am not entirely cure what that meant, but my guess it would mean he could not stop thinking about this one card. It was probably because it was the last one, too, so he must have been afraid of what was the challenge to come from this card. But as we progress in this part, the mood is lifted as Ed makes miracle after miracle, helping his friends and having a good time during the holiday season.

            Whoever chose him to be the “messenger”, however, is very frightening to me. In order to know all the information they do, they would have to either be closer then Ed thinks, like a friend or family member, or be stalking him. I hope it is someone close to him, because the thought of someone stalking him and making these challenges for him to do is a bit unsettling. This would have to be something we would find out in the last part: The Joker.     

The following is an excerpt of a story I have recently written:


I do remember Elliot’s child. His name was Rupert, I believe. He was a rather happy child, and was always trying to do things to make others happy. One time when Elliot invited me for dinner with his family, his son came dashing into the living room, clown make up messily scribbled on his face, giggling happily. He hugged my legs tight and was so excited to see me. He was five at the time, and his brown hair was messy and curly, and his freckles were splattered across his cheeks.
And he kept those traits until recently. One night Elliot rushed three boys into the emergency room on stretchers. One of them, unfortunately, being his son. The boys were badly burned. I couldn’t see Rupert’s freckles, for they have been covered by blood from his wounds. His messy curly hair was now scorched. In fact, all three of the boys were in this condition. They received immediate treatment, however, only one survive. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Rupert.
These boys had passed at such a young age, too. THe other, Gordon, was fifteen, and Rupert was thirteen. We don’t know how, but they became short of breathing. It was hard to watch Elliot weep at his own son’s bedside. I remember when he first came here to America from England, he told me the many goals he had for here. One of them, very specific.
“I hope as well as any doctor with family would, that I should never have to work on one of my own family members.”
It’s unfortunate how that never came true. I put my hand on his shoulder as he cried, holding his son's hand firmly. I’m not even sure what happened exactly, but it must have been awful enough to take two out of three young boys’ lives. But, it isn’t my business, so I shouldn’t get involved with it.
Days later a man of about twenty years old had to have surgery, and Elliot and I were part of the team to do the procedure. And of course, we did, but it was a two part surgery, and only part one was done that day. After the fact, Elliot had stayed behind to do a check over.
Our procedure for part one involved mending the rib cage. Our patient had been hit by a city bus when on his way to his school, just nearby the campus, supposedly. Crushed his chest and fractured the skull upon landing. To be honest, I felt rather sorry for the kid.
So after Elliot had left the room I invited him into the cafeteria while we were on a break. I decided to ask the curious question on my mind.
"What exactly were you doing in the room after the surgery?"
He paused and sipped his coffee slowly. "Oh. Well, if I should be honest." Another pause. "I was wishing good luck. Telling him that we will try to fix everything."
"Why just try?"
"I...I'm sorry?"
"Trying suggests the possibility of failure."
All of a sudden he glared at me, enraged. However, it didn't really seem to look like him. It's like got...darker. Like, his tone just seemed very dark and his eyes...just dark. It also looked like the color of not only from his skin, but his clothes as well, have drained out of him a bit.
"We both know very well it could fail, Clyde." he growled at me.
I closed my eyes and took a breath. "I was just trying to be optimistic." When I opened my eyes again Elliot looked normal. As if he didn't just completely have pure hatred within him.
"Well, it is very much appreciated."
It didn't seem appreciated about thirty seconds beforehand.

Welcome To Fitzville

Book !, Chapter $

            That night S.I.M.O.N. had been awoken by his slumber by a horrid nightmare. Hearing his cry, and as a true leader and Bro, Joe rushed out of bed and to S.I.M.O.N.'s room. He knocked on the door and called for him. "Come in," replied S.I.M.O.N., trembling.

            When Joe entered the room, he found S.I.M.O.N. with his blanket around his body, as if he was hiding from something. Joe sighed. "Are you alright?"

            "Not really," he said, "To be honest, I'm a little chilly, and well I think I crapped my pants."

            Joe fell silent. "That's nice..." said Joe awkwardly.

            "Sorry. I just got really freaked out by my dream."

            "What happened in it?"

            S.I.M.O.N. sighed and moaned with disturbance. "Well, I was in dark place; it was mix between a lava pit and a cave. I was walking around and looking at different kinds of gems and minerals. They were glowing, and there was a trail of them running down a path. I followed the path to what looked like a spider's web, with fairies of my kind tied in the webbing. However, they shrieked at the sight of me, and told me to scram off, calling me a tyrant and such. But then I became aware of what they were truly screaming at."

            "What were they screaming at?"

            "Me."

            "Um...what?"

            "Let me elaborate."

            "Please do."

            "I turned around to see a giant...spider thing. It was like a half fairy half spider monster. It had a lower body of a spider, like a centaur but with spider legs instead of horse legs. But it had arms like mantis arms, except not green. They matched the color of the spider legs. But the exoskeleton, I guess, was almost rocky, because it looked like it grew off in chunks off the body, rather than having it naturally blend together."

            "This is very vivid detail for a dream."

            "Well, it happened. There were six more smaller mantis pincers on its back, again, looking a bit rock-like."

            "So, ultimately, it had sixteen legs?"

            "Yes for Mother Goose's sake can I finish the freaking story?"

            "Yes. Sorry."

            "Anyways, the most shocking part about this monster was his face and midsection."

            "Why the midsection?"

            "OH MY GOD JOE. SERIOUSLY."

            "I'm just saying, it's fairly specific."

            " And I'm just saying shut the hell up. Questions afterwards."

            "Very well."

            "Thank you. So, the midsection and face were very familiar to me, because well...it was me. Except with a bunch of red glossy eyes  on my chest and face, and I had these huge, like, three inch long fangs."

            "What was the color of the spider parts?"

            "Brow- wait why does it matter? You've been blind since the day you were born!"

            "Just making sure you're okay. Generally when you're in your, 'out of gourd freak out' moments, you tend to forget things like I'm blind, Will hears more voices then yours, and Cindy has three eyes."

            "Oh. Gotcha."

            "You seemed panicked."

            "Well, thank you for caring." S.I.M.O.N. sighed. "So anyway, upon looking at the...THING...I was terrified. Like, fell down terrified. It stood above me and uttered only a two words before it jabbed me with a pincer and I woke up; 'I'm waiting'."

            "Huh...interesting."

            S.I.M.O.N. grabbed Joe by the shoulders and shook him back and forth frantically. "What does this mean Joe?! What does this mean?!"

            

            Joe gently pushed S.I.M.O.N. away. "I don't know. Just please calm down, it might have been just a bad dream. 'Kay?"

            "Okay..."

            "Goodnight."

            "Goodnight." S.I.M.O.N. fell back asleep as he thought about happier thoughts, like other times when Joe stuck out for him. He was like an older brother to him, unlike the way he was to everyone else, which was a leader, even bossy.

            If only...

            My last dream of my very soul would be to live happily through life, no matter how short or long it is. I want to make it so that when I die, I know I left this world happy with my previous life. I want to complete everything I hoped to have done or started, so that my life, in my opinion, is coomplete.

            There many ways to keep myself happy. One way is for myself to never be lonely.  I want to meet new people and make new friends throughout. I wish to always have someone I can count of I ever do get lonely, to call or to text, or to even meet up with to converse. It also we keep my curiosity in check, meeting new people and exploring different cultures.

            Another thing to keep my spirits up would be doing whatever makes me satisfied; in other words, what I like to do. No matter what career I have, I want it to be in my interest, or something I personally find bewildering. My main two dream jobs that are the most expressive of my passion are to be a comic book artist, since I love to draw, and a geologist, since I have an interest in geology and rocks and minerals (It has always been my favorite subject in school, though one that I rarely learned about). Whatever career or activity, I want it to be enjoyable, to keep me positive, and, well, happy.

            And one last thing to keep me happy throughout my entire lifetime is to explore. I want to learn about the different ways that people live and the different environments around the world. They say knowledge is power, and learning new things in life could hopefully get me excited for the next day.

            In conclusion, life is something we only have one chance to do, so we must make it as worthy and possible. It will be easier to live and love if we do so. If you have a goal, go for it, if it makes you happy. Don't give up, don't let little things or people get you upset and make you want to give up; just do it. Be happy.   

Welcome To Fitzville

Book !, Chapter #

                       

            Ursela, Drake, and S.I.M.O.N. stood there staring at will as he came into the kitchen. Will glanced at them in confusion.

            "What?" he asked, "Is this your first time seeing me or something?"

            "No," said Ursela, "But at least put some semblance of an effort to be a little more careful when doing simple things, like perhaps, opening the door?"

            "Yeah, yeah, yeah, " Will yawned, "I know, I know, Ursela, I'm trying to be a good boy for you."

            "Oh for the love of-"

            "Stop!" shouted a low and stern voice from the hallway. Joe came into the kitchen. "Just stop now before the argument goes any further."

            "And entering the room is the commando king himself," mocked Will.

            Joe slowly shook his head in disappointment. "Will..."

            "What? Just stating fact."

            Joe rolled his eyes. "Will, I'm getting real tired this."

            Will sighed. "Tired of what, Joe?"

            "Your immaturity."

            Will looked at him in disgust. "Excuse me? Not all of us are born to be o-natural leaders!"

            "I understand that, but you ever so rarely take things seriously, especially the things that do need to be taken seriously."

            "Ugh, I'll TRY," groaned Will, "But don't, and I mean DON'T expect anything out of me."

            Joe pinched the top of his nose and sighed. "Alright, Will."

            "And I also absolutely LOVE the fight is my fault and my fault only."

            "Will, you know very well I didn't say that."

            "Doesn't matter, you thought it! I bet all I have that you though it!"

            "SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU!" screamed Cindy from the other room "OR ELSE I'LL COME IN THERE AND DO IT MYSELF!"

            Francine, who was sitting next to Cindy, tilted her head. "Well, technically you wouldn't have to leave the room for that. We're close enough, right?"

            Cindy raised her eyebrows at Francine, giving her a look of annoyance.

            "I'm just saying. To me, that's more threatening then going in there."

            Amber, sitting across from them on the couch, looked up from her book. "Well, just because she has the power, doesn't mean she has to use it."

            Francine tucked back her hair. "I say use them while you still have them, especially in the normal world. If you know what I mean."

            "Yeah, well it's not often accepted."

            "But you still have to-"

            "NO NO NO," interrupted Cindy. "NO NO NO NO NO DON'T EVEN START!"

            Amber and Francine stared at Cindy, then at each other, and shrugged.

            "Thank you," said Cindy. Then she got up and went into the kitchen. When she walked in she headed straight for the fridge. S.I.M.O.N. greeted her there, but he was in the form of a tiny butterfly.

            "Good to see you again, Cindy." said S.I.M.O.N., voice high pitched, fluttering around Cindy's head.

            "Ditto," said Cindy, chuckling, "Even though we've seen each other before, like, twenty minutes ago."

           

            "That's a good point," muttered S.I.M.O.N..

            "Is everything okay, S.I.M.O.N. ?" blurted out Cindy.

            S.I.M.O.N. paused. "What do you mean?"

            "Well, you kind of stabbed Drake," said Cindy while grabbing a can of soda, "As his girlfriend, I don't appreciate that."

           

            S.I.M.O.N. sighed. "I will be frank with you, I don't really know what that was."

            And neither do I.