Howdy, everyone! My name is maggictoast, but just call me maggic. So, I guess this is my first story, even though I've been lurking on this website for a while. You'll mostly see Adventure Time fics on this account because I'm a loser and this is the only fan base I really care enough about to write stories on. And, yes these stories will also most likely be Finnceline, because who wants to be cannon?To be honest I got a lot of my inspiration for a wonderful writer named RawrRoarRawr (If you like Finnceline, check them out), so I strive to be as good of a writer as them someday. Enough about me though, so here's what you came here for, mediocre fan writing!


Have you ever heard that stories are like string? They get tangled and stretched out, the more you pass them around. My brother once told me that, and at the time I couldn't grasp what he was getting at. He never spoke in riddles, much less did he throw in a metaphor or two. I was a kid then, wild and confused. His words mean more to me now, so I feel like it's appropriate for me to share my own piece of "string." This story has all different beginnings. Ask a logical thinker and they'll say it was human's idiodic acts that caused it. Ask an elder and they'll say it was Glob's doing. Ask me? Well, I say it all began with a scientist.


He had taken this job why? Studing global warming wasn't the most promising of all careers and the money wasn't over the top. So why? He wanted to make a difference. Ever since he was a boy, he knew he was going to change something someday. Finding a solution to global warming was the first thing that was presented to him after laboring six years through college. To think I could have been some nobody, mindlessly filing reports under the watchful eye of a corporate hawk! Science was good for him. It was a field where he could do whatever he pleased and would be called a genius for it. He got to work with people on the same intellectual level of his, and got free sandwiches. If only this didn't have to happen. He was quite content with his life and had no thoughts of changing it. Too bad, cooed fate.

Ding. Elevator doors hissed open and a young man stepped between its doors. He wasn't any older than 35, his smoky brown hair falling in light waves around his head, polished glasses sat upon a flushed nose. His long, sweeping lab coat covered a cashmere sweater and a pair of wrinkled beige slacks finished off his look. As he started off down the hallway the soft tapping of his business shoes were the only sound that could be heard. This lab was always barren after hours, many of the attending staff wanting to return home after their never ending day of experimenting. The man actually enjoyed the haunting peacefulness of the quiet halls and offices. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, gazing out of the cathedral windows that gave view to the summer landscape below. The twinkling lights of the town below gave him some consolation on what he was about to do. Looking down at his watch he duly noted the time. 11:55. Running a hand through his shaggy hair, he took off down the hallway again. For the third time of the hour, he checked inside a briefcase filled with papers on who knows what. Slipping a key out of one of his pockets, he reached out and unlocked a door with a name plate that read . Once inside, he felt around blindly for a light switch. Once finding it, the room was bathed in a yellow fluorescent light, after a pop from one of the fixtures. He walked over to a desk, sitting down in a worn leather chair. He picked up a small picture frame. In it was a picture of the man in question, some years earlier, with his arm wrapped around the waist of a grinning woman. A small smile stretched across his face as he places the picture back down. With a heavy sigh, the briefcase was hoisted onto the desk, and the papers taken out. Arranged in a line of twelve or so papers, there were thousands of lines of code. Out of one of the tightly locked drawers of his desk, the man pulled out a disk the size of a frisbee.

Upon pressing a button on the disk, a ray of violet light flashed out, scanning the retina of the man. A beep of recognition was emitted and the disk produced a keyboard of sorts made out of the same light that scanned the man. The keys shimmered and waved as the man began to type in the code on the sheets of paper. To this day people want to know what went wrong. Was there a miscalculation? A slip of the fingers? Or was this that outcome that was wanted? The disk emitted a ruby light and locked its interface. The man backed up in disbelief as his door was smashed open by a gust of chilling wind. Papers, pens, rulers and other supplies were knocked to the ground as the wind picked up. The panes of the windows rattled and shattered behind the man. Jumping back, he narrowly avoided being smacked by an office chair. Lightbulbs smashed and shattered above his head. A light shot out of the eye of the device and bathed the room in a maroon glow. All the items in the room seemed to be pulled towards the light. What have I done? The last thing the man remembered was a flash of blinding light. Those all over the world would be left to live with his mistakes. Snow started to fall in July and never stopped, and a young man was left frozen, mortified with a watch that read 12:01.


R & R?