Probably going to go and re-write/edit some of my previous chapters, shortly after you read this.
If I am not uploading chapters, it's probably because I'm editing my current chapters. (Or at least, this is my excuse for now).
And if I'm not there, I'm probably dead, eating food...
Or really lazy.
Maxwell yawned as he dragged himself through the mostly empty dirt plains. Apparently, sleeping for thirteen hours straight wasn't as helpful as it seemed to be. To say he was disappointed would be a understatement.
Grrr...
"Man, I should have taken some food before I left," the black-skinned man muttered to himself, holding his stomach in an effort to calm it down. The added fact that Maxwell had expended his powers earlier wasn't helping matters.
Grrrrrr...
Obviously, altering one's appearance took quite a bit of power for it to be a permanent fix. And that wasn't really what his ability was meant to do. Fixing particular conditions, that is.
But Maxwell didn't have time to be worrying about small matters like those. He had to get some kind of nutrition and fast. Or else, he would probably have to resort to eating his own arm; which he was very attached by the way. And it would be painful, that too.
Now this left only one reasonable option left; giving up his body to Akir- No, bad idea. It was just as disgusting as he was. Dealing with it right now would only implicate matters. But this was a man who was used to eating three bowls of cereal in one sitting. Sooner or later, drastic measures, no matter how revolving they were would have to be taken.
GrRrRrRrRr...!
Maxwell squeezed his stomach even closer to his body. In his current state, if his body began rumbling again, he wouldn't have any more "squeezes" left! And that would be a bad end. And if a monster girl found him that would be the big bad.
"SuGaR..."
After what seemed like centuries of meaningless walking, Maxwell finally reached an area that resembled civilization. A few rooftop houses scattered here and there. Strange how people built their houses up in the trees. The majority of people here didn't really strike Maxwell as rock-climbers, to say the least. But what mattered was not the outward appearance, but what was on the inside.
Whether it be food, money or any valuables. Mainly food, though.
"Time to go back to primal routes," Maxwell commented as he approached one of the many trees in the area. Sometimes parkour did come in handy, even if people were routinely trying to get you on some kind of suicide watch-list.
Moving around the tree, he felt around for a ledge; something to push himself up against. Or maybe he could take the dodgy looking rope ladder beside it. Now this is the break I deserve. Giving the rope ladder an experimental tug, the man frowned as it all came tumbling down like jenga blocks.
"So much for small breaks in lifeā¦" Maxwell began to slowly scale the tree, much like his ancestors would have done thousands of years ago. Swatting away a few annoying bugs, he made his way up to the living quarters.
The black-skinned man pulled himself up with a mighty wheeze, relieved that food was only a quick hop and a step away. Maxwell dragged himself over to the door, taking in the lack of knobs on them. Low security, much? He then pushed the doors open, allowing them to swing much like the ones at a 24 hour convenience store.
Taking in a deep breath, Maxwell immediately recoil as scents assaulted his nose. Freakin' smells like nature up in this shit. What is this, vegans 2? The smell of dirt tree sap and bark lingered strongly in the air, despite him being inside the structure. "Nature fanatics. If all they have are twigs and berries, I'm gonna burn this shit down."
Moving further into the house, Maxwell noticed the wide-sized furniture. He allowed himself a chuckle at the thought of 'plus-sized' women climbing they're way up, causing the trees to wobble with the extra strain. But that didn't make sense; people didn't get fat from living off the land, they got that way by living off the meat, if you get what he's thinking.
Stepping into the kitchen, Maxwell caught whiff of a familiar morning scent. A delectable ingredient, one that goes well with Nutella on toasted bread. His mouth began salivating at the thought.
Oh so sweet, Honey.
Wasting not a single second, the man went straight for the drawers, rummaging through them and throwing aside any invalid items. His pupils dilated, causing him to increasingly appear as a feral beast. Maxwell didn't leave anyplace untouched in his frenzy-like state.
Glasses, plates, chairs, the freaky bdsm outfit under the sink. Maxwell did not discriminate.
His efforts showed fruition as he leaped out of the stone oven, soot on face and sticky satchel in hand. Not bothering to waste time opening it, Maxwell teared through the leather with his canines, lapping up the sticky goodness as it flowed out from the tiny opening. With sugar flowing through his system, the black-skinned man slowly regained control of his body, fully appreciating the sweetness such fresh honey was able to deliver.
Man that was good...
With his hunger satisfied, Maxwell could think more clearly now. Looking at the mess around him and carefully going through various simulations, he concluded that the best option would be to just leave this fine establishment and never look back. He was nobody's maid, that's a given. Someone else could deal with the mess. "In fact, there. Compensation." The man left two crumbled twenty dollar bills on the table, fully aware that his currency was useless here.
At least it makes me seem less like an arse, right? Maxwell thought, feeling the effects of an invisible audience. Then he looked down at his shirt. "Shit."
Despite everything that happened, it appeared that his favored and only jacket couldn't resist the classic soot in the fire stove. "How the hell does ol' saint nick get down that chimney, lookin' all fresh? My man's got that God mode I tell you..." Maxwell dampened one of the few rags lying in the kitchen and and brought it up to his face, wiping the filthiness off of it.
"Sister, didn't you tell me you were coming home late today...?"
Maxwell stiffened and slowly turned around, his eyes connecting with the owner of the voice. To his surprise, it wasn't the monstrous plus-sized woman he had expected but it was almost just as bad. It explained the wide-sized furniture. It was a harpy; with her hair tied up and light-red colored feathers covering all the sensitive bits. "Censoring is quite the tool," he muttered under his breath.
But first he had to deal with this... thing. First things, first; talk believable bullshit. "You see, I am cosplaying. As a human."
That explanation seemed to have flown right over her pea-sized brain. "Woah! She actually brought me a human to play with! I'm gonna give him the kisses and then, were gonna do the naughty-"
Maxwell snapped his fingers. "Hey, hey! I'm like, right here y'know." Kinda feels weird be talked about like this by such a young individual... but not Russell weird. But it be like that pedo flow, though.
The young harpy blinked as if a bright strobe light had just flashed her at point-blank range. Settling herself she asked, "Why do you look strange? You look like a piece of bread after my Sis pulls it out of the oven. This must mean my Sis really, really loves me since she brought me a specia-"
"Woah, woah, woah! We are so not going down that route!" Maxwell once again interjected. Races were obviously a high political matter not meant for the young, budding minds of the world to even acknowledge. So he obviously had to downgrade his language. "It's just a... genetic thing. Ignore it."
Educating kids about races, the true and family friendly way! Might've been a good marketing idea, if it weren't for the fact that he was literally worlds away from the playing field. Or the marketing field.
Anyway, it was time to leave the area. Nourishment had been cared for and there wasn't any reason to be putting himself on a list. Maxwell also had to get back to doing what he did best, annoying the locals, while following some incoherent plan! But first came, misdirecting this little harpy. Shouldn't take an inch of effort, considering that she hadn't acknowledged the misplaced items at all.
"Hey, here," Maxwell brought her attention to him, waving a hand as one might do to their pet. "If you close your eyes and stand there till the count of ten, I'll bring out an even bigger surprise for you."
"Oh, oh really?" She gushed out in a cheerful, child-like tone. She then brought her feathers up to her face and began to count. "Are you ready, mister? One, two..."
Time for the finishing act, I call it: The Houdini And with that, Maxwell dipped. Dashing towards the door, ricketing the wood underneath, he lunged towards the ground like a primal beast. Landing on all fours he immediately 'picked up the pace', kicking up dust and heading towards wherever his senses took him.
"...seven, eight..."
Once again, I walk this path alone. Even if I don't know what 'path' I'm on! Maxwell hummed as he trekked in the woods. Usually on treks like this, he would listen to some kind of music on the side, but seeing as he didn't have a music player, he had to settle for humming his tunes instead.
Hell was a solo trip.
After about half an hour of transversing across the uneven landscape, Maxwell was met with an interesting sight. Spread out across the forest floor was the remains of a human being. Rather it was an empty vessel with out an soul to inhabit it.
A thick trail of blood leading from behind the nearby tree clearly showed that the man had struggled in vain before being brutally torn apart from the waist upward. Apparently, there had been some hot sexy, freaky inter-species sex and the end result wasn't too pleasant for the man- if the blood puddling right where his crotch used to be meant anything.
Maxwell was neither appalled by the slaughter, nor was he consumed by an overbearing rage at the expense of another. He simply stared at the remains, as he moved in closer to get a better look. At was inside his pockets, of course.
Blood caked his hands as he rummaged through the former man's pants. Just as a disclaimer, no homosexual bro. Just doin' my job.
"Let's see, we got some... cards?" Maxwell voiced out in bewilderment, as he pulled out the thin metal objects from the pocket. He then flipped one of them over to read the text on it. "Traveling mercenary for hire, Verdez Maquis? Who the hell be this man?"
And with a name like that, you probably deserved to die. Sunlight reflected of the shiny metal as the man held it up to the sky. He could see that a lot of work had gone into the making of this... now rather useless business card. But no matter how nice it may appear as, it wasn't of any worth to Maxwell as he clearly didn't own this business!
So he placed it in his pocket. Maybe stealing the business could come into play.
But at that moment his eyes took notice of a paper sticking of the man's coat, which was further up along the path. Moving closer to it, he noticed the ever-so present stench of death grow stronger. The smell was akin to strong nail polish remover and feces, wrapped up into a nausea-inducing gas bomb for your worst enemy to enjoy. Maxwell covered his nose with the green undershirt and began breathing through his mouth.
Bleh, death smells like... well death. With this astute observation in hand, the man walked up to 'Verdez's' upper torso, and was met with a revolting sight. The torso had been gutted as if it were livestock, organs and blood alike spilling out of the opening.
With a reluctant hand, Maxwell quickly and cleanly swiped the paper from the man's shirt pocket. "Man, that was anticlimactic. Almost expected some weird alien thing to ambush me." He took a few steps back, flipping open the letter while doing so.
[I have heard of your services and would like you to take care of a monster that has been terrorizing our merchants. Though I am sure you have already heard this from various rumors, but it is confirmed that we have a roper girl level threat. Sh- no it appears to be attacking anyone that attempts to go through the route to Enrika. Obviously, this has been a major blow to my business and relations. As we have discussed in detail, you will get 70 gold as a starting pay and 687 for completing the deed. I wish the best of luck to you and hope that you accomplish this task. Please bring the head of this vile beast back to Iliasburg so I can confirm the completion of this task.
Best Regards from, Phelep R. Diegnet.]
And in the far left corner of the letter there was a seal depicting some kind of soaring eagle, stamped in red.
"Well, it didn't look like this wen't too well for him..." Maxwell commented as he glanced back at the man's fallen body. He quickly skimmed over the letter again. "...but this looks like a great opportunity for me!"
Of course, I might have to have some words about this 'Phelep' fellow but I could probably just take this guy's quest, business and money all in one fell swoop. But da hells a Roper girl? Do they use ropes like cowboy's in them good ol' western movies? The man folded the letter and placed it in his pocket along with the business card. "Time to follow that trail! The blood trail."
And so Maxwell continued his way, walking along on the trail of blood drops that had been helpfully dropped for his assistance.
"Ok, where is this roper thing!? I got kids to feed!" Maxwell shouted as he cut through dense forest. Moving along an uneven, overgrown landscape was annoying when it seemed like mosquitoes kept going for your ears. Damn buggers.
He sat down on a stump, letting a sigh escape his mouth. The blood trail had ended a few good steps back so, it was up to random luck and reasoning to get the job done. However, those weren't exactly his strong suits in the field. "I'm just about to giv... The frik!"
Maxwell felt a thick tentacle latch around his ankle. Thinking quickly, he twirled himself around in a direction opposite to the one that the tentacle followed. Though this left him a bit dis-orientated, he was free from the tentacle's slimy grasp. "Who is this?" Maxwell asked.
In response, he heard laughter ring out through the forest, the source of the tentacles emerging from the dense forest. Her lower body was a tall, green and red fleshy pillar that emitted a foul smelling liquid at any visible pore. Along side her body were various tentacles, each as long as she was tall.
The top half of her body consisted of an armless torso of a woman with purple hair and a generous bust. But the fact that her lower body looked like an experiment gone wrong, completely ruined anything she might have going for her.
"Oh you don't know who I am~?" She said, in a slow and condescending way, as if she were looking down on child. "Why I'm a roper, of course~ It seems that I get to have two meals in one day, why how lucky me~"
She's a roper?! What a misleading name but at least I know who's head to take now. Maxwell tensed up his muscles as her tentacles overlooked his vision. "Why don't you surrender? It will be painless and quick death."
"Oh, really?" The roper girl brought her tentacles back behind her, outstretching them. And with a vicious sneer she continued, "Well, I just happen to think you would do the dying much more successfully!" With that final phase, threw of her tentacles then surged forward, overlapping each other with incredible speed.
"Do you want is die?" Maxwell met their charge and ducked under two of them, allowing them to overshoot their target. Moving ever so closer to the roper girl, he slid against the remaining tentacle, much like when you get pushed against a wall and move along with the flow. The downside was that it left sticky, slime residue that he'd have to clean later.
The roper girl seeing this, brought her tentacles back and utilized the once she had kept back, surrounding Maxwell from various angles. When it looked like he had just ran into his demise, the man leaped up and used one her tentacles as a stepping stone, sending him flying right towards her. With the appropriate attack range gained, Maxwell brought his elbow against the roper's nose, the force causing her to fall backwards.
"And here I thought you were all that, but your'e losing to someone like me!"
Growling, she brought a tentacle against Maxwell's gut, sending him flying through the canopy. Branches pierced and slashed against his face, as gravity took hold of him and brought him down to earth.
The man spat out the dirt in his mouth, as he pushed himself back to a walking stature. "It appears that you are the ultra big gay," he rationalized, seeing the tentacles push the roper back to her towering height.
"You are more resilient than my last meal..." The roper girl said, gazing over Maxwell with hunger in her eyes. Her tentacles slowly rose up once more. "But the outcome will still end with my victory!"
Seeing the tentacles shoot forward, Maxwell back-flipped, avoiding a low lying tentacle. Unfortunately, being in air doesn't allow one a full range of motion, creating an opportunity which the roper didn't overlook. Her tentacles latched unto the man's legs, dragging him towards her. She leaned forward so that the two were eye to eye. The other tentacles pinned Maxwell's arms to his sides and did the same to his legs.
"It seems that you are the one who has been caught," she sneered, poking the man's chest with a tentacle. "But don't worry, I let you enjoy this as much as I do." A tentacle began to slither up into Maxwell's pants.
"Woah, woah no!" Maxwell brought his head down onto the roper girl's own, causing her to reflexively let him go, her limbs recoiling. "This must be a safe place for youngins. Now I will die you!" He held his head with a hand. And there is no winner in a headbutt...
"You little shit!" The roper lashed out, Maxwell gaining her full fury. "I was just going to let you have some happy times before sending you off. But now," she paused to allow herself to shudder with rage, "I am going to tear you into a new one."
How do you know of that phase-! The man was interrupted with an attack from above, him sidestepping the sudden attack. Earth and dust flew up, clouding his vision. He then felt a sudden barrage of tentacles lash out on him, sending him flying into a tree.
"Augh! This is deathpacito!" Maxwell exclaimed, his body rebounding from the impact. Struggling to get back up, he was forced to suddenly duck n' roll, three tentacles impaling the space that he had previously occupied. The black skinned man reached into his back pocket, pulling out the metal business card from earlier.
"Do you think that little thing's going to do something?!" Tentacles flew forward once again as the man slowly got back off his knees.
Maxwell's expression intensified, a wide grin fighting its way unto his face. "..." Spotting the offending tentacles, the man somersaulted, allowing the two to harmlessly fly overhead. Using the momentum to carry him forward, the man swiped the card on one of her eight outstretched tentacles, much like what you'd do at the checkout.
The results was a nice clean cut and the roper's tentacle falling off. It fell with a thud. A green pus-like substance flowed from the point of sever.
She shrieked in pain as her tentacles wildly convulsed in the air.
"Checkout."
Maxwell, not giving her anytime to recuperate, went in for the second tentacle. The roper girl realized what Maxwell was doing too late, and was paid with the loss of another one of her limbs. Her brow was so furrowed that Maxwell thought if it grew anymore it'd make her face look akin to a newborn's.
The roper girl flailed wildly, the immense pain clouding any rational thought process. Maxwell felt that he was no longer fighting a monster; he was fighting a feral beast. Do enough damage and anyone can become one. I guess. Philosophical ideas weren't one of his strong points.
The man slid to the right, avoiding the tentacles that were coming down like pillars of a damaged building. Apparently, the roper girl had given up with tactics and was juts resorting to trying to turn him into a bloody paste. "Haha! Got ya!" Maxwell swiped the card against one of the tentacles, this time causing it to rupture with pus.
"Raugh!" It seemed that the roper girl did not appreciate this act and once more began to flailing wildly.
Maxwell just laughed at the sheer desperation of this antic, further increasing the roper's displeasure. "Look, me and you, we had some fun. But now it is time to put an end to the fun stuff." He immediately charged forward, closing the distance between him and the roper girl.
Using the card of business, the black-skinned man knocked aside any tentacles that were in his way. Once Maxwell got close to the main body, he circled the roper's body and grabbed her by the hair, causing her to yowl in pain as she came tumbling to the ground. Once she hit said ground, the man wasted no time in planting his foot atop her neck. He then applied pressure.
Instead of her tentacles coming to her aid and ridding the menace like she wished they would, they began to twitch excessively, not unlike an ant's limbs after death. The damage she had taken had built up; the nose, the severed tentacles, the rupture and now her windpipe. Trying to breath, it provided futile as Maxwell only widened his grin and the pressure he was putting on her windpipe.
"Well, now that was no boss fight. Oh yea, I forgot something." Maxwell brought his card full swing, holding it upright in the air. "I did say you would be getting a quick and painless death... Sorry 'bout that, mind tends to go places when I be fighting, y'know."
He felt the roper girl's struggle increase tenfold, which didn't amount to much as she was already weakened to begin with. "..Peas.. .l..t ..liv..e.." Maxwell rose an eyebrow, hearing what would be her last 'words'.
"Let you live? What kind of honorary monster asks that?! Acting like you're the best, but then you get wasted by a puny human. I will eliminate you for the good of the genepool and more importantly, my wallet," the man said in an arrogant and condescending manner. Maxwell lifted his foot off her neck, but held her throat in place with a hand nearly instantaneously. The act caused the roper to reflexively exhale the remaining oxygen within her lungs. "And then, there were none."
The roper girl gasped empty air.
A downward arc was all that followed.
