AN: And here are some extras. It started with indecision on how to end this series and spawned into some 'why not' optional endings. None of them are canon to the fic (unless you want them to be), but some of them accidentally strung themselves together as I wrote them. Enjoy!
Life is but a Dream
Max shuffled away from the bed towards his hoodie that Gwen or David had left hanging on a chair. He winced as bruises made themselves known while he pulled the blue hoodie on.
*crinkle*
He blinked as something made a noise in his pocket. Reaching in, he pulled out a small, folded piece of stiff paper.
He frowned as he unfolded it and turned it to the image.
…
…
His concussion must be still messing with his eyes. He rubbed at them furiously, blinking away the slight headache behind his temple and stared back to the picture.
…
…
Nope.
Definitely not. Not at all!
Not. At. All.
…
He heard footsteps approaching and deftly tucked it into his hoodie pocket again.
As he stood, poker-face in place in the (angry) face of Gwen scolding him for getting out of bed ("You're concussed, Max! Like, 80% of my hospital dramas say it's a bad idea to move.").
His mind was a million miles away.
Or… really just as far as his left-hoodie pocket.
Because there was definitely not a photo of him with a long, black monkey tail snaking from his jeans next to a pink-wearing David-warlock in front of a ruby-colored magical-arrow-lit fire with a multitude of others including Nikki-Beast, Neil-Crow, and Terror-from-Space Kid.
...
He numbly let Gwen lead him back into the bed, thankfully without taking off his hoodie. She walked out giving one last 'I'm-watching-you' sign with her fingers.
Max let his eyes droop shut.
They fluttered back open.
An excited cat/hog/dog was bounding over from a treeline.
"MAX! C'mon, race ya to the treetop!"
His tail twitched behind him as he chased after.
Down the Rabbit Hole
Max blinked confusedly as he awoke.
He was in some kind of… parlor room?
He was laid out on some kind of fancy-ass sofa and from his position, he could see a couple plushy chairs set up around a table across the room with a huge spread of fancy, British-type food. Like, cucumber sandwiches, cookies, tiny cakes, and shit.
And for some f*cking reason; an entire, f*cking huge-ass ham almost buried in under a mountain of (he could smell it from there) ground black pepper.
What. The. F*ck?
He glanced down-
"The F*CK?"
Who the f*ck put him in some goddamn powder-blue dress!?
Oh, God, was he wearing a girdle?!
"Stranger! You're awake!"
He blinked up at the people in front of him.
…
He swore to f*cking God, his brain would melt out his ears by now.
A familiar, red-head was standing worriedly over him with an enormous, lime-green tophat and a cup of tea. Beside him, a moody, Latina co-buddy-for-life was in some poofy dress covered in hearts with her patented 'resting bitch-face' in full effect.
"Hiyastrangergollywhat'syournameimmaharedidyouknowidrinktoomuchcaffeine?!"*
A face bounded in front of him. A green-haired girl with a manic gleam in her buzzing eyes waved her hands in his face, showing off the tattered remains of a suit a couple sizes too large for her. Her head sprouted two, crooked green bunny ears.
Beside her, a pale, lanky boy in an immaculate blue waistcoat getup fretted with a pocketwatch. "Oh, dear, stranger you really came at a most inopportune time." His own, straight white rabbit-ears twitched nervously with the ticking watch.
Out of one nightmare and right into another.
"God. F*cking. Dammit."
"Stranger! Language!"
"Suck it, Camp-Man! You too, heart-bitch!"
"OFF WITH THAT LITTLE SHIT'S HEAD!"
"Now, now. I'm sure we can calm down after some lovely tea."
"I'd rather have the f*cking beheading, camp-man."
"WOOO! Blood-sport!"
"Nikki, NO!"
[*"Hiya stranger golly what's your name i'mma hare did you know I drink too much caffeine?"]
Through the Looking Glass
Max woke with a gasp.
He took stock of the room around him. Through the bleariness of a pounding headache, he could see familiar characters surrounding him.
"Goddammit! You already beheaded me, bitch, what f*cked-up thing did you do now?!" He roared, pointing at the blurry Latina at his bedside.
"Uh, Max? That was a dream, kid," reassured a soft, but confused voice.
The camper blinked hard and squinted as the room came back into focus. The Queen of Resting-Bitch-Face wasn't at his bedside. It was Gwen. Like, normal, smut-fanfic writing, God-I-Hate-This-Job, master of Resting-Bitch-Face Gwen.
He was back in the cabins of Camp Campbell.
Last he remembered from his extremely weird 'dream', he'd gotten all the way to the Heart Kingdom castle, stood trial for some f*cking reason, escaped, slayed some jabber-wookie or something, and was put on the chopping block by the ungrateful Queen for doing it on the wrong f*cking day! How was he supposed to know it wasn't some "Fantabulous Day" or some shit.
Didn't know fighting for your life had to follow a strict schedule. The white-rabbit Neil would probably argue otherwise in the weird circular logic rambling he did.
Anyways, his last memory was an executioner's axe being raised over his head and then the entire f*cking wall of the castle is broken down by David the Hatter, an excitable March-Nikki-Hare, and Neil-rabbit clinging to some kind of huge, f*cking bird. Behind them Nerris the Cute (some mystic or some shit they met in this racist origami ant place) had a spell ready and raring.
Just as the axe started speeding down towards his neck, the spell shot straight at him, he felt his world invert like he was being pulled through a straw-
-and then he woke up.
Max numbly listened to Gwen and David explain how Harrison's Magic Show went wrong (no f*cking surprise) and he was out of it for all afternoon. They did a few more first and second-aid checkups before they left to handle the rest of the campers.
Max slid out of bed and shuffled on his clothes. Gwen explicitly told him to stay in bed and not run around, given a possible concussion, so he naturally left the medical cabin hands-in-pockets.
Glancing around, he still felt a little… disconnected with everything. In the distance he could make out the general Activities area and everyone hanging out at their shitty, hobbled-together stations doing their thing. It was maybe a couple dozen yards away from the cabins, but it felt further.
He made his way to the indoor-outhouse of the camp bathrooms. It was grimy, grungy, and as everyone agreed, had seriously subpar indoor plumbing. Like he said; indoor-outhouse. Still, it had probably the only mirror in camp not used up at Preston's area and he felt like his brain would probably burst out of his skull if he heard the loud thespian's voice right now.
He poked at the circle of bandages keeping a pad of gauze pressed up to his head.
Turning on the faucet, he put his hands under the stream to splash some cold water on his face, helping to wash away any leftover bleariness.
*FWOOSH!*
"AH, WHAT THE F*CK!"
He quickly pulled his hand back as the faucet decided 'you know what; f*ck this kid' and blasted boiling hot water while his hands were still under the stream for more water. He held them up, experimentally squeezing his fingers together. A little scalded, but not bad.
On the other hand, the mirror fogged up like crazy.
Angrily, he twisted the scorching metal faucet handle with a nearby (grungy) towel and choked the malicious faucet's stream.
He hopped on the porcelain sink and used his hoodie sleeve to wipe away the misty cover to the mirror-
"HIYA MAX!"/"JESUS!"
He scrambled back and landed painfully on the floor when a face appeared in the small circle in the fog.
It had a familiar snout, tusks, and floofy sea green hair.
"C'mon! Time's a-wastin' and Warlock David can't hold this up forever!"
She pulled away and the remaining steam evaporated from the mirror's surface as the glass seemed to liquefy and ripple.
Max stood dumbstruck.
…
*slap!*
"Nope, still real!" He exclaimed to himself, rubbing a hand over the cheek he just slapped.
The mirror was still a rippling mess in front of him.
He could hear Nikki-Beast and Space Kid calling for him.
His tail twitched to mirror his thoughts.
The bathroom grunge was still ever-present.
His bandages were-
…
Like moving a phantom limb, his long, black tail snaked in front of him.
…
"Max, c'mon! What are you waiting for?!"
…
"Eh, fuck it."
And he jumped through the looking glass.
We're Off to See the Wizard
Max woke with a start.
He sat up suddenly, taking inventory of his surroundings. It was some kind of house, but both more and less advanced than Camp. It was modern in that 'minimalist' shit kind of way. Barely a couple sofas in a meeting area, a table, a kitchen area, and some cube-looking electric lamps hung from the ceilings with a staircase leading to an upper level. It was cozy, in a way. Except it was really hot and humid, with a heavy, earthy smell permeating the room to compete with potted orchids set nearby.
He sat up from the lounge couch he was laid out on and noticed the balcony through a few of those Asian sliding-door things.
Pushing them aside, he blinked in shock at what was outside the balcony around him. Lush, green mountains surrounded what looked like a small city that was pretty much built right into the sides of a mountain of its own. Stormy-looking clouds billowed from above with stray low-lying ones actually passing through the city itself like a fog bank.
The buildings were all white with distinctly Asian accents set in cobbled roads. The roofs were slanted and curvy pagoda-styles, but with metal embellishments and additions that made it feel a lot more modern.
Well, if the literal flying ships occasionally buzzing to and from the city were any indicator, it was probably either the future or some f*cking parallel universe.
In which case- shit.
"Max?"
He turned around to see a girl walking towards him in something straight from a Renaissance Fair. A black skirt, black corset, and a billowing red cloak with a silver emblem pinned to it.
He was immediately drawn to her unusual, silver eyes.
"Eh, Max? You okay?"
"Who are you?"
"…"
"…"
"UNCLE QROW!"
Beside them, the sounds of multiple things breaking and stumbling were heard as a man broke through the doors to the balcony.
"RUBY! What is it?!" He landed in a battle stance and pulled out a GIANT F*CKING SWORD!
"Max lost his memory!"
"…"
"…"
"… kid?" He sighed, putting away the sword to his back, "don't scare us like that right now, 'kay? We're already on high alert and I'm not too happy with Lionheart dragging his feet."
"But I'm not-"
"Hey, guys, what's going on?!" A bubbly voice called out.
Max turned towards the entrance (read; hole in the wall sword-guy made) as three other figures walked in. A blond guy in white and bronze armor with a sword (seriously, what's with the swords?!), a girl with bright orange hair and a pink dress who just spoke, and a… girl (?) with a green tunic, long black hair and a magenta streak on one side.
"Max lost his memory and now we're never gonna do whatever Ozpin was talking about and then the Grimm will take over the world and we'll be-"
"Ruby! Ruby, slow down," the blonde said, taking her shoulders.
"I agree," The GUY (!?) with the pink stripe added in a deep voice. "Let's not jump to conclusions-"
"The f*ck are you people?" Max snarked.
The tone shifted to silence as eyes returned to him.
"Who are you people? Why the f*ck do you have f*cking swords? Are you a girl or a dude? Where am I? And What the F*CK IS GOING ON?!"
He panted as he finally finished, the rest of the group was in stunned silence… and a fair amount of dread.
"I believe, as the kids say these days; 'Well, shit'."
"AND WHO THE F*CK IS IN MY HEAD?!"
You Ever Wonder Why We're Here?
Max suddenly woke up.
He was standing, which was weird.
He was tall, which was weird.
He was in a f*cking orange battle armor, which was weird.
And he was on the edge of a huge-ass metal compound in the middle of what looked like a poorly-rendered video game box canyon arena.
He noticed a guy next to him in similar armor, just red.
"Hey, you ever wonder why we're here?"
Monkey See; Monkey Do-What-Now?
Max woke up with a jolt.
Something wasn't right.
He couldn't put his finger on it, but something… was…
He stared down at his hand.
Specifically, the arm it was attached to.
The absolutely jacked arm it was attached to.
He scrambled out of bed, barely realizing the cramped space he woke up in that had three other beds with figures slumped in them shuffling into action with the morning out the window. A side-door revealed a bathroom and he barreled his way inside for the mirror.
…
He raised a hand to his face and gently poked his cheekbone. The figure in the mirror copied it.
Ho-ly shit.
His dark skin was almost white, but sunkissed several shades darker. His curly black hair was gone, replaced with sweeping, messy blonde. The tail he remembered leaving Oz with was now blonde to match his hair and swept around like it had a mind of its own. He was at least late-teens now.
But most of all.
He was absolutely f*cking shredded.
Seriously! Abs for days!
"Uh, Sun?"
"Huh?" Max turned around to see a handsome guy with blue (Oh, God, was it naturally blue?!) hair rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"You okay? Bad dream or something?"
"… yeah… sure…" Oh, thank God, his voice was still the same, just deeper. Manlier.
Nice.
"Uh, well, Sage and Scarlet are getting ready for the combat area. You wanna tag along?" Max glanced behind him at the two figures shuffling their boots and… weapons on?!
"Oh, and I polished up your staff, for ya," Neptune scowled playfully as he tossed it at him. It lightly thwacked his head, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you won the bet, but how was I supposed to know she was… y'know… batting for the other team when I started flirting?"
Max didn't know what to say and just let the guy take it as he would, laughing and walking out the bathroom door.
Max stared down at the weapon in his hands. An actual weapon! He found a clasp on the side that he pressed and the staff split into a pair of f*cking nunchucks and… oh, shit no way!
He twirled them around with some kind of ingrained autopilot and hefted the two confirming they were guns!
Seriously! Guns!
"Sun, you coming? If we find that Winchester guy, we can beat his ass into the cement for that faunus slur he said yesterday. Be good to let off steam."
"Uh, yeah, be right there, man!" He replied, jogging to the front door.
Seriously, he hit the multiverse jackpot on this one!
Monkey tail. Check.
Drop-dead handsome. Check.
Pubescent legs. Check-at-f*cking-last.
Absolutely ripped! Check.
A universe where violence is not only accepted, but encouraged to express his darker aggression issues. Check!
A staff weapon! Check!
Nunchuks! Check!
Nunchuk-guns?! Gun-chucks?! F*cking Gravy!
He felt his old-self's trademarked Evil Grin curl onto his new face as he cocked the guns and twirled them back into their staff form.
Yeah, he could get used to this.
AN: NOW this is the ending!
It's been great everyone!
This is Crow, signing off of this work.
.
Sincerely,
~The Smiling Crow
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