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Too many pages to upload at once. Plus, NG sometimes decides to not upload my art and I gotta do it all over again.
SO yeah. See ya, NG.
So it's been a while. Since I've, uh, made a post on here. And I make posts on here because it's cool to see that it's quick and easy to type on here.
So what have I been doing? In short, not a lot. Just TF2 and art. I got SAI to work again, because I put it on a lower stabilizer. That only took me three months to figure out.
Also, I want to point out that while I will be posting the webcomic here on NG, I will also be posting other art (sketches, etc.) to my art tumblr: http://maximusdraws.tumblr.com/ I post the art here, along with exclusive sketches. I also made a blog for the webcomic: http://tothemaxwebcomic.tumblr.com/
And, of course, all serious works (like my good art) will be sent to my DA: http://iamm2.deviantart.com/ along with the webcomic.
So that's it. Bye.
Updates will now be on my Twitter, along with retweets and other art. https://twitter.com/MaximusatTwitta
Page 2 finished. Go read it below.
Am now working on Page 3.
You hear that? Yeah. I made one. The first page is here. Go check it out. http://iamm2.deviantart.com/art/To-The-Max-Page-1-509249258
Or, check out my Tumblr for the comic, my art, and all the other crazy shit I reblog.
Currently in the process of making Page 2.
I'm going to give you guys a little taste of what is to come in my series, mainly this little "book" I've been writing. Now, I'm going to give you the prologue and the first chapter, since I could only work on them for now. But regardless, here you go!
I was killed.
In cold blood.
It was him.
I don’t care.
I WANT HIS HEAD.
What am I now?
Who am I?
I don’t say that.
They have no father now.
Xylene, Xavier, Kristal, Somala…
Who will look after them?
I hear nothing.
I only see…
At the end of a tunnel.
I can’t stop moving toward it.
And then, it’s gone.
And then, I fall.
Back to earth.
Then, the ground.
He opened his eyelids slowly, similar to the way a man wakes up after a long nap. He woke up in a room of darkness. He could see nothing. He also felt nothing. His muscles felt numb; his eyes felt dry. He felt cold air slide off his face as he sat up from the large table he lay on. It was frigid, cold air, one that would make most men to curl up into a ball. However, he was no ordinary man; he knew. He was a dragon. A dragon like no other. He is an humanoid dragon, capable of human speech and thinking, only that he has a human form, and he can blend in with human society just fine. He is also the richest man in the world, and is extremely wealthy, at the least.
However, he did not care for who he was at the time-nor did he know who he was. He remembered his name, all of a sudden.
Maximus Draginis. That was his name. He has a family of three and he is also the leader of a mercenary group composed of aliens, dragons, reapers, and other beings of cosmic and otherworldly powers.
Now, with his identity sorted out, his first order of business was to find a way out of this dark room. He turned his body to the side of the table he was sitting on, and then slid off onto the ground. Maximus did not feel the same. His legs were stronger than ever. They did not feel like stone slabs anymore; but rather steel girders. He stretched his arms, which still felt slightly numb. Max then attempted to speak, but then shut his jaw, because his mouth felt like a desert. How long has it been since he fell asleep? Not long, he supposed. Nevertheless, he spoke.
“Where the hell am I?”
Max put his hands over his mouth. He heard a deep, but little high-pitched voice coming from his vocal chords. He wasn’t sure if that voice belonged to him or someone else.
“Was that me?”
And sure enough, it was him. And sure enough, he thought he wasn’t even the same person for a second. Then, he heard some kind of high-pitched, imp-like voice.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
All of a sudden, Max heard a large door open. He then saw a thin streak of light that expanded a little before he saw a little shadow near the bottom of the line start to move. It was an imp-like creature, possibly no taller than four feet. It had a hood concealing its entire face, but it had glowing eyes that pierced the darkness. It held a fireball in its hands, possibly in an attempt to light the darkness. Without thinking twice, Max believed that the imp-like being could help him escape this…whatever it was. Max spoke.
“Excuse me? You. The short man, woman, thing…I apologize for that, but I can’t make out what you are exactly. But regardless, could you help me find my way out of here?”
The little imp turned his head and saw Max’s face. The imp’s eyes enlarged, in fear, maybe? Or maybe surprise? The thing then let his fireball fizzle out and ran out of the door.
“Wait!” Max yelled. “Don’t leave me here! I don’t want to be alone! Then again, I always have been alone, maybe inside…” Then, Max heard a stampede of footsteps charging towards his way. Then, the next thing he knew, the massive door opened as quick as a bullet and light pierced the darkness of the room. Max was blinded for a second, and then he saw a massive horde of imp-like beings standing before him. Max saw their eyes. They were stunned, shocked, amazed, awed-but by what? They would not take their eyes off of something. But Max wondered what. He then realized that it was him. They were looking at HIM. But Max, being himself, said the most basic, unintelligent thing.
Suddenly, the mob began to chant together, “He has awoken! The king has awoken!”
What king? Max wondered. He then had a mental flashback. Max was the king of the Evilios Realm, a realm of pure evil, but he only did it to save his wife, Xylene. Through that journey, he became evil and twisted, but sane enough to remain the way he was. Or maybe that was his stupidity. He didn’t know right now. He then had three children, Xavier, Kristal, and Somala. Then, he got stabbed. In the heart. By SOMEONE. But who?
“What is all the ruckus here?! Would you people shut up!?”
The horde turned their heads toward the voice. It was another imp, wearing a black hooded robe, lined with silver. Somehow, the thing looked similar to Max. Then he realized what these imps were. They were Iiawaks, highly intelligent imps that were also very evil. But they were always loyal to their king, which was Maximus. And that imp standing in the doorway was one of his generals, Kortexar, the smartest of the other generals. Max then spoke to Kortexar.
“Kortexar? Is that you?”
“Is that really you?”
“I’d like to ask the same question! Is that the same Max that I knew fifteen years ago?!”
“That depends,” Max says. Then, he felt an instinct within him, something weird, one that only he could understand. “Do I look like the life of the party to you?” Max then felt a sort of self-satisfaction in him-one that only one gets when they make a terrible joke.
“Oh my god! It really is you! I’d know that bad humor anywhere! You’re back! Max! I can’t believe it! You’re really back! You’re really back! Holy crap, this is amazing! It’s been so long since you’ve been gone! And you bunch! Get lost!” On that note, the group of Iiawaks began scuttling out. Only Kortexar and Max remained.
“Kortexar…it’s so great to see you. I remember everything now, who I am, who you are, and-” Max paused. He suddenly remembered something that Kortexar said seconds ago. Feelings of dread, agony, and panic stirred within him, as well as a hint of anger. “Wait, what did you say?! ‘It’s been so long’?!” At this point, Max was grabbing Kortexar and shaking him like a pillow.
“HOW LONG WAS I ASLEEP FOR?!!” Max bellowed. Simultaneously, the earth shook. Max did not care why this happened. Kortexar was frightened and at the same time, nauseous.
“Well, uh…uh…you’ve been uh…uh…” Kortexar stammered, gesturing for the appropriate words.
“Just tell me, man!” Max commanded. “How long was I asleep for?!” In a panic, Kortexar yelled, “You haven’t been asleep, Max! You’ve been dead for fifteen years! I would’ve revived you sooner, but the Dark Iiawaks refused to let you go! They wanted to make you into a mindless war machine!”
Max was speechless. He let go of Kortexar, letting him fall to the ground. His arms fell and swayed until they were still. “Fifteen years.” he said. “You didn’t stop them?”
“I wanted to, Max!” Kortexar said. “But they refused to return you back to life as you once were unless I went along with their terms! I managed to negotiate them into keeping you as sane as you were before you got stabbed, but they still gave you immense dark powers!”
Max never realized that Kortexar had to become the leader of the Dark Iiawaks to save him. The Dark Iiawaks, after all, were the most evil Iiawaks in the whole world, being that they were a cult. “But why did you join them?” Max questioned.
“I had to! I had no other choice! I knew what they were going to do to you! So I had to join them and they made me do some crazy things! All to save you from becoming the Living Apocalypse! But I suppose that it’s a bit too late.”
“Two things: one, I am still me, so don’t worry about that, and two, what kind of crazy shit?”
“They…had me drink your blood.”
“Yes, I know! It’s disgusting! But I had to if I wanted to bring you back to life! These Dark Iiawaks, man! They don’t screw around!”
“Dude, that is disgusting!” Max said. “MY BLOOD!”
“Yes, your blood! It’s actually really good.” Said Kortexar.
Chills went down Max’s spine. The smartest of his generals drinking his own blood was unnerving. But that chill was soon replaced by a panic. “Where is my family?!” Max shouted. The earth shook again.
“They’re fine, Max! Although they haven’t been the same, they’re still fine!”
“Sigh…okay, okay. Thank you. I was really worried about them for a second there.” Max began to look around the room, now that it was illuminated. He saw large pillars on each side of the room, and some kind of eerie, sinister object on the ceiling. It had hooks and was pointing down from the ceiling, like a stalactite from the roof of a cave. It hung over the table which Max had lay on minutes ago.
“Oh, that. That is what we used to bring you back to life! It’s a lazer! That thing infused you with dark powers so mystic, not even I could wield their power. And by the way, we gave you a new heart to top it off!”
Max stopped looking at the stalactite and looked at Kortexar. “What?”
“Fifteen years ago, you were stabbed in the heart. We could’ve repaired it, but they brought out something far, far worse. It was a heart created out of pure darkness and fire. It’s called the Darkflame Bloodboiler. It gives you invulnerability to everything in existence-disease, weapons, bullets-they have no effect on you. You’re practically an unstoppable force from head to toes! But that didn’t change who you are, right? Right?”
Max looked at the ground, slightly embarrassed by the sort of praise that he had received. “Well, yes. I mean, I feel as dumb as ever!” He laughed for a second, and so did Kortexar. Max then questioned, “Hey, how the hell to we get out of this place?”
“Oh, that! Simple! But first, I think you should take a look at yourself first. Follow me!” With that, Kortexar began walking out. Max, being as naïve as usual, followed.
When he got out of the room, he found that the room was located inside a grand temple, which was not well-lit, as there were only torches. There were Dark Iiawaks all over the place, but they got out of Max’s way when they saw him, bowing down, as if Max was their god that had come into their world. Kortexar then stopped in front of a mirror, and let Max see his new self.
Max was petrified at his new look. His skin was pale white; his eyes were no longer normal, instead, they were two large yellow dots on his face. And his hair was now half gone, as if someone cut half of it off. The top half of his hair was black, as usual, but his bottom half was red. Then, Max, being the moron he is, yelled out these words: “What the hell happened to me?!” Every head turned to see him. Kortexar attempted to calm him down. “Now, Max, it might look bad, but trust me, you look so much better.”
“HOW?!” yelled Max. “How does THIS look better?!” He pointed his index finger to his mohawk-esque hair.
“They thought that you would look cooler if you had that haircut!”
“I looked cooler when I had a full head of hair!” Max then looked in the mirror once more. “At least I have my face from fifteen years ago. Guess that’s not too bad.”
“Yeah! See? Not so bad after all!” Kortexar said. “Now then, hurry up! I’m gonna get you out of this place!” Kortexar began to run toward another large door, presumably the exit. Max followed in pursuit. When he got out the door, he was blinded by the light of the sun. After recovering from a beam of light, Max realized that he was not standing on firm ground. He was standing on volcanic rock, to be accurate. The temple was located near a volcano, an active one, with no sign of civilization for miles. There was a road in front of him, through a forest of dead trees, it seemed. “Um, Kortexar?” Max said. “I don’t think you were going to let me walk on foot, right?”
“What? Of course not, bozo! We forged you a special ride!” And with that, Kortexar’s hands glowed. He then thrust them outward. Then, a large orange circle lined with strange symbols appeared, and then it was set ablaze. The fire settled, and all that remained was a black car, streaked with red and it had spikes protruding from its back and its wheel covers. It had a large dragon on the hood of it, fierce and strong. The wheels glowed red; they were still hot, as if they were just forged. It seemed to fit six, although Max did not care about that, but he loved the design of the car. It was sleek, but powerful, mobile but sturdy, and it looked fast.
Then Max noticed a sword, some armor, and some clothes in the back seat. Max had never realized until now that all he was wearing was ripped black jeans and an undershirt. He put on the clothes, first a shirt that said, “King”, with the dot on the “i” being replaced by a crown. Then, he put on a vest, adorned with a plethora of buttons and stickers. Definitely Max’s style of clothing. Kortexar patiently waited by the car, hoping that Max would hurry his actions. Max then picked up a piece of shoulder armor; a dragon’s head with two spikes protruding from the base of the shoulder, separated from each other by the dragon head.
Max began to reach for the sword when Kortexar jumped up and said, “Whoa, dude! Careful with that!”
“What?” said Max. “I’ve handled swords before, what makes you think I can’t hold this one?”
“That isn’t any regular sword! That’s the Worldender’s Blade, a sword that can end the world in an instant! If you’re not careful with it, at least. We found it deep under our temple when digging for more room. Whatever you do, don’t take it out of its sheath!”
“What, like this?” Max pulled the sword quickly out of its sheath. The cross-guard was mounted with a fierce dragon head, the pommel being a protruding spike, and the blade being long. The blade was red, and it had hooks right above the cross-guard, similar to ancient swords used in medieval times. The tip of the sword was sharp, as if it could penetrate steel just by poking it. There were symbols of the gammalt language, which translating into today’s language, means “APOCALYPSE”.
“Whew! Thank God! I thought the world would end right then and there when you took it out of the sheath!” Kortexar then slumped in the front seat, and Max jumped right next to him, in the driver’s seat. He then asked, “How does this thing start?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Max, I’ve got it.” Kortexar reached into his robe and pulled out a silver key, and Max took the object with joy, and stuck it in the ignition.
“To get home, we just follow the road, right?”
“Yes, but you should-”
And with that, Max turned on the ignition, turned the gear to drive, and rocketed off, literally leaving a trail of fire. Don’t worry, guys, thought Max. I’ll be home. At long last.
Well, that's it, guys! Let me know what you think I can do and please, spread this on and let your friends know! I would really appreciate that! As usual, thank you guys so much and I hope to get some feedback!
ASK ME CRAP PLZ
Yea. So what.
It's not just Christmas, it's Blitz-mas on our planet, and that means only one thing: to wrap up our swords and guns in wires and gift wrap and start slaying in style. It's a lot like Tanks-Giving. Only that Tanks-Giving didn't have weapons wrapped in paper.
So merry Christmas to you all. I hope you guys have a better Christmas than I am, since there's currently a few Infectoid soldiers breathing down my neck trying to get their fair share of gingerbread cookies.