Whateley Independent Fiction (WhatIF)

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A Whateley Academy story

Max the Fourth

Max and the Wonders of Capitalism, the Enlightenment and Industrialism

by

GreatDingo

 

 October 2007

“Hello friends, how are we this fine lunch-hour?” Max set his tray down on the usual table he and his friends shared. They were all there. His roommate, and best friend, Toolbox. The group’s second techie, a Devisor named Electrics. The handsome and charming Exemplar with his prosthetic arm, Fused. The scrappy warper, Zeno, the freshman, Bawumba, towering over them all, even seated, the almost seven-foot-tall pyromancer, Firestriker, and lastly, despite him technically belonging to the enemy faction, a PDP named Chant had joined them. Most of them grunted their greetings. Fused as usual barely acknowledged Max, instead maintaining his focus on the beautiful exemplar girl at the next table over. The two of them were engaged in non-verbal flirtation using channels only fully comprehensible via Exemplar minds! Max had not paid much attention when Fused explained his flirting technique. What he did know was that the two of them were definitely undressing each other with their eyes.

Only Toolbox and Chant greeted Max directly. 

“Yo Maxi-pad, how’s the fingerwiggling? Not gonna hit on Starlight today?” Chant asked, waving his food-laden fork like a wand at him. 

Toolbox settled for a simple “Hi Max.”

 

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Max the Third:

Max and The Pirate of the Seven Seas

 

A GreatDingo Short Story

In Whateley Academy

 

September, 2007

 

“Excuse me gentlebeings, I would like to ask a question or two, if you don’t mind.” 

The boys sitting at the table all jumped in surprise at not just the voice, but also at the pointy end of what appeared to be a Norton’s 3 lbs. 2oz. 26 inch heavy duty shear with high-grade aircraft aluminum handles and center oiler bolt, for improved performance, being put into into the table for the boy carrying it to lean on. 

Despite all being freshmen with not even a month at the school behind them, they all recognized the blonde sophomore with the shirt half untucked, the smiley adorned backpack and the goofy expression on his face. 

 

The crazy guy with the chainsaw!

 

 

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Parallel 2: Interlaced (Parts 21-30)

By JulesM

Note for the reader: this is Interlaced, sequel to Parallels and featuring the continuing adventures of my OC Parallel. An ongoing serial, it's being released here in 10-part blocks for your convenience.

We resume the story as our heroine has hatched into a full GOO, changed the world - and been saddened to learn she's not quite the same as Sara, she's not a demon.

 

Part twenty one

9th January, 2007, the Lovecraft room, late morning

Happily, we have time to get some serious snuggling done before lunch, and Sara gets to watch me move the mark, and gives me a kiss over where I’ve moved it to, to seal the deal. That being right over my heart, in the V of my cleavage where even the school uniform will show it off if I wear the collar loose. No hiding who I love any more!

Snuggling with Sara is so delicious, and I really want the opportunity to repay the favour she did me on Sunday morning (yum, such memories). Everything’s been frenetic since then, but now I can do tentacles too, and I’m all but itching to try them out on her. Frustratingly though, it’s not private enough at this time of day for anything more than heavy petting and mutual teases. (Tentacles under clothes, mmm nice. And mine are as sensitive as fingertips right down their length, so it’s a lovely way to caress her.) Not that I’d personally mind an audience in the least, but I don’t want to push my luck with Carson right now. And there isn’t really much time, as the clock-monitoring part of me warns, we’re coming up on end of third period, which means lunch.

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Parallel 2: Interlaced (Parts 11-20)

By JulesM

Note for the reader: this is Interlaced, sequel to Parallels and featuring the continuing adventures of my OC Parallel. An ongoing serial, it's being released here in 10-part blocks for your convenience.

We resume the story as our intrepid heroine has decided to stash a body with the weres for safety, and learned how to create simple objects from bulk bone - her own bone, that is.

 

Part eleven

7th January, 2007, afternoon

All of me are asleep. One in a nook with a sunbeam, one on the soft grass of a place that isn’t anywhere on Earth, and one on Sara’s bed. We, I, draw into focus, no dreams, no sensations, just self. I rest my attention and let thoughts come.

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Parallel 2: Interlaced (Parts 1-10)

By JulesM

Note for the reader: this is Interlaced, sequel to Parallels and featuring the continuing adventures of my OC Parallel. An ongoing serial, it's being released here in 10-part blocks for your convenience.

As we resume the story, our intrepid heroine has escaped having her brain kidnapped in a jar, and is presently having a meeting with her academic adviser - and an orgy at the same time, like one does.

 

Part one

Saturday 6th January, 2007, Whateley

The body I have in Schuster Hall shakes hands with my newly assigned academic advisor, Miss Terri Larson. The school laptop she gave me is under my arm. “Thank you again. I know I’m probably a bit of a handful to work with.”

“I’m sure we shall get along wonderfully”, she says in reply, and parting. “I’ll see you next week.”

I head out towards the quad. This is going to be a busy but good term. I’ve picked up a class load that no single human could handle. But then, I’m not really either of those.

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Parallel 1: Parallels

By JulesM

Note for the reader: this is Parallels, a stand alone story that introduces Parallel, my OC, and diverges from the canon stories beginning from 1st january 2007. It isn't canon yet, but I have plans. It is followed in continuity by the serial story Interlaced.

 

Part one

Somewhere, some-when

I’ve been running a fever all afternoon and the bus home from work is making me want to puke, with its lurching turns and stop-go. I’m dizzy, my coat’s done all the way up and I’m still shivering but I know I’m burning up. There’s only a short way to go, now, until I’m at my stop. Not sure if I should drag myself home on foot or call an ambulance, I can hardly think. I press the button, ding. Thank god, we’ve finally quit lurching. Stepping out of the bus, dizzy and stumbling, my feet have no strength, I trip over nothing at all - this is going to hurt, I think in a detached way - and I’m falling through the floor, face down into deep powder snow and darkness. That makes no sense. There shouldn’t be any snow here, it’s only autumn. I’m on fire but I’m freezing, the cold is a shock and a relief but it feels like it isn’t even enough. I’m melting down into the snow. Memory rising of a YouTube where someone dropped a red hot cannonball onto a cube of ice. I’m dying. Can’t think. Black.


1st January, 2007, Whateley

Waking up is slow. It’s white, then light, then ceiling. It’s being unable to move anything except my eyes, then gradually being able to turn my head, then able to twitch and curl fingers. Eyes close, exhausted, sleep.

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Falconer: A Stranger Arrives In Town

by null0trooper

If it weren't for bad luck, would JB have any luck at all?

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Let's Get Dangerous

By Red Cloud

 

It had been a week. A week of running, hiding, trips to the student store for supplies, and a lot of careful work in his room after scaring Gander out. He felt bad about that, but if he was going to survive, he had to play with and learn his new toys, and he needed privacy to build and practice. 

 

He’d worked on his new look, too, and as he stepped out of his room in full gear for the first time, he hoped like hell that his powers were working for once. Looking at himself in the mirror, he thought he looked stupid as shit, but everything else he’d come up with looked even dumber, and well...it worked for the secret squirrels for a reason. 

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Into Danger Again

By Red Cloud

Greg stared at Locksley dubiously. “Couldn’t I-”

 

“No,” Locksley said firmly. 

 

“But if we-”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

Greg bit his lips. “Waffles are good.”

 

“Under no circumstance...” Locksley broke off and glared at him, eyes twinkling. “Now you’ve made me commit blasphemy.”

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Max the Second: Max and the Great Balls of Fire

by

GreatDingo

Sometime in the middle of October, 2006.

 

Max hummed a nameless tune to himself, heading along the campus walkways swinging a bola around, smashing it into the ground or benches or trees, whatever he happened to pass by. Now and then he changed up the lyrics with a few meaningless phrases.

He carried a backpack, like any other student except for the scabbarded chainsaw, one strap passing under the pocketless bandoleer worn across his chest.

The bola, it seemed, was actually two pouches hanging from a piece of rope. each pouch embroidered with arcane symbols and a small piece of hard clay. 

 

Other students on the path, when noticing him, avoided him with some going so far as to head across the lawn in their efforts to get away from the freshman who had quickly been established as the school’s reigning nutcase. 

Max greeted each and every one with a cheerful wave, even going so far as to perform a few tricks with his toy, often ending up smashing it into rocks along the path, or other obstacles that happened to get in the way. 

 

Finally, he reached his destination, Range 4. Inside could be heard the screaming of one Corporal Erik Mahren, the rangemaster, colloquially known simply as Mister Mahren. 

What he was screaming about this time didn’t concern Max, it was probably some other student doing something, in Mahren’s mind, entirely wrong and unacceptable. 

Max headed inside and looked around, several students were present, including a few seniors even. Mister Mahren was screaming at another freshman. 


Quickly, Max spotted his target and headed straight towards her, Morticia Addams, AKA Elyzia Grimes. One of the mystical arts teachers. Towards her, he continued slamming his toy into walls, chairs, steel beams and the like. 

Ms. Grimes noticed him and immediately rolled her eyes. 

“Mr. Powell, what brings you here, may I ask? Do you not have a class to attend?” 


Max nodded his agreement, then shook his head; “Nah, ‘Teach told me to find you, said you were out here. Why is that, by the way? Don’t the two of you hate each other?” He indicated the still shouting Mister Mahren who had already thrown a few suspicious glances his way. 

 

“What Mister Mahren and I may, or may not, think about each other is none of your concern, now I’ll ask you to explain why you were told by Mister Al-Feyez to find me.”

 

Max held out the two pouches on the end of the rope; “Sure sure, Mrs. Addams,” he switched to a less than elegant version of Shakespearean English, “thou didst command a project most mystical from I, and I assureth thou, that I hast obeyed!”

 

Ms Grimes accepted the pouches from him; “I’ll thank you not to butcher neither English nor Shakespeare like that again, I’m sure Mrs. Carson would not be adverse to assigning you extra work for her. Yes, she told me you will be writing twenty pages on Cicero for her.”

Max shrugged.

She studied the pouches, the embroidery and the arcane work Max had shown her, muttering a few spells to further ascertain their purpose. 

“Hmm, the artificing is adequate, though I’m sure you would benefit from an embroidery class, simple leather, yes. What are these, clay? Yes, presumably for opening the pouches, yes? But the way you were handling them, I assume there’s a trigger word as well, yes. 

“Yes, fine work, Mr. Powell, fine work. A shock absorbing enchantment, with further protection against cuts and heat, I presume?” she raised an eyebrow at Max and handed back the pouches. 

 

“Sure, gotta protect what’s inside, indeed. Inside, the pouch is lined with a silk and velvet blend. Just for added benefit. Thread is waxed silk, that thing I showed you last week and the needle was a mithril needle I borrowed from the department.

“Say, you wanna see what’s inside?” Max smiled eagerly. 

 

“Indeed, Mr. Powell, do show me.”

 

“Okay, so, the trigger word for this one is ‘Flubsy’, don’t ask, I just needed something people wouldn’t guess so easily.” He took hold of the clay piece, but stopped and instead handed it back to Ms. Grimes. 

“Here, why don’t you do it. Just take a firm hold, pull the clay rune and whisper the trigger. Then pull and hold.”

 

Ms. Grimes took the pouch and did as instructed. Out came a glass orb around the size of baseball with what looked like a raging fire on the inside. 

“An alchemical concoction, no doubt. Is this what you have been working on in Mr. Al-Feyez’s class, Mr. Powell?” Ms. Grimes studied the orb. 

 

“Nah, this is a side project that I’ve been fiddling with on my own time. The glass orb was provided by Glazier down in the workshops, some of the ingredients by various students, and the whole thing set ablaze, if you will, by my good friend, Firestriker. Paid him a hundred bucks for that. Well worth it, I think. Oh, and a special bit of powder I got from, never mind who I got it from, for extra flammable stickiness.” He took the orb from Ms. Grimes and headed towards one of the stations on the range. 

“Let’s try it out.” 

 

Before he could throw it, another student interrupted;
“Wow, is that a Dragonball?” 

Max looked at him, then at the orb, then back to the student. 

“You know, I haven’t really thought of a name yet, but sure, let’s say it’s a Dragonball.” He juggled the Dragonball from hand to hand. 

“Okay, let’s see what this thing can do!” He drew his hand back, ready to throw when again, he was interrupted. 

 

This time, by the rangemaster himself, Mister Mahren.

“What the hell is your crazy ass doing in my range? What’s that you got there? You know the fucking rules maggot! Every new weapon and grenade has to be checked by yours truly first! Now fork it over, or I’ll tear your pretty little ass a new one!”

Max looked at the angry Marine Corporal a moment, then shrugged;
“Sure, I don’t mind if you try it first, Mister M.” He handed him the orb, then whispered to the other student; “He thinks my ass is pretty, I feel so special.” The student blanched and huddled over his own weapon, determined not to call attention to himself.

 

Mister Mahren inspected the orb, sending the occasional evil eye at Max. Then he grabbed the pouch; “This the transport? Yeah. A magical grenade, huh? No, firebomb. What’s the safety on this? Can you put the pin back in?”

 

Max shook his head; “Sadly, the pouches are one use only, but they’re easy enough to make. But don’t open it unless you absolutely plan to use it. Isn’t that what you said about most weapons as well? Don’t pull your gun unless you’-”


Mahren broke in; “I know what said, idiot. Now stand back, I’ll test this out and then you can fuck off afterwards!”

 

Max took a few steps back and smiled broadly; “Sure sure, but be warned, there will be fireball!”

 

Mister Mahren grunted his acknowledgement, drew his arm back, and let the Dragonball fly. 

 

The first thing that happened was the orb hitting the ground and shattering into pieces. An instant later angry red flames leapt out to all sides and grabbed hold of everything it touched and started burning. And kept burning, despite there not being any actual flammable material. Seconds later, the steel beams started to look like they were beginning to melt. 

 

Both Mister Mahren and Ms. Grimes looked stumped for a few moments while eager shouts of “Yeah” and “Wooo” and more, sounded from the other students. 

As the fire raged on and started to slowly spread, Mister Mahren turned to Max. 

“Turn that fire off now, before it burns down the whole facility!”


Max shrugged; “I can’t.”

 

“What do you mean, you can’t? What the fuck is this fire?” Mahren screamed at him. 

 

“Oh, it’s an essence fuelled flame. As long as there’s essence, or even spent essence, magical waste if you will, around, it’ll be damned hard to stop it. It’ll just keep going. I suppose if we could suck out all the oxy-”

Ms. Grimes grabbed hold of him and pulled him out of Mahren’s grip. She nearly screamed in his face as well; “An Essence fire? Are you insane? That thing can burn us all to ashes, and you didn’t make something to stop it with?”

 

Max shrugged, then sighed and shimmied out of both the teacher’s grips; “Okay, okay. I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid.” He held up the other pouch, grabbed the clay rune and whispered the trigger. 

The orb inside seemed cold to the touch and appeared to have an ice storm inside. 

“Essence ice. Just the thing you need in a situation like this.” He held it out to Mahren who instantly threw it at the fire. 

Sure enough, a great burst of ice spread across the fire, which quickly died out. 

 

Mister Mahren drew in a deep breath and exhaled, a cold air on his breath; “You’re damned fucking lucky that worked you maniac!

Now how the hell are you going to get all this ice out of my range?” He seemed seconds away from committing murder. 

 

Max looked the range over a moment before responding.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Check this.” He grabbed a small metal rune on his bandoleer sitting just above his collarbone. He whispered a few words and pulled it down, like a zipper. Immediately, from his back, over the shoulder, a row of pouches just like the two he’d come in with rolled down his chest as the color drained from both teacher’s faces.  

“I got more!”

 

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Dangerous Beginnings

By Red Cloud

“-to your safe shelter now, we do have touchdown-”

 

Greg ran with his family to the bathroom, shaking slightly. The practiced motions of the drill were very, very different with the adrenaline rush of reality sinking into him. They couldn’t afford a tornado shelter, and that meant the bathroom and mattresses. The weather radio was squawking, telling them how close to their house the tornado was. It wasn’t a huge one, but it was big enough, and it was coming right for them.

 

As he huddled under the mattress, he felt a twinge in his head, putting it down to fear. The tornado wasn’t supposed to be coming for them, they were out of the lanes, out of the danger area. It had, in fact turned two minutes ago, sending them scrambling. 

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In Dreams: Dream A Little Dream For Me

by null0trooper

For Sandra Carter, nightmare haunts her day and the past lies ahead of her. Can the Tao and its Handmaiden shine new light on her way, or must the darkness prove stronger?

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What’s The Matter With You

Part 6

 

By Camospam, editing by Wendy K.

 

A Non-Canon Whateley Academy tale.

 

Saturday March 1, 2008.

Poe Cottage, Whateley Academy

 

 6:00 o’clock in the morning remained one of the few quiet times in Poe cottage, aside from those few early risers who either didn’t or couldn’t sleep and greeted the day pre-dawn. Toni Chandler was not one of those who rose before the sun, but when she did wake she was at full throttle - ready for whatever the day might bring.

 Toni’s roommate on the other hand needed some encouragement.

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Call Of The Light (Part 6 - Final)

Book Three of Heaven's Light

By Erisian

Chapter 23 - Sacrifices

The California sun had hours ago slipped below the evergreen-lined mountain peaks to the west. Leftovers from his lunch foray into the local town still sat mostly uneaten on the square patio table, sandwich and partially consumed plum resting on a plate. The porch-light remained off as stars twinkled into view between the wispy clouds hanging in the sky, leaving him as a motionless dark shadow resting on the wooden bench before the cabin.

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 A Whateley Tale

Perchance Forgiveness

By GreatDingo

 

 

2016, Seattle, a diner

“Alright hon, three specials ta go and three lemonades. We’s a little backed up, so ya gotta wait a spell. But I guess yer’re used to that, what with bein’ in the army and such.” The waitress slapped a number in the young lieutenants hands, winked and turned around to the cook and yelled out the order.

“Uh, navy, actually, but...yeah, sure…” the lieutenant shrugged and looked around for a seat whilst idly wondering how this particular waitress had ended up in a progressive city like Seattle.
The small diner was almost filled to the brim, so seating space seemed a premium. There was one booth at the back with just the one occupant, a young woman his age, or perhaps a few years younger. He gave a quick once over, determining whether he could sit there, at least until his order was up. She was quite beautiful. No, strike that, she was hot!
She had that gorgeous chocolate colored hair and what looked like a body to kill for.
In fact…