Ochan

Ok so this taking too long and so I am just going to make a few threads. I am going to put in a lot and I know that it goes against the rules to flood the forums here but I really want this out to you guys. So I m sorry for the amount that I am going to realse tonight.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Max now lived alone in a small one room apartment. The living room and the kitchen were one in the same, and the bathroom was just big enough for one person to move between the sink and the dingy wall to make their way to the shower. The bedroom was in shambles, there was no bed, just a mattress on the floor, and a desk with a chair that didn’t roll anymore. The whole apartment was a mess. There were dirty dishes everywhere, including the shower and papers on books that he was researching littered the convict orange shag carpet. The walls were bare and white with the occasional stain here and there, the only thing that was clean in the house was the wall with his book collection on in. The books were all rare copies that he aquired as payment from his employers.

There was a protective layer of tinted glass between the books and the outside world to protect form fading and damage and the inside was temperature controlled. To most this would seem like a little over kill for some books, but Max knew the real value of the books. The books alone were, collectively, worth about five hundred thousand dollars in the current condition. The book shelf that the books were imprisoned in was as tall as the ceiling and jet black. The whole wall was covered by this colossal case, holding hundreds of years of knowledge with in its depths. The amber glass made all the books look ancient and dingy. All across the bookshelf the spines of the books were facing out, like hundreds of soldiers standing at attention awaiting the next command from their commanding officer.

Every once in a while looking at the hefty collection of books one would see a few that had their front covers facing out, breaking the model of the other books in the library. These select few books were Max’s favorite books. All of which dealt with his favorite subjects, religion and the occult, Max was hardly an expert on any one of those subjects but he was able to hold his own in a debate over them. It was in one of these debates that he caught the attention of a future employer and the bane of his life.

One night Max was at a gathering of the brightest minds of the literary community to celebrate a new book being published for a writer. Max wondered in, fashionably late like always liked to do, and he made his way through the entry way. The home of this particular author was very lavish unlike many of the others. This was a mansion the house was a breath taking sixty two hundred square feet. The house was three stories, not including the basement, each story encased in stunning masonry work.

The front door was thick wood, six inches deep, and hand carved with lavish detail. On each panel there were scenes of war, love, murder, and religious awaking. There was no doorbell just a knocker that was a brass lion holding the rind in its mouth. The knocker was heavy, weighed at least three pounds, and when it made contact with the door it was a loud thundering sound.

The entry way was tall, the floor was marble and the walls on either side were bare but they stretched up the thirteen feet to melt into the ceiling. There were no rooms on either side just a tunnel and one way to go. When one was going through the entry way tunnel they almost got the feeling of being lost in a fairy book castle’s hallways. When you reach the end of the hallway it opens up to a large white room, the main room in the house. Looking up you can see all the way to the third floor and all the people who are wondering all around the house. Every room in the house opens up to this room and so the owner can keep an eye on all that is going on throughout his house from the third floor.
This is the room where the evening’s activities were to be held. There was a lavish meal table with everything, including an ice swan that looked glorious up in the center of the table. The room had marble floors and white walls but they were not bare like the hallway. There were paintings all around the room, and between the chairs and plants taken out for show, there were sculptures and suits of armor that the owner had collected over the years. In the center of the room was a makeshift stage that the owner had setup in order to be the center of events for that evening. Making his way around, socializing with people Max found the people he needed to stay away from for the rest of the night and tried to keep out of their sight. Max meandered through the people in the main room until his attention was averted to the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I am allowed upon this stage to introduce a true visionary in his field. This man has done so much for other people that it is about time that he did something for himself…” Mr. Gennings was giddy up on that stage while he was introducing the guest of the party. Mr. Gennings was well known in the literary community, he was know as the scholar of the arbitrary, the man was a walking source of information that you never needed or wanted to know. He was a tall man, he was a fat as he was tall. He was one of Max’s past employers who he had gone to jail for and they were great friends. Mr. Gennings was a loud boisterous man who was always in a good mood and willing to help out a friend in a pickle, but if you said the wrong thing he would turn into an angry fat man in no time at all. When Mr. Gennings is not in a bad mood, which he usually is which is why Max likes him so much, he is joking around with everyone but you wouldn’t know by the reactions of the people he is trying to entertain. Mr. Gennings is great at purging information but he is not good at getting the plotline across to the people on the receiving end.

Mr. Gennings ended his speech and sat down on the stage and looked to the side as the host of the party emerged from a doorway. The host, until this point, was a mystery to Max and when the host revealed himself Max was delighted. The host was “Mr. Shadow”, which was the only name that anyone knew him as. Mr. Shadow had changed his legal name in order to create mystique with his readers. He was Max’s favorite author and though he had never met the man he had a great respect for the man. Mr. Shadow was the most renowned author on the subject of the occult. Max had every book that he had ever written and had even read the manuscripts of the books that he had written but never published, Max knew virtually everything about this man and had never even met him.

“Mr. Shadow” emerged from the shadows of the doorway revealing an extremely tall man draped in a black robe that seemed to barley stay on the frame of his body. Mr. shadow, thought old, seemed to be very nimble and move with a fluid motion, almost as if he were dancing over to the stage. He seemed to bob and weave over o the stage and on the way there he made an effort to look the crowd and see who had attended his gala so he knew what to say in his upcoming speech. At one point he caught the gaze of his fan, Max, and when Max found himself looking into the eyes of the man he had so much respect for, he immediately averted his gaze and his faced flushed to a pale white. It was a dream of Max’s to meet this man, and now that he was in his presence, he felt sick with excitement and looking at him almost mad Max feel sick with excitement.
(7)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
There's one... Sorry again for how much space I am going to take up

__________________