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[clickwhirr]

MAX CAULFIELD - LIFE IS STRANGE !

student, photographer, accidentally a time traveller

caused a massive destructive tornado upon her town by time travelling whoops

beware the quiet man actually don’t, she’s harmless

vibe check! [takes ur photo]

she ain’t like the cool kids... she’s got a polaroid........ what a hippie.......

[spaacemusings]

                                                I will always find you                                               like it’s written in the stars

[clickwhirr]

ragestaged​:

woah, okay. the closeness didn’t take her off-guard but the flowers in her hands definitely did. the bouquet is a beautiful thing, with different shades of blues on different flowers. fuck, she suddenly wished she knew flower language so she knew what they represented. she knew jack shit about flowers, despite her sleeve (really she left the finished design up to the tattoo artist). the bouquet– it probably was a coincidence, maybe not at all personal, and she’d try not to read into it, but fuck if it didn’t just derail her entire long-winded apology.  chloe laughed dumbly, awkwardly. ❝ Thanks, the last thing I remember is taking a post-medication nap and then waking up beside that giant hole again three months later. That hole’s fucking creepy, by the way. I’m pretty sure people use it as a body dump. ❞ she nearly joked about being one of those bodies before cutting herself off. that’d be an incredibly stupid thing to say to max.  chloe sighed. ❝ Your guess is as good as mine. I’m just glad you’re still here. I.. didn’t mean to disappear on you. Obviously. ❞ would it be cheesy to tell her that she wouldn’t leave her again in a million years as long as max would have her? that she’d fight against the universe to stay by max’s side? that she was nothing without her?  the words died before they hit her tongue, leaving them in awkward silence for a moment. her grip on the bouquet tightened before she sat them upon the display case and went in for an embrace. i’m not gonna get my sap all over her while shes at work, chloe decided as she pulled max close.

❝ What time do you clock out? ❞ chloe asked, softly. ❝ As much as I’d love to steal you, I don’t wanna be responsible for getting you fired. ❞

   It has been sitting somewhere in the back of her mind -- the knowledge that offering a bouquet to a pretty girl can be misconstrued in different meanings -- but it only hits once the flowers are out of her hands. Max flushes, a light rouge on her cheeks, and almost steps back before Chloe gathers her into her arms and she relaxes, instead, leaning into the touch. Much like last time, she’s warm, and she’s real -- not an illusion, not a dream, not a trick, however odd the circumstances may be for both of them.

   “I know,” Of course she didn’t mean to. There is no way they could have avoided each-other for so long in only one city, and Chloe wouldn’t have done that to her; besides, three months is nothing on five years. She loops her arms around Chloe’s waist, pressing closer. “I’m not going anywhere, Chloe. Not this time. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

   Whatever happened doesn’t matter-- it does, but in the grand scheme of things, she’s okay, and Max has heard snippets of this happening before. Appearing and reappearing in the city; sometimes the same, sometimes a different person from a different time. It’s hard to tell if this is her Chloe, but as long as this is the Chloe that she knows from here, it’s more than enough. Max has fewer reservations about being sappy, whether on the clock or otherwise, but she does let go, eventually.

   “I’ve got a couple of hours left,” She fishes her phone out of her pocket, one glance to check the time. “Then I’m all yours. I don’t think my boss would mind if you stuck around for a bit, but there’s not much to see. I can show you the garden... or just text you when I’m free to steal if being in a flower shop for two hours isn’t your thing.”

[ragestaged]

@clickwhirr​

oh god, had she really been gone for three months? it wasn’t like she went anywhere as far as she knew– she wasn’t transported back anywhere. it was like sleeping in and missing a whole day, except like if you were in a hospital in a coma and they had sold your house and dumped you at a bus station. no storm, no max, no dreaming, just darkness for what seemed like seconds and waking up once more confused as hell. it felt like a joke was being played on her.

once her new home was found, she didn’t give a fuck about anything else beyond finding max and making sure she was okay. her drive was akin to someone late for work, she didn’t have any common sense or patience and was just rushing to find her, like she was against the clock. she had gotten to the train station and had almost purchased a ticket to cotes before it occurred to her that she had a phone and if max was here, her number would be in it. one aggravated facepalm, a short conversation, and a lengthy train ride later, she was standing in-front of the iron rose. there had been no kind of indication as to what sort of business it was from the short conversation they had, but the fact that it was a flower shop didn’t shock chloe. actually, it made perfect sense for max. she was an artist after all. her phone buzzed as she opened the door (fuck, she had really just ignored all of max’s messages since the train huh), and apprehension settled in her throat as she looked around. she shouldn’t be this wound up, it was just max, and this wasn’t like a fucking dive bar; it was like the most lax place on earth wherever. but the choked up feeling, it was a lot of things, but it was mostly guilt and fear over the fact that she had hurt max badly without even meaning to. it didn’t make any sense, it was just one of those irrational thoughts that she dealt with and she knew that, but fuck if she wasn’t anxious. ❝ Max? ❞ chloe called, walking towards the checkout counter. the entire store was quiet aside from the gentle hum of the radio and the tap of her boots against the tile flooring. a step shy of the counter she stopped and turned, drawn to the display case filled with simple bouquets pre-made for sale. she wondered if max made any of them. maybe i should buy her some flowers, the fleeting thought crossed her mind as she admired a pretty white and pink arrangement. fuck, wait, don’t get ahead of yourself, dude. you don’t even know if she thinks that way about you. it was obvious she was very much trying to avoid the “not my max” thoughts.  ❝ Hello? Max? ❞ 

[clickwhirr]

   A quiet working day. Max likes them just like that-- this is not a sales role, but she is still in front-of-house and engaging with the clientele, and it’s much less overwhelming when she-- simply doesn’t. Some days there are queues long enough to make her head spin, even when she isn’t actively talking with every each and one of them. If there had been any customers when she’d felt her phone buzz in her pocket, she might have abandoned them immediately and gone running the second the phone was on her ear.

   Nobody really calls her in the city, after all. Nobody but Chloe, gone for three months after she’d even learned of her existence in Spirale -- she’d given her directions, hung up before her heart could burst through the phone screen, and spent time on-and-off texting, anxiously, and trying to stay on track at work. Her hands fiddle with a new arrangement -- blue poppies, asters, columbines, coming together in an ombre of -- 

   Blues, really. Blue on her mind and on her hands and on her phone contacts, and it’s very, very hard to think of anything else. Then her name is called, and Max freezes up.

   She shouldn’t. They’ve already been through this. It just feels like such an elaborate prank, like she would come to the front of the shop and there would be no one; just the trace of a voice she knows, but could have very well misheard just the same. A trick of the wind. They already took her away once.

   Reluctantly, she emerges from the back-- her hands still gripping the bouquet and her eyes lighting up at the vision behind the counter. Just the same as Max remembers her last time. 

   “Chloe!” She skirts around the counter and presses her back to the front. Chloe doesn’t look hurt, or dead (obviously)-- good sign. Her expression is a mixture of relief and bewilderment; some impulse goes directly against her freeze response and draws her closer-- close enough that she can press the bouquet into Chloe’s hands, for a simple lack of knowing what else to do. “You just disappeared! I couldn’t find you on my phone or in Cotes... did something happen? Do you remember anything?”

   ...

   “But, um. Welcome back.”

[clickwhirr]

sparklinghop​:

Bob sighs, hands in the pockets of his track jacket. Spotting someone out in the pouring rain without even an umbrella was one thing. (Don’t pay any mind that he’s one of them.) It was the fact she was some teenager staring down that endless hole that caused a bit of concern. Coupled with a rather hasty retreat from it. 

He can’t help but wonder what it was that changed her mind. 

“Relax. I’m not gonna give you a lecture or anything. In rain like this, you could’ve fallen down there by accident, you know?” 

And if she did, he would’ve jumped after her to try and save her, like an idiot. 

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” his voice is gentle, and genuine. He lets himself lean a little more on one foot than the other. 

   “I’m fine,” She insists, and -- maybe it is better for her to give him something rather than risk him making any assumptions. “I just wanted to see it up-close. It must be important, for them to just -- put a hole like this in the middle of the city... but you’re right. I should be careful. I’m sorry.”

  Slipping on the rainwater and into an accident has crossed her mind, but this is just -- rain. She’s seen worse, scarier, windier, more dangerous.

   Angrier.

   “I’m going back to my room.” She almost says home. She doesn’t. “You probably should, too. It’s easy to catch a cold with this.”

[clickwhirr]

ragestaged​:

within max’s grasp, she felt safe. its funny, she even felt that way through all the horrible shit the both of them experienced, that as long max was with her she’d be fine. even when max told her that she had to rewind because chloe had died (whenever max told her that it gave her a chill down her spine and a wrong feeling she couldn’t place), even when they had just dug up the love of chloe’s life… max made her feel safe. she guessed it made sense, with max practically being a god and all.

her trembling calmed and she sat there a moment in silence, taking in max’s warmth. if max had truly let her go she must be going through some fucked up “seeing ghosts” type shit right now. like those dreams chloe used to have about her dad but fucking worse. or better, maybe? hopefully better, since chloe, as far as she knew, wasn’t some subconscious grief or regret manifestation.

❝ Max. ❞ chloe took a breath, wiping her wrist against her eyes and her nose. she had really jumped the gun with that little emotional outburst, right?  ❝ It’s not about me, you know. I accepted my fate. I mean, I’d be lying if I said “oh yeah I appeared here and was totally still cool with dying”, because no one really wants to die. But when its you or a whole town full of dumb assholes who also are alive and breathing? Not to sound high and mighty, but it would be really fucking selfish to want to continue building off my life and sacrifice all of theirs. I can’t– I won’t be upset about that decision.  ❞

the sun was setting, casting an orange glow upon the suburbs. it almost reminded her of the sunsets she spent with max that final week. but she figured everything would remind her of that until she got some healing in, right? and what about max? what would her healing process even look like? she saw my dead body so many times, chloe thought, with a guilty glance over at max. does she really deserve to continue thinking about what not even she can change?

chloe easily shrugged max’s embrace off, raising to her feet. her throat still felt tight and her eyes dry, the tears were still drying on her cheeks. but it wasn’t fair to try and unload all of this at once, to either of them. ❝ Regardless, it seems like the universe cant seem to get rid of me. I mean, what other hot chick is gonna challenge time and space with her existence? It’d get real fucking boring without me around. ❞ chloe smiled, extending a hand out to help max up. ❝ Let’s worry about our shared trauma later. I’m hella starving. ❞ had she even actually eaten a real meal this entire time…?

.

   She’s right. Logically, Max would let her go all over again if she needed to -- feel her heart break all over and mourn over again for a wound repeatedly opened up, but do the right thing. Seeing Chloe next to her, though, in her warmth and glory and beautiful profanity, is a hard thing to let go so easily. She only needs to look at her, feel her -- and a feeling pulses in her veins, a hard determination to let the Earth tear itself apart if it means it leaves her life alone. 

   This is bad. She should know better. Call it an impulse, call it the power of love or whatever -- it’s a ‘fuck you, fate’, for all it’s done to them. For how unfair it is to kill a scared girl with a loving family, and to give another powers but make it abundantly clear she’s not allowed to use them without consequences. Max doesn’t respond as Chloe talks, and lets her detach from her arms without much resistance. She doesn’t know if she will make good on her promise -- do all in her ability to prevent her deaths for as long as they’re here -- but she is not taking it back, either, and she is not telling Chloe the opposite.

   I’m letting you go. She’s really tired of letting go. It doesn’t matter; they’re alive, for now. The whys and hows can wait until they have more information. Time travel and storms are quite a separate problem from wherever, and whatever this is.

   Chloe recovers. Her composure, at least. Max looks up to her smiling face, outstretched hand, bold & confident statement against time and space. She smiles back, even if her smile is strained. Exhausted. She is glad to have her back and back into the groove of normal conversations, everyday shit-talking-- they’re okay, and you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth-- but the whole ordeal is new, and unreal, and her mind is still catching up even now. 

   “Okay.” She takes her hand-- heaves herself up to standing on shaky legs. Hopefully nobody has been trying to enter, or leave, while they’ve been blocking the door. “I think I have money... apparently it’s all digital here. I haven’t been out much, so I don’t know what we have to choose from... should we take a look around?”

   Max isn’t in much of a joking mood; but she still raises her voice a little, and tilts her head up, as if calling out to the skies themselves. If they’re going into joking-about-trauma-territory, why not? “Hey, universe, nothing drastic! We’re just trying to eat!”

[clickwhirr]

sparklinghop said:

“What on earth were you doing out there?”

   She doesn’t have a good explanation. Max watches him, lip curled, and turns a glance in the direction of the hole. The plan had been simple; scope it out, see if there’s anything inside, and jump, consequences be damned. Curiousity, and an admittedly naive idea nursed by the many films she’s seen on time travel and testing the boundaries, that being way before she’d found her own.

   She’d left quickly. Standing by the edge of something you can fall into fosters certain implications -- and Max doesn’t want to give anyone that idea when they look at her.

   “I... don’t know.” What is he doing so close to the centre? Max doesn’t mean to look unfriendly, or distrustful, but she is visibly tensing up in his presence. “Just thought it was a good idea. Apparently not...”

[ohnoarno]

“It’s been raining for days.”

“Looks like the rainy season is finally here.”

“Shall I put on a pot of tea?”

“Turn up the heat/put another log on the fire, the rain brought a chill.”

“Close the window, you’ll ruin the flooring!”

“You’re sopping wet.”

“What on earth were you doing out there?”

“Fine, you can come in, but take off your shoes.”

“I don’t need you tracking mud everywhere.”

“The sound of rain is so nice.”

“You’re going out? In this?”

“You can’t go out there, it’s pouring down rain!”

“I like the rain and all, but being stuck inside is so boring.”

“The day would be a lot less boring if you learned how to sit still.”

“I cannot believe we’re stuck in this!”

“Maybe we should find somewhere to take cover until it stops.”

“Does it ever stop raining here?”

“Oh no! The rain ruined our picnic.”

“Want to go for a walk in the rain?”

“Can I have a blanket?”

“Sorry to intrude. This rain came out of nowhere.”

“Look at the sky! The lightning is insane.”

“It’s getting pretty intense out there.”

“A rainy day, warm blankets, a cup of tea, and a book to tie it all together.”

“Let’s go for a walk in the rain.”

“Here, this should warm you up.”

“Come in here before you catch a cold.”

“Ugh, that’s just a silly old wives’ tale.”

“I pity the poor souls caught out in this.”

“Aren’t there any books to read?”

“Rains smells so different in the city.”

“The rain smells better in the countryside.”

“Nothing like the sound of rain to go with a good book.”

“Careful, the tea is still hot.”

-draws on the fogged up windows-

-Flips loudly through book-

-sighs- “It’s so cozy in here.”

[clickwhirr]

saintism​:

          ❝ Yes. As long as I have been here and even a little before, things such as this are common. It has something one usually comes to expect to happen whenever a holiday approaches. ❞

   “Right...”

   “I can’t imagine what will happen with Christmas, then. Should I be worried?”

[dorothygale]

*planet explodes* *removes one earbud* what

[clickwhirr]

   “That was... a strange Halloween. Does this happen often?”

[caleod]

4-11-20

[bykaruma]

Once Kazuma had learned about Halloween he’d carved a few pumpkins (With a sword because of course uses a sword! He’s not about to pass off a chance to flex his skills with a sword) that are now outside of his shared townhouse. 

If he’s going to be embracing the tradition of Halloween, he might as well do a little bit of decorating… He’s already dressed up too, though… Not really the kind of costume he’d like. It’d been his foster sister’s persuading that had him ending up in this… chicken costume. He’ll do this for her, of course, but he definitely can’t say he’s happy wearing such a ridiculous looking costume. 

So, when he opens the door for trick-or-treaters. he’s already pretty irritated. “Take your pick and, if you’ve any jokes about my current costume… Don’t bother. I’ve almost certainly heard it already.”

[clickwhirr]

   “Um, right,” Really, she had no intention on laughing -- Max has seen worse, truly -- but the clash that’s in such a funny costume worn by that serious of a man is admittedly pretty funny. She hasn’t changed costumes for the trick-or-treating; it’s still a green caped suit with goggles, alluding to a superhero that doesn’t really exist.

   She doesn’t feel much like one even now. 

   “Thank you,” She says, softly, and plucks a few out without looking at them too closely. Max recognizes him -- he’s a co-worker -- but figures it would just embarrass him to do small talk right now, so she steps back. “Have a nice Halloween.”

[journalskeeper]

@clickwhirr​

“I like your costume– some sort of superhero, right?”

Lucretia hadn’t found a reason to dress up herself– despite Lup’s assurances otherwise, she worries she might be too old for things like Halloween. But that hasn’t kept her from at least going out to try to enjoy the festivities. And being able to observe the effects of the latest city-wide upset has been interesting, to say the least.

“I apologize if it’s one I don’t recognize– I’m not up to date with a lot of comics and movies from this world.” (or any other this hero may have come from). “Did you get any abilities from the candy?”

[clickwhirr]

   Max isn’t entirely sure if she had a superhero in mind when matching her costume; she’s figured out that trying to do a pop culture figure won’t work on account of many (or even all) of said heroes having the perfect capability of existing in Spirale as more than just a work of fiction. She doesn’t really have any other ideas -- she’s been Super Max for a while without needing to dress up, so it just makes sense to cobble something together to match the name. 

   It’s just a generic green suit-and-cape combo, with a pair of goggles strapped on top of her head. Max hasn’t done much power testing, but she has found herself (to her shock and delight) floating a little bit over the ground. This is how the lady finds her; (barely) in the air, and not quite sure what to do with herself.

   “Oh, it’s -- nobody. No comics or anything. Just me.” She feels a little bad to think about it, but the other doesn’t look that young; Max wouldn’t have assumed she has a whole lot of knowledge on pop culture even if she hadn’t confirmed it. “Sort of. I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to have, but I’ll figure it out eventually... nice costume, by the way. Were you going for the wizard look?”

[lsleofskye]

Serengeti National Park Tanzania | agpfoto

[clickwhirr]

   “...Huh?”

   She’s been a little out of it for the past month or so. “What’s that about... costumes?”

[rprnemes]

Send me a “👀 + a question” and my muse has to answer honestly!