«« R E W I N D.

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««. rcyalveined.

His voice cracked at the end. Indicating his brink to insanity. Where is his medication? He needs it now. He needs to be alone. He just wants to sleep. He felt himself weaken and for a moment he lies there. He felt so pathetic but it wasn’t the first time. Or second or even third. He always did.

            “NO ONE knows about the photo. If anyone ELSE sees it, I’ll             fucking—I can’t let Mr. Jefferson see I tried to copy him…!” 

He clammed up. FUCK to the power of ten he nearly slipped up. He scurried towards the photo and took it. He held it tightly between his grasp. God if someone sees this. Oh god. He clutches his head in panic. 

                     —I’ll jump off the dorm roof too if anyone                          find this! I can’t let Max take this. I could                         kill her now. This shit town can’t do me in.

            “I’ll say it again. Get out and… and don’t take this away from me.”

Subtle shifts towards the photograph of Chloe come to a complete stop. Mr. Jefferson, he'd said, but what did their teacher have to do with anything? Nothing, as far as she knew. Not in terms of copying, because Nathan's work didn't look like his published bits. The information sticks, and she nearly questions him right away on it. She's sure that if it wasn't for his demeanor, she would have. Her hands fall back to her sides. Fingers curl in, nails press against her palms, and she's uncurling her fingers again. A few times, repeated motion, while her weight shifts from foot to foot. He told her to get out, and theoretically she could. She had new information that would give them something else to go off of, but she needed more. 

A breath of relief comes when the distance between them stays the same. Nathan's distracted; he's not paying her as much attention now, and that's what she needed. In an instant her hand is raising again, but this time she can feel the world shift around her. Colors dart, swirl, and she can see events unfolding again in a blur of motion: Nathan pulling his gun out, her fingers clawing at his cheek— all the way back to right before she pushes him. Once he's falling, once he's pulling out his gun, Max scrambles for what to do. She didn't think rewinding to this point through all the way . She just wanted more information on one thing. Right before Nathan can speak, she does. 

            “—Stay where I and don't use my powers?               Is that what you were going to say?” Look,               I'll give it back to you, okay? Just put the gun               down. Please. I want to ask you a question               about Mr. Jefferson, that's it. No games, no               rude comments. Deal?”

Okay, maybe fucking with him isn't the best thing to do, either. No matter what her outlook on Nathan is, she still feels BAD for doing this. Rewinding, throwing his own words back in his face... she feels a sort of GUILT.  

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««. rcyalveined.

 Nathan sat down beside Max, freeing him from his grip. He could trust her. Yeah. He could trust her like Victoria and Rachel. Maybe… Just maybe she might be like them. Swoop into his life and make him smile.                         

                          “When I was younger…”

He told her about growing up in his household. He told her about how much he looked up to his older sister. Kristine was his light, his saviour,his everything. She was the first girl to make him smile. He loved his sister to death. He was close to her. But she left him and he had no one to run to when his father demeaned him. But since he was his only son, he was the heir to the Prescotts.

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Max sat there, right next to Nathan, and did what she thought right. She listened. 

His family background hadn't been expected, but she accepted it. She'd nod the slightest bit to urge him on, show that she was listening. There's nothing that she could say to make this part easier, but she could at least show that she's grateful for the opportunity to learn more. To actually be there. The more she learns, the more she starts to understand him. Through the family line, up until recent events. Lips tilt into a frown when he starts talking about Rachel, about what he did. It's nauseating hearing it all. Standing by while it happened to Rachel, allowing it to happen again to Kate with the pressure of the world around him. Max couldn't entirely blame him. She wanted to, it would have been so easy then. No, instead she's raising a hand and, hesitantly with skittish hint of a deer, placing it on his arm. His family, his LIFE had been shit. But he's not alone in it. Not... anymore.

             “Chloe talked about Rachel a lot.               She seems like she was sweet from what               I heard. She seemed... nice. I would've               liked to know her.”                                                 ...but it's not the way the world works. Teeth catch her bottom lip and shoulders hunch forward. God, it's such a relief that he actually did go. It's more of a relief that it was herself rather than Victoria. No matter how terrified she had been... she'd rather it be herself than anyone else. Victoria isn't a bad person; Max knew that. 

             “We went to the Vortex Party to find you. We               found the bunker that day, but, God we thought               it was you. Your jacket was there, the binders               were there, but we both saw Victoria's name.               I found her at the party, I warned her.               She... believed me. She was worried about you.              “He sent a text from your phone, and we followed               it blindly. Right to the junkyard and he... he shot her.               Right by Rachel. I couldn't even help her like I tried               to help Kate. Whatever drug he used... it stopped me.               I couldn't do shit. First you shoot her, and then               he does, and I can't...” She drops her hand away from him to rub at her palm. He doesn't know about that, dumbass. You'll have to explain it sooner or later now. And sooner's looking way better.              “I don't know anything about being normal,                but I know that you can be nice. You're already               doing that. Breaking away from this cycle, saving               me and wanting to save Victoria, you have the               potential. You just have to choose it. No one               controls you; you make your own decisions.” A breath in. A breath out.

              “Which is why my question may seem weird,               and you’ll think I’m worse than you already do:               have you... ever noticed anything weird after               talking to me? Like Deja Vu, or some weird               'Groundhog Day' shit?”

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                  — STARTER CALL!

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««. rcyalveined.

He feels her nails dig into his skin, a hand reaches up to touch his injured skin. He groans in pain and pulls out his gun. Then he is feeling himself topple backwards. He needs that photo! Enough is enough. She won’t let this bitch come into his life and ruin it even more than it is. He’s gone through and still is going through enough torture.

                                         “Don’t move! And don’t you dare use                                           your gift. Your POWERS!”

He screeched, pointing the gun at her. He hated how he had to rely on a weapon to fight his battles. But this was all he was trained to know. When in doubt, duke it out. When you feel you’re about to lose, shoot ‘em. 

                                        “I know you’re a fucking weirdo but you’re some kinda                                         of anime, mary-sue, bullshit character! Maybe it’s just                                         me. But EVERY TIME I’m around you, I get a sense of                                         deja vu, like I’ve been there before. You have a power                                         Max. I have no clue what it could be but you have the                                         power to make people feel like they’ve gone through the                                         same day before.”

He slowly inched himself towards the location of the photo. He can’t let her show it to ANYONE. He was scared to know what Mark would think if he mimicked him. He can’t let her to this to him. He wished his life was never dipped in shit…

It's such a small victory, being able to knock Nathan Prescott to the ground. So worth it, even once the gun comes into view. What started out as a step towards where the picture landed ends as her hands partially raising. Good job, Max. Way to make the worst fucking mistake possible.

             “Powers, really? You're insane.” 

But that doesn't mean it actually stops her. Momentary panic sets in— he's trying to mess with her, but it WORKS. Even if he doesn't know he's right, he still is, and it's enough to make her wonder if she's that obvious. If, maybe, he knows something she doesn't. Which is impossible, right? Right? Still, if it were any other situation where her life wasn't in particular risk, she would have laughed at being related to an anime character by Nathan Prescott of all people.               “Or delusional. That doesn't even make SENSE.              How would someone be able to do that?              It's impossible. Not me. Maybe it's just you.” As he inches towards the photo, Max tries to do the same. Slighter movements, smaller shifts in her step. She bites the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood while she thinks of what to do. Risk having Nathan shoot her like he did to Chloe while she tried to rewind? Not yet. 

             “Just put the gun down, Nathan. You're in a              public area; there's people across the hall and              next door. Someone's bound to hear you and              come check— how bad would it be to be caught              with a gun out? You said you didn't have one.                                               You'd be branded a liar.”                     (   Because that's all she needs is for him to divert his                          attention from her, just for a few seconds. He could                          pick up the picture, that's fine. She can get it back                          easily enough. She just needs an opening.   )

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««. hipsteriish.

                                ‘ super max and her trusty sidekick                                              tearing up the streets of Portland.                                              sounds like hella fun!                                                              Plus, I need a break                                             from all this detective work. ’

            “Just think, we wouldn’t have to stress about              things for five minutes. We could walk around,              visit silly tourist spots—                                     it’ll be like we’re kids again.”

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(   blonde-haired-vixen liked for a starter   )

           “Look, Victoria. It's been a REALLY long day.             If this is about Nathan getting suspended,             I don't want to hear it.”

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(   singinghomo liked for a starter   )

             “I know this might seem weird, but               TRUST ME when I say I don’t think               you should do that.”

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undefined

YO FOR THOSE OF YOU AFFECTED BY THE UPDATE: just install tampermonkey (here’s a link for those of you on chrome, aaanad here’s their official site), and then use this script!! it actually works and is v nice tbh. hope this helps some of you!!! ♥♥

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««. rcyalveined.

                          “It… happened so fast, Max. I just got tired of him pushing me around.”

He stayed silent and looked at her. He sat on his couch and kicked his feet up. They both deserved rest. He linked his fingers together, his eyes were burning again. He brought a hand to his face and tears rolled down his face.

                         “Well fuck—”

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Her hands fall away from her face to her lap once more. Too much has happened in such a short amount of time. It was hard to sort through it all and make sense of everything.

Nathan had been their suspect, the brunt of their suspicions, but they had been wrong. He had a part in it, that much hadn't change, but he wasn't in charge of it. God, she feels horrible that Warren hurt him, and that she snuck into his room in the first place. Momentary guilt, but it's enough. 

Because it's SICKENING and it's HORRIFYING to hear that she would have been a victim, if circumstances fell right. She would have been NEXT after Victoria. She could have ended up like Rachel, or Kate. And she wouldn’t have suspected it at all. Mr.Jefferson had given her no reason to suspect him as a part in any of this.  Once upon a time she came back to Oregon shy and timid, not wanting to stick her neck out into conversations that didn't include her. She'd avoid talking in class, avoid handing in photos plagued by insecurities, but now it's like she's someone completely different. It feels like Monday's years away, when in reality it's only a few days past. So much had happened. Her class will never be the same. Her life will never be the same. She's not even sure what to expect within the next 24 hours. Now Mark Jefferson.... is dead. Rachel is dead. Chloe is dead. The police will find them all, and then what? What can she do? Nathan is responsible for one death, two if he looked at it that way. But Max didn't want it to get that far. If there's a way to fix this... she wants to take that. She'd give anything to go back to Monday and fix this all.

           “What you did to Kate made you an asshole.             And assaulting Chloe in the first place. Even if he was             having you do that... you still did it. I can't ignore that.             “But no, I don't think you're one entirely. You're right:              you saved me and you didn't have to. I should be thanking              you instead of calling you names. I'm not going to laugh              at you for doing that, Nathan. I'm not going to act like an              ungrateful brat. I'm glad you showed up, really.              After this week, I'm not sure if I deserve it.” Yet he deserves it. He deserves more, she's realizing, than she'd given him. He'd gone about warning her the wrong way— how was she supposed to know what he meant? There had been too much going on, and as soon as she would have had a moment to think about it that way, she was already knee deep in finding Rachel. Helping Kate. If she can get Nathan off the hook, then she will too. She could use another ally in all of this, dare she even say an acquaintance if the olive branch could be extended that far.

            “At this point, I don’t think it’s a bad thing you shot him.             There’s totally enough to back you up as saying it was              self defense. They can’t pin all of this on you. I’ll help you.              It wouldn’t be fair for you to face this alone.”                                I don’t owe him this, but it’s not fair to him.                               It’s the least I can do. Fixing all of this is                               possible; I just need to figure out how.

His grip doesn't loosen, but she doesn't try to worm out of it. This is the first time she's been accepting of it, and right now she'll keep that. And she’ll nod and keep eye contact.         “Tell  me what happened, Nathan. Tell me everything.”

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««. rcyalveined.

He slammed the door shut behind him. This is the only place he can be vulnerableand get away with it. He won’t let Max swoop in and take the only place he can lose himself away from him! His BREATHING increased in speed and SOUND. It wasHARD and AIRY. He began to feel his hand shaking, with a bit of fear and nervousness. All he could think of was why. WHY.

                   “Y-You know—” he cut himself off, inwardly cringing how                    his voice cracked and he stuttered. He was breaking slowly.                    “You know how David Madsen wanted to put cameras all over                    this fucking place and even in the dorms? HOW would you feel

                   if your privacy was taken away from you? The place you call home?                    You’re being fucking WATCHED everyday, no place to… to fucking let                    loose and be alone.”

                                     — She stick her nose into your business, sneaks                                     into your dorm, opened her mouth and said you had                                      a gun… you… you did but you got caught. Thanks to                                     her I’m a failure… no… I was failure before her…                                     Fucking Max Caulfied is a nosy ass BITCH I need to                                     silence…

He charged up to her and gripped her but her stupid looking shirt. His dark blue eyes lock onto hers. He bite his bottom lip thinking of what to say and how to say it. When he got an idea, he shook her and tightened his grip.

                   “I’m SICK and TIRED of repeating myself, Maxine Caulfield. Keep your                    fucking nosy self out of my business. Curiosity KILLED the fucking cat.                    CURIOSITY FUCKING KILLED THE CAT!!

                   The next time there will be no more warnings, Maxine!!

                   And give that photo back. I NEED it.”

He reached over and grips it, fighting for it out of her grip. He can’t lose that photo. He can’t let it be seen. Not even Mark Jefferson knew about it…

Nathan slammed the door shut. The picture, her own grip on the situation, continued to face him, albeit starting to quiver slightly as her fingers shook. It'd be a lie to say she wasn't nervous, possibly going as far as admitting to being scared. What stood between her and her exit was someone unstable and angry at the cause of her own actions. 

             “I don't care, David Madsen has nothing to do with this              right now. You're the one who had this shoved in here,              and you're the one who drugged her AND Kate!              Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”

She's all bark and no bite— bad habit no doubt picked up from hanging around Chloe, but it could help. Make him falter, hesitate long enough that she could push past him towards the door. But no, Max backed up as he surged forward, enough for her to bump against the edge of his desk before being pulled forward again. Too close for comfort, too close to do anything now. There goes that plan.

             “Hey, knock it off! Let go of me!”   Her hand moved to grab at his own, try to pry them off of his shirt. He's taller, and with shaking her it made it hard to throw him off. She tried and she'd continue to try, fighting to back out of his hold without dropping the picture or slipping and giving him more leverage than he already had. Much like their meeting in the parking lot, Max's hand pushed at his face. Back, fingers hooking so nails would bite into his skin to try and pry him off of her.                                  Switch hands! You can't do anything like this.                                                          You can rewind and fix this— And the picture fell to the floor. In a haphazard attempt to get it away from him she kicked it off to the side towards the couch, shoving her weight forward and into him in an attempt to dislodge him.

[photographor-blog]

««. crowiiisms.

“It’s not bugging me if it’s a favor, no worries!”

             “Thanks, I owe you. Big time.            I didn’t get blood on anything, right?” 

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lays in here & pulls Max into cuddles

              “Okay,I’m not going to complain,                but what brought this on? I kissed               you once and now you’re all over me?”

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««. rcyalveined.

His hands were shaky and sweaty. Each breath he took trembles against his throat. His eyes BURNED with the hot tears lining his bottom eyelids. Reality was moving in SLOW MOTION for him. But finally he came to. It all happened so fast. The argument, the yelling and then—BLAM!

He shot Mark Jefferson.

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She felt heavy, like a weight in the bottom of the bay, pushed far down below the surface with no hope of returning. Her chest hurt, her arms lead— there wasn't a chance she could keep her eyes open for long. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Chloe. Every time she closed her eyes, she was reminded of what had happened, and she couldn't stop it. 

Chloe was dead. Jefferson had... he'd... and then she was out, no doubt brought to the dark room. No doubt to her OWN death after what she'd seen.

But what she expects never arrives. When she comes to, slips out again, there's fear— it's expected that she'd be terrified after everything, wanting to cry and shake and scream for someone, but lacking the proper ability to. No, she's still laying there, waiting and waiting in a state of paralysis while her consciousness drifts...               (   She thinks she hears yelling at one point, arguing,                    but it wouldn't make sense because she's the only                    one here as far as she knows. Only her and Jefferson.   ) It's the shot that brings her through again. A single ring, and for a second she wondered if Chloe hadn't died, until she remembers seeing it happen for herself. Eyes manage to open, she can lull her head enough to see Nathan being the one holding the gun. See Nathan walking towards her and she can't shy away like she wants to. He picks her up, he talks to her, but she can't respond. Max can't do much but fall back into the state of limp dozing until the drug wears off, leaving her to wake feeling disoriented. Tired. Gross.

Her head is pounding, but at least she can move now. It's slow at first, but she manages to push herself up and onto her elbows before slipping and falling back, raising a hand to rub at her forehead. She opens her eyes after, instantly knowing where she is by the projector situated above the bed.                         “Where...?” Voice comes out hoarse and she winces. She pushes herself up again, managing to sway to sitting. There's no direct attempt to get away or run; she knows she can't right now. If there's anything she's learned at this point, it's that she's excelling in letting herself down. Letting everyone down. 

            “Nathan? You...             What happened? Did you... did you find Chloe?             She... he fucking shot her— but you shot him.              Right? You... I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

A choked sound. She puts her face in her hands, feeling ultimately SAFE for a few moments. More so than she had recently. All she needed was a few seconds to gather her bearings, set herself straight— but she couldn’t. Each time she closed her eyes she saw Rachel. Chloe. Her power failing, and maybe it’ll work now, but she’s been through so much. She can’t bring herself to raise her hand and try. She’s 18 and human; she’s not a super hero. 

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««. crowiiisms

“Uh… You alright? Your nose is bleeding.”

            “I’m fine. I guess I got a little too excited.              Sorry, could I bug you to find me a tissue?”

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officially rebooting this blog! ( for reals this time ) rules have been slightly updated, threads are reset, so…                   — STARTER CALL!