Nadine was finally starting to come from her shocked trance, the one that set in along with the feeling of utter numbness after the orientation in the living room. She’d been floating through the emotions for two days now, smiling as her girlfriend chattered on about how great this was, doing her nightly stretches with a blank mind, eating food without taste. Something had been switched off as she slowly absorbed the new information, and she kept waiting to feel the same excitement everyone else did. Hoping for it to set in, but instead… her dread kept increasing.
It was harder now to keep that smile painted on her lips. Harder now for her to listen, stay perky, upbeat. She felt out of place in the house, a giant towering, everyone asking what can you do? Her super power? Well, she could make herself into a pretzel - but Nadine had always done that. She was a dancer. Flexibility was something she’d constantly worked for - and now, she’d learned it wasn’t even her doing that. It was some stupid science experiment.
“This is bullshit,” Nadine muttered as she left the gym, a slick coat of sweat covering her thin figure, and a frown firmly etched into her face. She let the door close hard behind her, leaning against the wall outside of the work out area. Heaving a long, unhappy sigh, she let down her ponytail, and met eyes with someone she’d had yet to meet. “Sorry - but it is. This whole thing, really. Bullshit.”
The fact that Maxine was now a disoriented wanderer was solely to be blamed on herself. There was an inborn refusal — from the moment she stepped onto this island, the fire of that defiance did not simmer down — to make an acquaintance of the place; to even acknowledge the fact that this would become her new home. Where her mind was, she did not fully know — not yet, at the very least. But this Maxine was certain of: she still denied the reality of her predicament; firmly she upheld the belief that this experiment was nothing short of a rapid come and go, nothing permanent.
However, this innate refusal finally displayed its consequences. Maxine was lost amidst the maze of the mansion. A simple American Colonial home was all she’d known her entire life; one where visitors found it a great feat to lose their way. This was new terrain — unwelcome terrain, it should be added. Maxine was an obstinate individual, a paradigm of the word itself. If her little displays of spite entailed the cost of becoming adrift, then it was a price she was willing to pay.
Then came the sound of voice. Somehow, Maxine had wandered near the general area of the gym. Her primary instinct was to retreat — she did not mind straying from her path, if only to avoid any and all forms of human interaction — but the voice was not without frustration. During her short time here, all Maxine had seen were either enthusiastic faces or nonchalant ones — neither reflecting her sentiments.
Finding the source of the voice, Maxine gave a tiny smile — small it was, but genuine nonetheless — the first she had given since she arrived. ❝Don’t apologize for speaking the truth,❞ Automatically the words came out, just a hint of an agreeable tone in her statement — a contrast to her regular tone. ❝It is bullshit, experiment or otherwise. I doubt it’s even ethical to begin with.❞ She paused, before posing a query. ❝So what did you get saddled with? The ability to talk to squirrels? The power to puff up into the shape of a ball and then bounce around?❞
For a moment Milo remained silent, her words barely registering in his head as he read over and over the same line but couldn’t manage to retain it. He went over his own words checking for any hostility but he had been positively gentle with the newcomer, more than he had been with most of the others so far. Putting his thumb between the pages Milo finally looked up, frown deep in his features as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Perhaps there was someone even worse with people than he was. That would be a surprise.
“Sure, suit yourself. I was just offering,” he offered tentatively, not seeking a fight so early in the morning, not when he was ready for a relaxing hour of solitude that was rudely interrupted by a girl with too much attitude. She looked tired and pissed off so it would’t be too crazy to think her quarrel was not with him but Milo wasn’t one to let others get away with taking their anger out on him. Not anymore.
Surprisingly, instead of annoyance and anger, a short huff of laughter was all that escaped Milo’s lips, shaking his head in disbelief. “Shit, who pissed in your cereal? I’m sorry if me sighing bothered you but it wasn’t personal. I was just looking forward to a few hours of reading and I thought everyone was still asleep,” he shrugged but extended his hand to her anyway. His parents had taught him well, so he wasn’t about to be rude just because the girl wasn’t particularly fond of him. For no good reason at all. “Milo Keller. A terrible, sighing asshole, by the looks of it. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”
It would be a lie to say that Maxine had expected his reaction to be rather laid-back. Her abrasive nature almost always generates outward reactions of aversion or — at the very least — some hints of vexation. Time after time, however, within the span of her present duration in this place — as short as that may possibly be — Maxine’s antipathy was brushed aside. Truth be told, she appreciated the discourse that came along with pissing other people off — a little fact she would never admit aloud, despite the absence of a working filter.
By this time, the regret of electing to abstain from sleep was seeping in. Her head pounded, and her mood only worsened by the minute. This, however, did not stop Maxine from making any untoward comments. Her pride did not allow her to find comfort in silence — petty as it may seem to the spectators of her action. ❝No one pissed in my “cereal”,❞ She made sure that the air quotes were visibly made as she spoke. ❝I don’t know if you misheard me, but I don’t eat breakfast — and that is inclusive of traditional breakfast food.❞ No matter which angle you examined it from, the comeback was poorly executed — this, Maxine knew fully well. Still, she chose to move past it, giving herself leeway for the headache bugging her. ❝Besides, it’s not precisely an option to keep a chipper attitude when you’re smack right in the middle of a knock-off Black Mirror episode.❞
Shifting her gaze towards the extended hand, a stern display of objection plastered itself onto Maxine’s face. ❝I don’t do handshakes,❞ Among many reasons — the mystery of the extent of her abilities being a prime one — Maxine truly detested handshakes — along with the small talk that accompanied it. She did not know how people could sustain such futile chatter, which were time-consuming above all other things — hence, the length of time it took for her to properly respond to his introduction. After an uncomfortably long stretch of what seemed like infinity, Maxine gave a subdued groan before saying with the utmost hesitancy. ❝Maxine Osmond. It’s mildly bearable to meet you, sighing asshole.❞
It’s not new information, for the most part. She’d heard all of this from her parents, before she got on that plane, before she said goodbye to whatever life she had known. Perhaps her greatest regret was that she wasn’t able to take her car with her, especially now that she knew Wolfgang was here with her. Who would’ve thought that he would be part of this, too? Judging by the looks on some of the others’ faces though, she’d wager that they had been blindsided and had not come to the island all that willingly. If she were honest, perhaps she wouldn’t have either, if her parents had not laid out just how far the Initiative’s influence extended. One thing she could thank them for, she supposed, out of the million other things she disliked them for. The situation in the living room was growing tiresome for her, which resulted in Ariella pushing off the wall she had been leaning against to head to the kitchen for a glass of water. Coming back with a glass in hand, she turned to the nearest person in order to suss out the current situation. “ So, what did I miss? ”
If the expression on her face had not been a dead giveaway, Maxine was not enjoying herself. After realizing that her reason for coming to this island had been nothing but a by-product of deceit, the last thing she wanted to experience was a seemingly tedious explanation of the experiment, among other things. The big reveal of what her abilities would be did not help either. The only outcome that it produced was a now inattentive Maxine, consumed by the influx of thoughts rushing through her head. The briefing did not generate any violent reactions or unwanted outbursts from the girl; rather, it rendered her with apathy that transcended contempt. She did not want to be here, but her heart had sunken so deep that she could not bring herself to formulate a proper reaction — at least, not for the moment. Then, a voice: awakening her from her reflection. Maxine turned to the other girl, furrowing her eyebrows at the ease of her query. ❝More bullshit,❞ She spoke plainly, with just a hint of sarcasm seasoning her response. ❝Did the last fifteen minutes not clarify all that for you?❞
The sight of the house in the early morning was something strange and magical. Long, empty hallways completely silent and calm without the rush of all the people making small talk and getting to know each other. It was only their second day there and yet Milo was a creature of habit, unable to break years of his father’s insistence that everyone needed to be awake at the crack of dawn to make the most of the day. The military life was hard, but at least it granted him those calm moments of knowing he was the only one awake.
After a good run along the beach to get the day started and a warm shower to relax his muscles, Milo found himself by the pool’s side clad in comfortable clothes and thick rimmed glasses, a book under his arm, a cup of coffee on the floor beside his chair and a plate full of toast, scrambled eggs and bacon on his lap. It was certainly the perfect morning, but of course the sound of steps behind him alerted him that his morning plans were most likely going to get ruined.
Stubbornly, Milo took a bite of his breakfast and opened the first page of his well-worn copy of The Hobbit to perhaps dissuade the newcomer of talking to him, but instead she appeared in his line of sight and Milo let out a long, exhausted sigh. “Morning. There’s breakfast in the kitchen,“ he muttered, avoiding to mention that he had been the one to prepare it. Luckily the promise of food would grant him at least another hour of silence, so without waiting for her answer, Milo’s eyes returned to his book.
Sleep did not come to Maxine the night prior. If it did, it arrived only for a brief moment before departing once more, leaving the girl with nothing but some very evident bags of exhaustion under her eyes and a rather unpleasant demeanor, even more conspicuous than usual. She became a witness to the waning of the moon and the reappearance of the sun, the occasional yawn interrupting her intense rumination. Her mind spawned a covert protest — hidden even from her: welcoming all feeling of discomfort so the place would feel less and less like home.
This protest, however, was abruptly put on pause. Maxine had — against all other instincts — anticipated that her stay would not last longer than 24 hours — hence, her refusal to unpack. She did not want warmth to abound in her otherwise lifeless room, which, she imagined only to be identical to all others within their residence. To unload — to create the illusion that her stay would be prolonged via the increased comfort — was the last thing she wanted. Still, despite her most profound objections, Maxine was forced to unzip her luggage and unpack at least some things of necessity. The frustration in her mind only grew in size, and this — coupled with the absence of sleep — made a slave of the already rigid girl.
She did not know why, but her feet had led her to the pool area which, albeit a stairway downward, was generally in proximity to her room. At the sight of another person, Maxine readied all senses to about face and retreat to isolation, but the rather overt sigh made her stop in her tracks. Her presence was unwanted — that, Maxine was aware of — but what was she — a girl so proud and obstinate — to do? Egotism prevailed over introversion, leading the girl to take a seat away from her unwilling companion. ❝I don’t eat breakfast. It’s a terrible meal plagued by one too many misconceptions. Its importance is exaggerated,❞ Maxine deadpanned, staring straight ahead, avoiding all eye-contact with the boy. ❝And next time, maybe you could keep the dramatic sighs to yourself, just in case anyone is within earshot. It’s annoying.❞
As soon as Xander noticed Maxine still rooted on the same seat where the news was broadcasted at, he knew something was wrong. They had met before – of course like how most friendships start, with a dash of anger and envy. She had wrongly accused him that the only reason he managed to climb to the position he was at now was because of the connections he had and not through his hard work, which of course, made him defensive and angry. Not only that, he had heard many good things about her work –hence, where the slight jealousy derives from. However, as they worked together, albeit hesitantly for Xander, at first, it was hard for him not to respect Maxine, someone he could tell was truly passionate about their work.
Before the news was given, Xander had caught a glimpse of her and was really thankful he did. Finally, it was someone he knew, someone he could talk to. Of course, he did not immediately cling to her, instead, he chose to converse with the rest first. However, as the news was given, he could see the shock.. no, anger, perhaps a mixture of both, written all over her face. He assumed that it was just because of the whole project itself. Maybe she was unfamiliar with the place, thus why she looked so upset. Xander decided to give her some time to get herself accustomed to the place by exploring the place himself first, before coming back to check on her.
When he came back, he was slightly surprised to see her still there. Maybe the news had a bigger toll on her than he previously thought. He eventually walked towards her, although taking tentative steps, he still did. Before he could say anything, Maxine’s bitter remarks attack him. He stood there, not hurt at her words but instead, clueless as to what to say. However, in the end, he decided to ignore it – not entirely though. “It is pretty fucked up. Signing us up for this strange project and I’m not sure about yours, but mine definitely did not inform me about this. At all.” Xander complained, taking a seat beside her. He chose to dismiss her last statement but took into account that that was why she was upset. He wanted to say something though – like how it was not his fault that she was given those abilities, but he stopped himself.
“Your powers are pretty interesting though.” Xander continues, settling for giving her a compliment – maybe that might cheer her up. “Acid generation seems like something that would come out from a comic book. Have you ever tried using it?” Xander immediately wanted to take back his words and he hoped that his realisation of ‘I just fucked up’ did not show on his face.
A wave of relief unintentionally came over Maxine once Xander positioned himself in the seat next to her. The reaction was not voluntary, by any means, but it seemed as though her very psyche protested as soon as it became aware of the emotion. See, Maxine had this habit — no, it wasn’t so much a habit as it was a distinctive trait of hers — that rendered her incapable of holding her tongue, even in the most dire of situations. Still, it was an irrefutable fact that — albeit her hostility — she did not want to push her negator away. Xander — of all people — prevented Maxine from becoming too much of a walking bio hazard. Harsh her words may be, but she did not intend to ward off the only other individual who bore some control over her powers.
Still, the abrasiveness of her words was something Maxine could not rid herself of, try as she might. ❝My parents didn’t precisely have the time to tell me much about anything,❞ Again, there was clear tone of rancor in her statement, as though she did not even attempt to stop herself. She did — despite what others may believe — but her efforts to control the sarcasm in her voice were not, in any way, evident. ❝Not all of us have that...advantage. In fact, a majority of those whom I’ve met didn’t have the privilege of having everything handed down to them on a silver platter. You get it, right?❞ Her words bled sarcasm. If Maxine had any intent of sifting through her words, it was not obvious.
The power affixed to Xander’s name in the list released earlier instilled a once debunked belief: that his career was defined only by conveniences endowed by fortune. It seemed coincidental — at least, it did within the scope of Maxine’s thoughts — how a doctor as great as he be given abilities that granted him the benefit of hastening the healing process. All pretenses aside, Maxine could not help but wonder how greatly those abilities helped him in his career — if they did at all — leaving her with an even more profound aversion for the experiment.
His comment only aggravated Maxine further. The question was ridiculous; it fostered a sense of disgust in Maxine: that Xander truly did not understand the gravity of her situation. An expression of this disgust willingly appeared on her face. ❝Not yet, no,❞ There was a dangerous tone of cynicism clinging onto neutrality. ❝I’m still on the process of reconciling the fact that my abilities ostensibly oppose all medical ethics I’ve accorded myself by. This little tidbit is something comic books typically leave out, believe it or not.❞
When the other didn’t extend a hand Vanessa simply dropped hers and half shrugged, maybe she didn’t like being touched or maybe she was truly a bitch but it was too soon to tell. Tensions were still high and she tried to put herself in someone else’s shoes who wasn’t so thrilled to be here and be part of a government experiment. It was a lesson she still struggled to learn, that not everyone would respond well to her, or in general.
The sneer was unsettling but she returned only a bright smile. “Oh no! I was just thinking about what they did with my puppy, sorry for zoning out on you!” She grinned again to show she wasn’t upset. “I get rejected all the time, if I let it bother me I’d just be a puddle of tears by this point in my life and I just do’t think that’s very productive.” A laugh escaped her at that.
“I didn’t manage to catch your name, I mean I know you didn’t give it but we might as well try to get to know each other and the bare minimum of that is a name and you have mine so—.” She trailed off, realizing she was talking a lot to compensate for the other girls silence.
Maxine knew of the extent of her harshness. There was no kindness or empathy to coat the words she spoke, no underlying tenderness tucked into the crevices of her statement. Most who came across her path — most, not all — avoided her simply to swivel away from that abrasiveness. Needless to say, the optimistic grin that plastered itself onto the girl’s face — Vanessa, if her memory did not fail her — confounded Maxine — as per the very evident expression on her face.
❝You’re apologizing to me,❞ Maxine replied, deadpan for the most part, with just a hint of confusion to match the look on her face. A scoff slipped past her lips and she shook her head, gazing at the sand beneath her — it almost seemed — for a plausible explanation. ❝I display no hesitation at all to insult you — and not even subtly, I should point out — and you offer me an apology.❞ There was a slight tone of disbelief in Maxine’s voice, though the message originated mostly from an intent to ridicule the other girl. ❝And then you proceed to justify your actions? Seriously?❞ After another noticeable scoff, Maxine ended her — rather unnecessary — tirade.
After her spur of the moment mini-rant, Maxine once more returned to the state of silent seclusion. Frustration still bubbled in the depths of her stomach, partly because of the fact she was stuck on this island with no means of escape; but also partly because of the need for quote-unquote human interaction. It seemed unnecessary, yet the duration of her time here was unknown — the only thought which prompted Maxine to say — albeit in a very vacant tone, ❝Osmond. My surname is Osmond,❞ She paused, wondering if they should proceed to a first-name basis. Foolish as the idea might be, but Maxine believed that first-name basis led to fruitless introductions, and next thing you know, all subjects would hold hands next to a bonfire singing Kumbaya. ❝Maxine. Maxine Osmond.❞ She finally said, after what seemed an eternity of internalization, and not without a hint of hesitancy.
After waking up from an impromptu nap she headed outside, she always felt more at peace with the wind in her hair. The beach was stunning and she wondered where exactly they were but the surroundings were certainly desirable and she felt herself breathe deeper and relax, ribs expanding as she took in the fresh, salty air. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad.
She heard a muffled voice behind her and turned, she didn’t know anyone’s name yet but she smiled bright anyhow, first impressions were important to her. “Hey there!” She paused and stepped forward to offer her hand. “I’m Vanessa.” Nothing had changed for her, not really.
She was fine with putting her life on hold but wondered if someone had thought to give her dog to a friend or her parents. Now she thought about it she wondered if they’d let her have the pup here and for the first time since she arrived she frowned.
Forgotten may the memory be, a kind of fascination for the salty air and coarse sand still dwelt within Maxine’s heart. It was not innate, that she knew, but it existed, nonetheless. She had been so accustomed to the air of large, overpopulated cities ( toxic in a literal sense ) and small, suburban towns ( toxic in a metaphorical sense ). The sun shone brightly and bestowed her skin with warmth; the water extended into the horizon with uncertainty, pure and unmarred — it seemed real, to be perfectly candid. If only the beach where Maxine stood atop now settled in a place like San Junipero, she would’ve — at the very least — felt relieved.
But that was not her predicament; and she was not here to reminisce. Maxine longed to find some way of escape off this island — hoped that, against all odds, someone left a boat nearby. When she found nothing but the clear seas, a cuss hung on her lips. ❝Motherfu—❞ The word was abruptly cut-off by a rather chipper sound.
The greeting perplexed Maxine. How could enthusiasm thrive at a time like this? She looked at the extended hand with both confusion and disdain. ❝I don’t do handshakes,❞ Maxine replied, a twinge of annoyance adorning her tone. Then a frown appeared on the other girl’s face — the reason for which Maxine automatically assumed was her reply — and she wondered — though did not fully care for the thought — if that was her fault. Her foremost response was a sneer, not even attempting to hide her impatience. ❝What, is the rejection too much for you?❞
Captivating views were always breeding grounds for introspection. There was an underlying enigma to all that glamour, fueling all pursuits of rumination, akin to the influence of a sleepless night or a particularly resonant memory. Try as she might to deny it, Maxine had not seen the world through these eyes: where opulence seemed only to abound, leaving its spectator in absolute astonishment. Her mind held no memories of pristine sheets; neither does it recall a time when her feet did not trod with such vigilance in fear of encountering something unwanted.
The sight that lay before her marred any desire to resist contemplation. Maxine had witnessed Time pass before her eyes — the briefing met its conclusion; the sun waned and made room for the moon; and the stars reclaimed their place in the sky, setting the darkness alight — but she remained unmoved. What she felt was too powerful to be fully acknowledged, but too insignificant to be given a name. It resembled shock, more than anything, but it was a kind of shock that rendered her speechless and motionless altogether. There was an unseen force that glued her to her seat — the same seat where the bad news — anyone who daresay it was otherwise earned the sharpest of glares from the girl — was delivered to her: there was power in her very touch, but it was unkind to all those who beckoned it.
A healer Maxine once was, a healer she could be no longer — not with the harm this curse her abilities could potentially lead to. But hope was not lost: there were negators, individuals who essentially robbed the subjects of their powers; and that control lay in someone who was not particularly unknown to Maxine. He once earned her ire, an emotion quickly replaced with respect coupled with envy. She detested him for being endowed with abilities that only enhanced his ability to heal; but, if there was hope for Maxine, it rested on his shoulders.
Just as this thought acquainted itself with her mind, the familiar face — her negator — came into view. Holding her tongue was an impossibility, at least such was the case for Maxine. ❝This is some fucked up shit our parents have gotten us into, huh?❞ The words fell out of her mouth almost immediately. ❝I mean, I guess it is for some of us. I wonder what it’s like — to get abilities you actually want.❞ The last statement was wondered aloud, and not without bitterness: it seeped through her words with transparency completely unrestrained.
Ju was still strolling through the first floor of the residence she woke up in this morning. It was incredibly, mind-bogglingly big, especially for someone who had never seen another home than the one they had grown up in. When her eyes even got tired of all those new sensations, all those objects, rooms and things she had never seen, Ju resorted to using more of her other senses, letting her fingers guide her through the house.
The kitchen looked so very different from the Xiang’s kitchen in their cottage in England. Copper and stone reigned the room back home, the kitchen in the facility looked more like a spaceship bridge than anything else. There was a screen on the fridge they could write on if they wanted anything, they said - anything! Unbelievable.
The counter tops were cold and shiny, there were fruits propped up to grab that Ju had never even seen before. Then there were all these cupboards, filled with all sorts of odd plates, odd cuttlery. There were so many varieties of everything - spoons, forks, knives.
Of course they had had different knives for different uses at home - but no more than three. A butter knife, a sharp one, a bread knife. When Ju pulled open the drawer, tons of different shapes and sizes looked back at her. Huge square ones, oddly curved ones, ones that were split at their tip. Mesmerized, Ju took the latter out into her hand, furrowing her brows trying to think of uses for this seeming child of a two-toothed fork and a knife.
The pain came to her faster than the realisation that Ju had run her left index finger along the knife’s blade. Shocked, the woman dropped the knife right back into the drawer and looked at her now bleeding finger. Her breath came rough. She hadn’t cut herself in ages - her mother always cooked for them at home. It stung. She needed a band-aid. Panicked, she looked around the room and her gaze stopped when she saw a dark-haired girl. Turning her hand, she showed the girl her finger.
There was comfort nestled only within walls of cheap apartments and creaking floorboards. Grand as this place would be — and grand, it certainly was, among a plethora of other things — it would never become home. Maxine shut the idea down the moment she realized she was tricked: the belief that she had been granted a leap forward in her career was nothing more than illusion. Distrust now grew in the depths of her heart, and a place that elicited such emotion would never become home, no. It would be nothing but a lifeless edifice, just a little short of a ghost of a terrible dream.
Maxine limited her adventures to that which necessity dictated. Had the situation been altered just a little bit — had she been spectator instead of participant — perhaps curiosity would’ve thrived. However, this new reality did not allow her to simply spectate — as she once did — and so temperance prevails over curiosity. If it were not for the dryness in her throat — the first sign of a necessity that called out for water — she would have been comfortable within the recluse of her room.
Once her feet had led her to the kitchen, the sight that greeted Maxine, however, drew out the remnants of curiosity she struggled to control. There was a girl — whose age didn’t seem distant from Maxine’s — who succumbed to her own bouts with curiosity. The wonder in her eyes were something Maxine was accustomed to — the same wonder that dwelt within her brothers’ eyes when age had not yet set upon them. But this girl appeared fascinated with the most mundane objects — an action that triggered the inquisitive spectator within Maxine.
And then she saw red, a sight not at all unfamiliar to her. There was panic in the girl’s eyes, and Maxine — a former healer who longed only to help those in need — took a step forward — a response spawned out of pure instinct — but moved no further. Control — it quickly interfered with Maxine’s actions. She stopped in her tracks, allowing only one final motion: retreat. Her feet returned to their original position; an indifferent — albeit tense — expression was now donned on her face.
❝It’s a puncture wound,❞ The coldness in Maxine’s voice made her jump inwardly. She had not anticipated to become so callous in her words, especially when someone was in need of medical aid. ❝Not an avulsion. It’s a simple problem, one you can solve by yourself.❞ And yet Maxine stayed, on the off-chance that this girl did not know how to deal with a small cut.
hey, it’s me, Late to the Party aka nikki. it’s currently summer where i’m from, but i have the worst body clock, so you’ll most likely find me lurking around at odd hours. this is maxine, my newest brainchild. she’s a lil bit grumpy (actually, she’s a lot grumpy) about being a part of the experiment. i wrote a long ass bio, but lbr, ain’t nobody got time for that.
bio page / TL;DR under the cut! i’ll create a rundown of personality traits soon!
[ winona maxine osmond ], subject [ sulphur ] has arrived at the facility safely. the [ twenty eight ] year old arrived from [ USA ] and they’re pretty [ devoted ]. watch out though, i’ve heard they’re [ obstinate ] too, so they might cause some trouble there. { adelaide kane. cis female. she/her. }
TRIGGER WARNING for DEATH, INJURY, CAR CRASH, ALCOHOLISM AND HOUSE FIRE.
maxine was born and raised in a small, suburban town in portland, oregon, which is completely fictitious bc idk how small towns work in the united states tbh. i imagine the aesthetic to be a little like the fake town from the truman show.
love was mostly absent from her parents’ marriage, who often regretted their decision to live in a small town where perfection was pretty much the only thing in everyone’s minds. the neighbors were always nosy and judgmental, so unless you had the most immaculate nuclear family, you’d most probably be ostracized.
max was closer to her mother than her father, since the former showed more affection than the latter ever did.
her parents highkey wanted to get out of the small town and hoped to live bigger, better lives where they didn’t have to think about the flaws in their actions. this is the reason why they said yes to the initiative’s experiment, so they basically wanted to use max as a one-way ticket out of that small town.
they were super excited for max to display at least some use of her powers, but when she didn’t, they reverted to their lifeless, "perfect” selves. they had two more children, who were 5 and 6 years younger than max, respectively. the only reason why max’s brothers were born was because the 3:2 ratio of child to parent looked better in pictures.
fast forward to a few years later! maxine’s mother dies in a car crash and little, innocent maxine tries to close the wound on her mother’s chest with her bare hands. she feels her mother’s last heartbeat as she tries to do this, which is pretty much what started her desire to heal.
after the accident, her father becomes an alcoholic. while he was never abusive, he was never truly there either, leaving the well-being of the household to maxine’s care.
max pretty much grew up overnight. she started managing their finances and paying the bills when she was eight with a system that was crude, but ultimately useful.
when she was fourteen, a fire ravaged their home. her father indirectly caused it and ended up taking the brunt of its consequences. he got trapped under a post and suffered a spinal injury which rendered him paralyzed.
maxine’s and her brothers were virtually bankrupt at this point, since they had to spend most of their money on life support for their father. plus, they had no home. however, maxine was unwilling to surrender protection over her brothers, so she worked double shifts, did her schoolmates’ homework for a fee, and then some.
when the situation of their finances started to look a little better, they moved in to a tiny, cheap apartment right in the middle of the city, partly because maxine wanted to get away from her past.
the next few years were great, especially in comparison to the preceding years. her experiences solidified her intention to become a doctor, so maxine took pharmacy as a pre-med (hoping she could find medicine that would help her father) and eventually she did become a doctor.
she was in her second of residency when the initiative wormed its way back into her life. they told her attending that maxine had been chosen to attend a convention for doctors; who, in turn, told maxine.
maxine was not accustomed to getting a leg up in the competition. she always had to work her ass off to get ahead, since she pretty much didn’t have any connections to give her a boost. so when her attending told her she was chosen, she didn’t hesitate and accepted the offer almost immediately.
plot twist!! there was no convention. it was the initiative’s way of luring maxine to the island with little to no protests. she wouldn’t have come willingly, since she was attached to her mundane life. of course, there’s also the case of her brothers, who would now have to live without their elder sister’s guidance.
so right now, maxine is pretty much an Angery moody babe. she hates being here, there’s no doubt about that. but, more than anything, she doesn’t wanna form any attachments and/or get comfortable because that would mean she’s beginning to adjust to this new life, which is the last thing she wants.
headcanons
maxine is triggered by her own powers. since her touch pretty much entails causing chemical burns, it reminds her of her father’s own injury marked by a burn that covers half his face.
she is an atheist. she used to be a devout catholic, but after her mother’s death, that quickly changed.
she used to let her classmates cheat off her papers/did their homework for them in exchange for money. girl’s gotta earn an extra buck.
she’s never been in a relationship because she literally didn’t have the time. she secretly wants to be in one, she just doesn’t want to admit it.
she keeps a personal record of all her patients, and in her second year of residency (meaning just a few months back), she lost her first patient, the only name she’s ever marked in red.
she’s secretly a writer. she used to make submissions of articles and poems to their school’s newsletter under the pseudonym elbereth gilthoniel. she will never ever ever admit this to anyone, but she may or may not revert back to her writing self during her time on the island. you have full permission to use this against her.
she’s a technophobe. however, her brother saved up just to replace her flip phone from the 90s with a secondhand iPhone 5, which became the only reason why she has a touchscreen phone. she’s also a Black Mirror enthusiast so...go figure.
she hasn’t unpacked anything yet. again, she doesn’t wanna make herself comfortable, so the last thing she intends to do is make this place feel like home.
maxine is a slytherin-gryffindor cusp. her actions are rooted in both selflessness and ambition, one occasionally overshadowing the other.
her mbti is intj and her enneagram is 8w7. she is a rare combination of the two personality types, which can often be characterized by assertiveness, the absence of a filter, and a general reputation for being an asshole. the opposite is shown, however, to those who gain access to their small circle of loved ones.
there was a time when maxine was utterly dependent on coffee. sleep was forfeit to achieve her level of excellence at school, and the only alternative she found was caffeine. that summer, her brothers either hid or threw out every packet of instant coffee from their apartment.
the only reason her siblings were legally allowed to stay with maxine and not with a relative who was of age was through the benefits of the emancipation of minors. it allowed her a degree of independence — legally.
maxine carries a packet of gum with her at all times, especially prior to taking part in a major operation. she traces this habit back to mother giving her pellets of gum in secret during the first day of school.
at one point in her life that spanned a rather lengthy amount of time, maxine was culturally ignorant. it was only when movie and show torrents proliferated throughout the internet did she truly appreciate the thought and work that went into films and tv series. inflation made slaves of the Osmond household and rendered them unable to see films when they first appeared in theaters, so illegally downloading them provided the siblings with an avenue to enjoy movies in their entirety.
maxine’s music library is comprised mostly of songs from the ‘80s and late ‘70s. david Bowie and Queen especially influenced her taste in music.
WE’RE DREAMING WITH OUR EYES WIDE OPEN → a mixtape
where once was light
now darkness falls
where once was love
love is no more
don't say goodbye
don't say i didn't try
these tears we cry
are falling rain
for all the lies you told us
the hurt, the blame...
and we will weep to be so alone
we are lost
we can never go home
TRACKLIST
mercury // sleeping at last
yet i know, if i stepped aside
released the controls, you would open my eyes
that somehow, all of this mess
is just an attempt to know the worth of my life
shake it out // florence + the machine
and i'm damned if i do and i'm damned if i don't
so here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope
and i'm ready to suffer and i'm ready to hope
it's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat
never enough // loren allred
towers of gold are still too little
these hands could hold the world but it'll
never be enough
never be enough
holding on and letting go // ross copperman
some prayers find an answer
some prayers never know
we're holding on
and letting go
writer in the dark // lorde
sorry i was never good like you
stood on my chest and kept me down
hated hearing my name on the lips of a crowd
did my best to exist just for you
devil in me // halsey
you said i would've hit the ceiling
you said i
you said i should eat my feelings
head held high
youth // daughter
chasing visions of our futures
one day we'll reveal the truth
that one will die
before he gets there
she used to be mine // sara bareilles
and you're not what i asked for
if i'm honest, i know i would give it all back
for a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two
for the girl that i knew
mama’s tears // corey kilgannon
mama's tears
that quiver in her voice as she says
"son don't you dare think you won't be missed when you're gone
but please be strong and please move on"
pluto // sleeping at last
still i’m pinned under the weight
of what i believed would keep me safe
so show me where my armor ends
show me where my skin begins
lazarus // david bowie
this way or no way
you know i'll be free
just like that bluebird
now, ain't that just like me?
dream // imagine dragons
and i watch from a distance seventeen
and i’m short of the others dreams of being golden and on top
it’s not what you painted in my head
there’s so much there instead of all the colors that i saw
heroes // peter gabriel
and the shame, the shame was on the other side
oh we can beat them, for ever and ever
and we could be heroes
just for one day
izzy806
andulkaphoto
jacobvanloon
pixelskylines
dailybridgerton
