#v:postgame

[scarypunkghcst]

polaroidreveries cont.

She should’ve seen it coming; there was no way Chloe was actually going to feed her a bite of cake, even as a joke.

Well, at least part of it reached her mouth, so now she was covered in cake crumbs and frosting and was talking with food in her mouth. A true epitome of grace.

“You jerk, I should’ve known you’d do that.” She chewed and swallowed and then wiped what she could away with her hand, effectively smearing the remains further.

Max snorted with laughter.

“So how do I look?”

Chloe laughed at Max’s reaction and even more when she spread the frosting and everything even more over her face. “Delicious.” Was all she said when she almost calmed down, before wiping some frosting off Max’s face with her finger and sucking on it. “Yep. The cake’s geat.”

[scarypunkghcst]

@rowanred81

[text]: Max

[text]: Maax

[text]: Maaaaaaax

[scarypunkghcst]

themaxfactor1995

“Soooooo~” Began Chloe nonchalantly, after walking around with Max in silence. It’s christmas in a few days and Chloe still didn’t have a present for Max. And so after thinking about it for weeks, she decided to just ask her. “What do you want for christmas?”

[cl0nes-dr0nes-salt-blog]

"From now on, the car is a place of silent reflection."

Brooke chuckled. Maybe meeting up after all this time hadn’t been the best idea. She and Max had diverted pretty hardcore; after all, it’s not often a student at an art school goes into the field of Artificial Intelligence. Brooke had just gotten her undergraduate degree in computer science, and she wanted some time off, so she’d come back to Arcadia Bay.

To be fair, Max had asked her what she’d been doing since the incident. The answer she’d gotten had probably taken her off guard. “I’m basically in the field of making humans obsolete,” she’d said. “The goal is twofold: solve the control problem, and create a general purpose artificial intelligence that is at least on par with human intellect. Anything less intelligent and we don’t need it. On par is ideal, but that’s a really small target. Though, to be fair, if it’s on par with us we don’t have to worry as much about the control problem. That’s, like, Terminator or whatever, by the way, trying to make sure the AI doesn’t just fucking kill us. Which a lot of people are worried about. And if it’s smarter than us, then we really have to worry about that.”

“Sorry. I’ll try not to talk about possible apocalypses anymore. How’ve you been, Max?”

[cl0nes-dr0nes-salt-blog]

“Do you have a deathwish or something? Jesus!”

Brooke slammed her hand on the motel room desk, hoping the sound wouldn’t make it through the receiver to Ashley. She knew it was a bad idea, but to be fair her bad ideas seemed to have a way of panning out for her. “Dammit, Ash!” She said, trying and mostly succeeding at keeping her voice down. “That drone means everything to me. I know you don’t get that. I’m not asking you to. But I need to get her back. I need to. And if that means climbing Blackwood right the fuck now, then I’m gonna do it.” She put her jacket on and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Now you can help, or you can shut it. What’s it gonna be?”

[cl0nes-dr0nes-salt-blog]

“When’s the last time you slept?”.

Brooke looked at her phone to check the time, then back at Kate, then back at her phone. After processing the information, she finally answered with, “A while ago. I’ve been....” Brooke paused, trying to figure out how to phrase it, “busy.” She tried to smile, but it didn’t feel like it was working, so she stopped.

“I...don’t know how best to put this,” she said, turning from her brand new computer, “but the reports said that you were...unaccounted for...” Brooke brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “After the storm.” Two years, Brooke thought, for two years, everyone has thought she was dead. And I just...bumped into her.

“I...there’s so much for us to catch up on,” Brooke said. “There’s a coffee shop just down the street. Do...you have a problem with coffee?” She didn’t know where to start. She’d done everything she could to put Blackwell, the storm, Arcadia Bay, all of that behind her, to move on with her life. And here she was, staring at a computer screen, working on cracking AI for two days straight, and Kate shows up.

[cl0nes-dr0nes-salt-blog]

“Is this what a dislocated shoulder feels like?!”

Brooke frowned. She would’ve figured that the boots-on-the-ground save-the-earth BSAA agent had experienced a dislocation before. Taking a quick look at Moira, she nodded. “Yup,” she said. “That’s dislocated.” She was pretty sure it was broken, but Brooke figured telling Moira that right that second might not be the best idea. Instead, she rummaged through her pack as quickly and quietly as she could. “Let’s see. Crowbar, canteen, flask, aha!” She produced a small bottle of pills. “These should stop the pain, and keep the swelling down.” She shook the bottle of painkillers. “I’d offer to pop it back into place, but odds are I’d just make it worse.” Brooke wasn’t lying when she said that, even if the underlying presupposition was false. She handed Moira the bottle, zipped up her pack, slung it over her shoulder, and began to take stock of their surroundings. A couple overhead lights flickered ominously, but most of them were just out, probably damaged by the storm. Brooke had been talking to Moira when the tornado hit, right outta nowhere. Now the storm had blown over, Brooke’s priority was damage assessment and control. “We need to get you to a hospital. Or at least a clinic, get that shoulder taken care of.”

[cl0nes-dr0nes-salt-blog]

maxeffect started following you

Brooke wasn’t really big on talking to people since the incident. Too many loose ends, too much to process all at once. She’d let late payments slide with increasing frequency. It seemed the town’s dirty laundry was finally airing itself out, without Brooke’s intervention.

Which may have been why Brooke was surprised to see Max standing in the doorway to her dorm. Repressing the urge to snap at her, Brooke instead nodded to the other girl. “If you’re here with a complaint, take a number,” she said with a broad, sweeping gesture. “But if you’re here for genuine conversation, by all means, cross the threshold.” Brooke did her best to imitate a smile. But that got more difficult each time she walked past the bloodstained tiles of the girls’ restroom.