max caulfield. ( life is strange ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
analogthis) wrote2030-01-26 08:00 pm
analogthis) wrote2030-01-26 08:00 pm
open rp/inbox
open rp
THIS POST IS ALWAYS OPEN TO EVERYONE.
COMMENT W/ A STARTER, TEXT, OR PROMPT. CODE BY TESSISAMESS
COMMENT W/ A STARTER, TEXT, OR PROMPT. CODE BY TESSISAMESS
no subject
So you're just fucking with time? Constantly?
( didn't she watch back to the future? doesn't she know how bad the consequences are going to be? he doesn't say as much, also not wanting to ruin things for once. when he's sober, he'll call her a dumbass and tell her to stop fucking with things — if he remembers to. )
You... You went back in time to stop me from fucking up. You must've. No way I got all this right in one shot.
( indeed it's been one continuous timeline where he's never killed chloe, never ripped the photos off max's wall, never received a text calling him 'cute' for his running commentary on her freckles. he knows himself better than that. )
... Don't tell me. I don't wanna know.
( and to ensure she doesn't say another word, he kisses her, leans across her crossed legs, kisses into her mouth as he thinks of the freckles running along her thighs. soft force, warm lips. the thought grows quiet and he feels better for it. he can't know. it'd be gruesome to know. )
no subject
"To stop him from fucking up." "No way he's got it all right." These words he's saying are telling. He knows he's doing shit that's wrong. He knows he does things he has trouble controlling. It's moments like this that clarify to her that he can be helped, and she needs to help him. He may think he's some sort of monster, rotten to the core, a total fuck-up, whatever. Max doesn't think that. She doesn't think that and she's the one who's helped stop him from fucking up. If she, of all people, can believe that... It's gotta be true. Right?
Thankfully, he shuts her down before she can give him any actual detail about how she's fixed things. He doesn't want to know. Well, that takes some weight off her shoulders, a little bit. Though she isn't certain whether it's good for him in the long run to not know... Then again, maybe it's enough that he knows she did something, fixed things. Maybe he doesn't really need to know all the details.
He kisses her, and Max sighs into it, allows the rest of the tension in her body to release as she drops his hand so she can wrap her arms around his neck instead, holding onto him and nearly pulling him on top of her.
Makeout in a car. Guess she can cross another one off of her bucket list.]
🤪
victoria knows this because nathan is always picking up drugs for them. he doesn't give her details, says he doesn't want her getting involved in that shit. it's strangely chivalrous, how he wants to protect her more than he wants to protect himself.
while it's not uncommon for him to disappear sometimes (see: the previous week), he's good about this stuff. he wouldn't keep them waiting. and he always, always answers her texts. maybe with just a word or two, but he never leaves her hanging. the fact that it's taken this long means that something is wrong.
it's the creepass in the rv, the druggie fuck, he must've pulled a gun on nathan.
she doesn't know exactly how drugs deals work, but the weed and the blow has her imagination running wild. when it gets to be too much, she gets to her feet under the guise of "just getting some air". the smart thing to do would be to bring the football guys with her, just so they can put the moves on that druggie psycho frank, but she's not feeling particularly smart right now. she's antsy, ready for action. she'll kick a motherfucker in the face with her red bottoms if she has to. for nathan, she'll do all that and more.
no rv in the parking lot, but nathan's truck is there. it's dark, but she sees his shadow inside. what's he doing in there, hitting the stash alone? it's possible, but victoria suspects he's on the phone. his dad, they have these long, drawn out arguments, ones that end with nathan either seething or sobbing. what better time for one of sean prescott's famous lectures ?
victoria will rescue him. victoria, with powder residue on her nose. victoria, who isn't certain she can string together a sentence without slurring. she'll save him. she'll pull him back into the party where he belongs. )
God, Nathan, I was dyyyinggg in there. These poser losers drive me crazy...
( she's speaking as she yanks open his door. the interior light comes on, and for a moment, she's speaking solely to his back. she squints against the light, sees a pair of legs beneath his, sees hands clutching his neck. he turns to look at her, slowly, and below him— )
Max???
omfg you're WILD
She looks quickly to Nathan with wide eyes, trying to gauge his reaction, before whispering to him. She's going to leave this up to him. Victoria is his friend. He deserves to get to decide how much she knows.]
If you need me to rewind, say so now.
no subject
she's still going on about that? doesn't she know when to give it a rest? life can't all be pirates and witches. )
Vic, Jesus, don't you knock? ...Logan and I took bets. In the end, I kinda felt sorry for her, you know?
( he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, like he can't wait to be rid of her. cruelty fills in the cracks left behind by sincerity. )
Pretty slutty for a hipster virgin, too. But I got her first.
( in an instant, everything is right with the world. what was once upsidedown is now rightsideup. victoria laughs as nathan descends from the truck, out into the parking lot.
"Not like she'd get laid any other way. Poor thing... Next time, cut me in the deal. I would've put all my money on you, babe."
and vic takes a photo with her phone. "Caption: Virgin's big night out. Iconic." )
make good choices, nate~
Fuck all of this. The second Vic snaps her little photo, Max is rewinding as far as she possibly can go. With the alcohol in her system, that's about to right before she mentioned people-watching.
It hurts. Emotionally (he'd really throw her virginity back in her face like that?), but also physically. Her head throbs and her nose starts bleeding, but she pushes Nathan away forcefully and hops out of the truck. She tries to run, but her vision is getting blurry... Before it goes black.
She drops to the pavement of the parking lot, out cold.]
he's doing great 🥰
Max? Max!
( maybe she wants to go back to her friends. maybe this is too weird, being cute and cuddled up like they were. he doesn't get the chance to ask her what's wrong before she collapses. weak limbs, bloody nose. overdose? did she overdose? nathan hadn't given her anything, and no one goes from pot to heroin in a matter of days.
he crouches beside her, shakes her shoulders, tries listening to her heart. )
Fuck, Max, c'mon. Wake up. You're okay. Don't fuck with me like this. You're okay. Wake up...
( who does he call? vic? dana? ...jefferson? if anyone knows how to deal with passed out chicks, it'd be him.
in the end, nathan calls an ambulance. )
no subject
She groans, and brings a hand up to touch her forehead, jostling her IV. Shit.
Shit.
Memories come back first and her face suddenly feels hot, tears threatening to spill over as she opens her eyes.
Hospital. Because she'd blacked out. She'd pushed herself too much. This is bad, though. They'll notify her parents. She undoubtedly had alcohol in her system, so they'll learn that (though likely will be quick to forgive her, knowing them). Did they do tests? ...Do they show anything? Is she literally damaging her brain by manipulating time?
Gaze jumping around, she can tell she's not in a room yet. Maybe the ER, then? If they haven't had time to admit her properly, maybe they haven't had time to do tests either.
Her eyes land on Nathan, and her heart rate jumps. Thankfully, she's not hooked up to any machines - the sudden beeping upon seeing him would be hella embarrassing.]
You came with me?
[She's not sure what to do with that, considering the shitshow she'd had to rewind. The betrayal, the hurt.]
no subject
if he could pull that off, it might make the hell of living as a prescott worth it.
he's leaning against the wall beside her, tapping his foot, unable to keep still. nothing more sobering than watching someone collapse right in front of you. )
You're up? Shit, how do you feel?
no subject
Headache. A little sore on my side. [Likely where she'd hit the pavement. She jolts up suddenly as something occurs to her--]
Oh no! My camera was in my bag!
[That was Chloe's dad's. If she broke it... God, if she broke it...]
Where's my bag?
[She's immediately trying to get out of the bed, already considering just ripping the damn IV out. She doesn't need to be here. She's fine. This is overkill.]
no subject
( he'll buy her another camera; it's the least of his worries right now. he pushes off the wall to come closer to her side. )
Your bag's in my truck, I think. Back at school. You really need it? I'll go back for it now.
( or he'll get someone to bring it for him. that feels like the better move, since he doesn't want to leave her here alone. )
no subject
Though she stops trying to fully get out of bed, she allows herself to just sit on the edge of it, dropping her hands into her lap. She studies the tape on her IV.]
No, you don't... You don't have to do that. As long as it's safe.
[She's having trouble looking him in the eye. That's quickly becoming obvious.]
I'm alright. This happens if I push too far with... Um. With that ability I shared with you. It's harder to do it when I'm drunk or high. [Or drugged, probably.]
no subject
for once in his life, he might've found someone more crazy than he is. )
Yeah, don't think the doctor's are gonna buy that one. ( she's fine, doc, she just time travelled a little too hard. )
...You wanna be left alone?
( is that why she won't look at him? he'd been drunk, and soft, and now she can't stand the sight of him. the only way to be respected is to be hard. he should've never asked her to stay, even if they were talking about dumb teleportation powers. )
no subject
No. I'm glad you came with me.
[And she is. That surprises her a little, she'd had a hard time trying to sort out that feeling, but... It does mean something to her that he's here. That he'd stayed. If she'd woken up alone, she really would be in tears right now. As it is, she only feels close to it.]
I just don't want to be here.
[A soft sigh and she brings her knees up onto the bed with her, wraps her arms around them. If her bag is in Nathan's car, then her phone must be as well. She'd be stranded here without him.]
Does anyone else know we're here?
no subject
she pulls her knees closer to herself, and nathan takes off his jacket to drape around her shoulders. )
Just... Vic. ( he figures that'll be upsetting to her, so he's quick to add: ) She's cool. She was worried about you. Thought you got roofied by some fucker at a party, or something.
( and she's been texting him ever since to check on her. they've entered this pocket of truce, a space where the claws retract. victoria might make fun of her on monday, but she's not making fun of her now. )
You're really okay? ...They'll let you go. The nurse says she wants to keep you overnight, but she'll let you go if I say.
no subject
Thanks...
[You're a complicated man, Nathan Prescott. Keeps me on my toes. Gawd, that had been no joke. Truly.
She does immediately tense at his nickname for Victoria. Of course. That makes sense. Since she'd been on her way. Does she tell Nathan that? About what she'd... fixed? Did his "I don't want to know, don't tell me" cover this as well?
Here she is, thinking about how he's going to feel about it. But her own feelings matter too.]
...As long as she's not posting a picture of me online cackling about how much of a "slutty hipster virgin" I am.
[She shouldn't say it, but it hurts too much and she has nowhere to put it. She doesn't have her journal to write it down in. Funny how much she's come to rely on that thing for helping her process her feelings.]
no subject
he lowers his voice. )
Vic doesn't know— I didn't tell her anything. ( and, belatedly: ) How can you be a virgin and a slut? Dumbass, oxymoron insult.
( vic can do better. it makes him think, though. she could only be this concerned because she feels guilty... but if she had something on max, he would know. she'd have told him. )
If she's got pictures of you, I'll get them.
no subject
She looks over at him, closer to her again. Thinks about what he's offering to do for her. Would he have been willing to defend her later? Had she rewound too soon? ...Guess she'll never know, now.
If he doesn't really believe her about her powers, then she can't really even explain any of this to him, can she?
She sighs heavily again and curls her arms tighter around her legs. This is all so fucked up.
Finally, she answers his earlier question:]
I shouldn't stay overnight. This visit will probably be expensive as it is, a night in the hospital really will be. And not exactly covered by my scholarship, so...
no subject
Don't worry about that. I got it.
( how much can a hospital visit cost, anyway? $50? $60?? )
Stay here. You'll feel better. I'll run back to school and get your stuff. ( he checks his jacket pockets only to remember he's not wearing his jacket. right. ) My phone's in there. The passcode's 0829, in case you need to call someone or something.
no subject
Oh, Nathan. The ambulance ride alone would probably break the bank for her family.Staying here is the absolute last thing she wants to do. There's just something about the doctors running tests on her. Makes her feel like a lab experiment, since she doesn't know if her new power will somehow... show up, on something. And then they really will want to run experiments on her. Either that or she'll learn she actually is, like, certifiably insane. Neither option is very appealing. Honestly, even if they didn't find anything with whatever tests they run first, couldn't that just make the doctors more determined to run different ones? How long would she be here being poked like a pincushion? Nope, no thanks!!
--But he's giving her access to his phone if she stays. He's even giving her the password. That would be helpful to the investigation, for trying to determine how better for her to help him. Unless he's so willing to hand it over because there's actually nothing noteworthy to be found on it? He does know she's nosy.
She has to decide. Is it worth the stress of staying in the hospital on the off-chance she'll be able to find something helpful on his phone? Or... she could call someone on his phone to come break her out of the hospital after she's through snooping. That could be an option.
Of course, it escapes her mind in this precise moment that he will have her journal, openly available to him, no passcode needed, if he's even a little bit as nosy as Max is.]
Okay. Thanks for all of this. And I'm sorry if I scared you. Do you need to call someone to come pick you up first though, if your truck is still at Blackwell?
[She fishes the phone out of the jacket pocket to hand over to him.]
no subject
( whatever he did for her to flee from his car in a blind panic. paying for her medical bills feel like an apology for that, in a weird way. )
I dunno, I guess I can catch an ambulance back. Not like it's far. They're probably on their way back to Blackwell to pump charcoal into some dumbass freshman, anyway.
( he's convinced that they'll agree to him hoping in the passenger seat solely on his father's merit, and he's right. never mind the tax payer dollars he'll be wasting by turning an ambulance into his personal taxi service. how much could a ride in those things cost, really? $15? $20???
he reaches into her (his?) coat pocket and pulls out his car keys. while he's close, he hesitates for a moment before swallowing his nerves and kissing her cheek. for some reason, his face burns more brightly than hers ever could as he pulls back. )
no subject
She drops the phone on the bed, then feels her face get a little hot as he leans in so close and sticks his hand in the pocket of the jacket. Then he kisses her cheek, and her heart skips again. Always keeping her on her toes, Nathan Prescott.
Without thinking twice about it, she gently takes his hand to keep him from leaving so she can press a kiss of her own to his very red cheek. (And god, how cute is that?)
It's not that she's forgotten the betrayal. That still hurts, like a splinter she can't work out. But Nathan has her feelings all mixed up. The very definition of hot and cold. It's probably toxic and unhealthy for her. It would be better if she just broke off whatever this thing is. But... she really doesn't want to.
Definitely making smart life choices here, Max Caulfield.]
I'll see you later... Have fun taking the ambulance back.
[It's a very gentle tease, said with a small smile, though she's not sure he'll pick up on it being one. So wild that he's treating the ambulance like a taxi service.
She drops his hand so he can leave.]
no subject
God, this is dorky...
( his cool guy party boy image can't handle being dorky. crushes and the idea of wanting to be around someone he likes, it makes him feel like a little kid again. )
Yeah, I'll let you know if we pick up anyone cool.
( like someone with a missing leg. for an encounter like that, nathan would definitely prefer to have his camera. he suddenly gets the panic and detachment max felt when she woke up without her polaroid.
and then he's off. he says something to a nurse, nods over to max's bed. knowing nathan, it's probably something to the tune of "if you hurt her, you're dead".
it's surprisingly easy to convince an emt to give him a lift back to school. he says his name, which has weight, but the emt says it was about time for a patrol lap around town anyway. so, sure, nathan can catch a ride.
his phone has a picture of cemetery as its background, a monochrome shot of some stranger being lowered into the earth. his gallery of photos is much more normal — pictures from various parties, snaps of the whiteboard during the science classes he couldn't be bothered to take notes in. aside from the piles of cocaine and pictures of his fellow drunken, underage classmates, he's managed to keep his photos unincriminating.
his most recent texts are from victoria, asking about max's condition. there's the one from jefferson that he didn't respond to, and some from his father telling him he'll be cut off soon if he doesn't get it together. his mother sends a message that's incoherent which he never responded to, and he's messaged warren about being a never having been laid when he was particularly bored one night. doctors message about upcoming appointments and med changes. there's receipt for an upcoming concert, a birthday present for vic.
drafts in his notes app range from average, drug-related to-do lists to long ramblings about his self loathing. there's a note about chloe that oscillates wildly between calling her a dumb punk bitch who had it coming and how it hurting her will haunt him for ever. )
no subject
And she snoops. Because of course she does. She's Max Caulfield.
The phone background, first off, has her tilting her head. Is this a shot he took? Is it someone he knows? Did he lose someone in his life recently? Or it could just be his attraction to dark subject matter. Maybe it's a complete stranger. She has no idea just from the one shot.
The gallery is very typical, nothing unusual there. Unless she counts the confirmation of his doing harder drugs than weed. But that's not super surprising either, considering rumors already abound about it.
She's not sure what to think about Victoria's concern. She knows she's not a complete monster. She was fair with her when Max comforted her after the paint incident. It just feels like rapport is not something you can build with people like Victoria, maybe not even Nathan. How do they even have friends at all when they're so willing to betray, throw one another under the bus for social standing and clout? She's not sure how that works. She's not sure she really wants to, either. Money is probably the answer, if she really thinks about it. Ugh.
The text with Mr. Jefferson is odd. A teacher telling a student to behave themselves the night of a party isn't totally out there, though she didn't think they were that close. "Stick to the script" though is... very strange. She wishes she had a way to document this to look at it more later, but without her phone or camera or journal...
Moving on, then. The text from Nathan's dad isn't surprising, especially given Nathan's feelings about his family. The Warren message results in frustrated sigh, though curiosity gets the better of her to check the timestamp on it, wondering if it had anything to do with her and how Nathan was always calling Warren her boyfriend. Was he jealous...?
Doctors messages. In general Max approves of psychiatry but not all doctors are automatically good doctors. And they can only help you so far as you're willing to be helped too, right? Anyway...
The notes app pulls at her heart strings.
These are red flags, Max, stop getting all... twitterpatted. Jesus.
She just wants to believe he can be helped. What, and you're gonna be the one to do it? How realistic even is that? ...Any less realistic than rewinding time? ...No snappy comeback to yourself for that? Cool.
She closes all the apps she opened, and instead brings up the phone app. She dials her home phone number to get a jump on her parents finding out about the hospital visit. The next several minutes is spent reassuring her mom she doesn't need to go home, among other things.
The good thing about that is the nurses don't seem keen to interrupt her while she's having a conversation, so... No (more) tests for now. Wonder if Nathan had anything to do with that.]
no subject
had this been a few weeks ago, he'd have delighted in digging through max's things to find something humiliating to embarrass her with. now, it just feels invasive. still, he only plans on checking on the camera, so he flips open her sachel and dumps things out on his passenger seat until the camera tumbles to halt against the seat cushion. he picks it up, inspects it. after a moment, he flips it open and looks around for something to take a picture of. all for the sake of being thorough, mind you. no one is dying in this parking lot, so nothing around catches his eye, but if max were here...
in the end, he takes a picture of the rearvier mirror and ends up flashbanging himself. god, analog is the fucking worst. he doesn't even bother to check the picture as it develops, just drops it into her bag along with everything else he'd shaken out — her phone, her sketching pencils, her journal.
...one page of a journal won't hurt.
when else is he going to have the opportunity to snoop through someone's journal? who keeps a diary these days, anyway? apart from himself, and that's doctor-mandated, anyway.
he flips to one of the more recent pages and reads under the glow of the dome light. )
I died at him flashbanging himself lmfao
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)