[ Chloe can't stop the laugh at her questions - both of them are apparently something she finds plenty of humor in. She goes to unwrap one of the peanut butter cups, popping it into her mouth and going to chew happily on it. ]
How the fuck are you gonna get me a present when you've gone all Marianne Dashwood on me? [ Casually dropping classical literature references is absolutely something the real punk rock kids do. ] Awfully hard to go out and have a good time when the people you'd party with are crazy, dying or dead, isn't it?
I've been celebrating on my ownsome. Lonesome. Whatever.
[She snorts. It bugs her that she even knows who Marianne Dashwood is. But of course Real-Max knows, so the Mirror knows too. Is Chloe implying that she should be more "sense" and less "sensibility" now that she's even sicker?
Does the Mirror even have a choice? It's gotten so bad that she kind wants to stay in bed.
Sorta. Maybe. Ugh.]
Look at you getting all "let's apply literature to real life situations blah blah". But I guess so. I wouldn't know what to get you anyway.
[ She'd been so focused on giving a witty response, that she only barely realizes how fast she's eating the cookie, and she didn't even have a chance to get out her objection before it was ... gone.
Uhh. ]
Dude. You know Max's body has like no tolerance, right? You were supposed to break that shit into quarters. [ She shakes her head with a laugh. ] Let's hope you don't puke it back up.
[ And focus on masturbation jokes until then. She shrugs, leaning back in her chair. ]
Well, it is the only partner who knows exactly what I like. What more could I ask for in a Valentine?
[ Chloe's not gonna miss this a second time, at last, and she goes to reach out to grab her wrist to try and stop her from continuing to to eat even more cookie. ]
An hour, maybe. You just gotta metabolize it. And I'm not gonna let you end up even sicker because you don't know how to pace yourself, moron.
[ She shoves a peanut butter cup into her hand. ]
Munch on this if you're so snacky.
[ And it all gets immediately followed up with a quick middle finger, even if lots of practice is... probably true. ] I don't need romance. It's overrated.
[She tries to pull her wrist out of Chloe's hand and... nothing. It's like fighting a kitten. There's hardly any force behind it.
She doesn't make a big deal about it, but she releases the cookie without further protest.]
A whole hour? Ugh.
[She trades for the peanut butter cup easily enough, though she's far more subdued as she nibbles at it. And she pauses to stick her tongue out at Chloe's middle finger.]
[ Happy to see her drop the cookie, she lets go of her wrist and folds her arm over her chest as she returns to slouching in the chair. ]
Ew, no. Guys are fun to mess around with, but it'd take one hell of a dude to talk me into actually dating one again. [ She wrinkles her nose at the thought. ] They go crazy way too easily.
[ A beat. ] Not like it matters. Like I told Max, I'm no good for dating right now.
One hell of a dude, huh? [She stares down at her snack as she nibbles on it. The peanut butter cups seem to be having a strange effect on her - an easing of a mild, constant discomfort. The pain of her sickness subsiding.
Or was that the cookie?
It's an odd sensation, and she's not sure what to make of it just yet.
She wrinkles her nose.]
Don't remind me. I have memories of all your big talks.
[At the Glass. And the morning after. The night when Chloe woke up from her nightmare. Many conversations.]
You may not realize it, but living in Max's head isn't exactly pleasant. Not with all the thinking she does.
[Overthinking and over-analyzing everything, especially her conversations with Chloe. Practically obsessing. Worrying about so many things. It drives the Mirror nuts.
[ She shrugs. ] Girls are less... terrifying. [ Which was saying something, because girls still felt pretty damn terrifying.
She shifts a little uncomfortably when she mentions having memories of their talks, looking at the ground. It's weird when Miramax and Max are so meshed together, so much the same person but so... different.
She can only imagine how hard it must be to hear Max's anxieties. It's hard enough living in her own head with how much she overthinks, she would be pretty sure any mirror version of herself would go crazy. ]
Yeah. Thinking too much has always been a bad habit of hers. You must get one hell of a headache.
[And now Chloe is looking at the ground. Miramax stares for a little while and then rolls her eyes, popping the rest of the blessed peanut butter cup in her mouth.]
Both of you, Jesus. Don't act all innocent.
[The sheer amount of overthinking in their friendship... Seriously.]
What are you even thinking about all the time? What thoughts won't fit through your mouth? People say I'm crazy, but...
I don't -- [ Sh cuts herself off, sighing, rubbing her forehead. She can't even finish that lie. ]
It's hard not to when things are so complicated, you know. I didn't used to overthink when we were kids. I just don't.. wanna fuck it up and make her leave again.
[ She doesn't even give her a look at the sarcasm, because really, she's... kinda right, no matter how harsh a reality it might have been to say.
She shrugs, hands picking at some string near the tears in her jeans. ]
Yeah. I am. [ She chewed her lip for a second as she thought. ] I've changed a lot since we were kids, Even if she doesn't bail on her own, this place - ... Obviously it can take her from me whenever it wants to. [ Case and point: MIrror Max being here instead of Max. ]
[ She pulls a face, knowing that that's definitely on point. A hand reaches up to rub the back of her neck a little awkwardly. ]
Yeah. It was a dick move to take that out on you, I know. But I guess if you've got all Max's memories, you know I tend to pull dick moves a lot.
[ She sighs, letting her head fall back to look up at the ceiling of the tent. ]
Yeah. I guess she had a whole lot of time to get to know me that I don't remember. Unless That Chloe was from a different timeline and way more put together than This Bitch. [ A gesture to herself for emphasis. She almost sounds amused rather than concerned, though. ] Is there such a thing as a more put together Chloe Price?
[She shrugs, showing off how much she doesn't care - a blatant lie.] In another time and place we would've gotten along, too. [She laughs very lightly.] And for the record, That Bitch isn't so bad. Put together or not.
[She shifts comfortably in her bed. She fancies that the cookie is starting to work a little.]
What would be worse, though? If you are the same Chloe, or if you're from a different timeline?
[ She goes to look at her again finally, offering her the slightest of smiles. ] Seems like we're getting along alright in this time and place. [ A beat. ] Do I keep calling you Mirror Max? Because that shit's kind of a mouthful.
[ She goes to take a bite of one of the cookies she brought her, because that's definitely not rude or anything. ]
I... dunno. I guess it depends on which one she likes better. [ She tried to say that with a joking tone, but she's sure it falls flat. ]
[A grin slowly spreads over her mouth.] After a rocky start. [Her hands play with her blanket, twisting it between her fingers.] You... actually think I'm a different person? You don't think I'm just Max gone mad? [She cuts off any answer Chloe might have, not willing to hear it, speaking faster like an excited kid.] It's Miramax. Like the... well, you know. I think it's kinda cute.
[She finishes that with a laugh.]
And for the record, she better like you more. Wonderland-Chloe barely ever gave me the time of day.
You seem pretty sure of it. So there’s no reason I shouldn’t believe you. [ There’s a second as her name sinks in, the pun more than clear, and she can’t stop herself from laughing. She covers her mouth to try and keep it quiet so that she doesn’t disturb other people who are trying to laugh, but fuck, it feels good to actually laugh. ]
I like it. And thanks. I dunno if Other Me had as much time to get over her hang ups with you, but I’m glad I’m at least better than her at something.
[The grin only gets wider as Chloe laughs.] Right? It just fits. [At some point she finds herself laughing, too. Maybe that cookie works fast after all...
But the laughter quickly fades as Chloe talks.]
I saw her once. Once. We played volleyball. I had to rewind because she didn't like me at first, and...
[...This feels strange.]
D-do you know, I think every time someone leaves Wonderland, their Mirror gets unmade? So... technically I'm already dead? [She looks dead on Chloe and there's a sadness in her expression, and she's starting to regret stuffing down that cookie so quickly.] Not even dead. Unmade. That's what the Real-Things called it. So I'm just an... echo of someone that wasn't even a someone. She was just... a thing. Something made and unmade.
[ Chloe's laughter dies rather abruptly when she starts talking about getting unmade. She watches her with much more sobriety than she's had since she walked into the tents, her forehead creased as she takes in each word, face falling.
Technically I'm already dead.
Those words hit her harder than they have any right to, the connection clear enough for her, the fact that Miramax understands the fear in having nothing to go back to. But unlike Chloe, she has no choice; no alternative to stay in Deerington forever, no ability to hold off the inevitable or escape to some other world like so many keep offering her.
She swallows roughly, reaching out quickly to grab onto her hand and squeeze it tightly in her own. ]
Hey. You're not - ... You're not a thing. You've got your own thoughts, right? Your own feelings? A personality that's... definitely not Max's.
[ She looks down at their hands, the way her pale and sickly skin looks against Chloe's. ]
You're your own person and that's just as real as anything else, no matter where you came from.
[Mirror-Max tightens her grip on Chloe's hand as hard as she can. It's still stupidly weak. And it's far more desperate than she'd care to admit.
She shrugs.]
Maybe. I dunno. [She shrugs again.] Maybe it doesn't matter. I just popped in and now I'm popping out, and who cares, right? I'm the... the five minute bathroom stop in the middle of a cool roadtrip. I'm a loading screen. A fucking commercial break. [She's blinking back tears.] I always thought I'd be more than that. I thought I could be, but...
[She wipes roughly at her eyes, turning her head away.]
Man, Price, what the hell did you put in those cookies?
[ Even though she's accepted Miramax as a different person, it's still Max she sees crying, still her best friend hurting in front of her, and she feels helpless to make it any better. What was she supposed to say to that? What could possibly make it easier to feel like you were going to just stop existing?
She can't even comfort herself over it. Let alone anyone else. ]
Told you not to eat a whole one. [ It's said with a weak amount of humor to it, an attempt at levity that she doesn't quite nail. ]
And I care. Okay? Even after all this shit, I'll care.
Yeah, you look like you really don’t give a shit, Miramax. [ It’s said with as much sarcasm as she can muster at the moment. Weaker than normal, but clear she doesn’t buy it for a second. ]
No one should have to face this kind of shit. It’s cruel that you get these small glimpses of life outside of… wherever you came from and then it just gets ripped away from you like that. You might be a little rough around the edges, but I’d be a fucking hypocrite if I said that meant you deserved to die. I -
[ A breath. ]
I care because even if you’re some reflection of Max’s personality or a fragment of her stupidly broken mind or whatever else, you’re still a Max, your own Max, and that means we’re friends and you’re stuck with it. I care because if you weren’t sick as fuck, I’d take you up on those offers to go party and tear up the town, because it sounds like fun, and if things had been different, I probably would have thought you were cool as shit from the start without all the bullshit drama in between.
[ She reaches out, scooting closer to the bed so she can cup Max’s cheek in her hand carefully. ]
I care because … you’re a person. And people are worth caring about.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2019-02-19 05:01 pm (UTC)How the fuck are you gonna get me a present when you've gone all Marianne Dashwood on me? [ Casually dropping classical literature references is absolutely something the real punk rock kids do. ] Awfully hard to go out and have a good time when the people you'd party with are crazy, dying or dead, isn't it?
I've been celebrating on my ownsome. Lonesome. Whatever.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-20 01:28 am (UTC)Does the Mirror even have a choice? It's gotten so bad that she kind wants to stay in bed.
Sorta. Maybe. Ugh.]
Look at you getting all "let's apply literature to real life situations blah blah". But I guess so. I wouldn't know what to get you anyway.
[And with that she devours the cookie.
It only takes a moment, and then she's talking through a full mouth.]
Ha, ownsome. Got a date with your hand, huh?
no subject
Date: 2019-02-22 11:21 pm (UTC)Uhh. ]
Dude. You know Max's body has like no tolerance, right? You were supposed to break that shit into quarters. [ She shakes her head with a laugh. ] Let's hope you don't puke it back up.
[ And focus on masturbation jokes until then. She shrugs, leaning back in her chair. ]
Well, it is the only partner who knows exactly what I like. What more could I ask for in a Valentine?
no subject
Date: 2019-02-22 11:49 pm (UTC)[And yet she starts on a second cookie. While she doesn't stuff it into her mouth whole, she is certainly not breaking it into quarters.
She smiles at Chloe before she takes a bite. "Max's body," she said. Not "you." It's nice to hear the distinction. Almost sweet.]
How long before this kicks in, anyway? [A short time, she hopes. Even shorter if she eats a crapton at once.]
Okay, I appreciate your hand being an expert. Looots of practice. [She giggles.] But there's just no romance or surprise.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-24 02:00 am (UTC)An hour, maybe. You just gotta metabolize it. And I'm not gonna let you end up even sicker because you don't know how to pace yourself, moron.
[ She shoves a peanut butter cup into her hand. ]
Munch on this if you're so snacky.
[ And it all gets immediately followed up with a quick middle finger, even if lots of practice is... probably true. ] I don't need romance. It's overrated.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-24 06:02 am (UTC)She doesn't make a big deal about it, but she releases the cookie without further protest.]
A whole hour? Ugh.
[She trades for the peanut butter cup easily enough, though she's far more subdued as she nibbles at it. And she pauses to stick her tongue out at Chloe's middle finger.]
Yeah? Not secretly hoping for your Kristoff?
no subject
Date: 2019-02-24 06:16 am (UTC)Ew, no. Guys are fun to mess around with, but it'd take one hell of a dude to talk me into actually dating one again. [ She wrinkles her nose at the thought. ] They go crazy way too easily.
[ A beat. ] Not like it matters. Like I told Max, I'm no good for dating right now.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-26 04:31 pm (UTC)Or was that the cookie?
It's an odd sensation, and she's not sure what to make of it just yet.
She wrinkles her nose.]
Don't remind me. I have memories of all your big talks.
[At the Glass. And the morning after. The night when Chloe woke up from her nightmare. Many conversations.]
You may not realize it, but living in Max's head isn't exactly pleasant. Not with all the thinking she does.
[Overthinking and over-analyzing everything, especially her conversations with Chloe. Practically obsessing. Worrying about so many things. It drives the Mirror nuts.
Ha. Like she isn't already.]
no subject
Date: 2019-02-28 06:51 am (UTC)She shifts a little uncomfortably when she mentions having memories of their talks, looking at the ground. It's weird when Miramax and Max are so meshed together, so much the same person but so... different.
She can only imagine how hard it must be to hear Max's anxieties. It's hard enough living in her own head with how much she overthinks, she would be pretty sure any mirror version of herself would go crazy. ]
Yeah. Thinking too much has always been a bad habit of hers. You must get one hell of a headache.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-01 01:00 am (UTC)Both of you, Jesus. Don't act all innocent.
[The sheer amount of overthinking in their friendship... Seriously.]
What are you even thinking about all the time? What thoughts won't fit through your mouth? People say I'm crazy, but...
[She shakes her head.]
no subject
Date: 2019-03-05 06:41 am (UTC)It's hard not to when things are so complicated, you know. I didn't used to overthink when we were kids. I just don't.. wanna fuck it up and make her leave again.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-06 01:57 pm (UTC)[Yeah, it's dripping with sarcasm. Apparently, Mirror-Max likes to bite the hand that feeds her. Even when it's feeding her peanut butter cups.
She seems to come to that realization. She hisses, half in frustration, half in embarrassment.]
...I didn't actually mean it that badly. [A pause.] But I kinda did, a little. You're that scared of her leaving, huh?
no subject
Date: 2019-03-06 06:05 pm (UTC)She shrugs, hands picking at some string near the tears in her jeans. ]
Yeah. I am. [ She chewed her lip for a second as she thought. ] I've changed a lot since we were kids, Even if she doesn't bail on her own, this place - ... Obviously it can take her from me whenever it wants to. [ Case and point: MIrror Max being here instead of Max. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-03-07 11:41 am (UTC)...I figured that's why you're mad at me all the time.
[Her voice has certainly lost its sharp edge.]
It's not because you don't like me. It's because you feel like Max left.
[She hopes Chloe doesn't look up to notice her forlorn expression, which she just can't seem to hide.]
She likes you, y'know. The blue-haired, punk rebel you.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-08 01:09 am (UTC)Yeah. It was a dick move to take that out on you, I know. But I guess if you've got all Max's memories, you know I tend to pull dick moves a lot.
[ She sighs, letting her head fall back to look up at the ceiling of the tent. ]
Yeah. I guess she had a whole lot of time to get to know me that I don't remember. Unless That Chloe was from a different timeline and way more put together than This Bitch. [ A gesture to herself for emphasis. She almost sounds amused rather than concerned, though. ] Is there such a thing as a more put together Chloe Price?
no subject
Date: 2019-03-08 04:06 pm (UTC)[She shifts comfortably in her bed. She fancies that the cookie is starting to work a little.]
What would be worse, though? If you are the same Chloe, or if you're from a different timeline?
no subject
Date: 2019-03-09 06:17 am (UTC)[ She goes to take a bite of one of the cookies she brought her, because that's definitely not rude or anything. ]
I... dunno. I guess it depends on which one she likes better. [ She tried to say that with a joking tone, but she's sure it falls flat. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-03-10 02:22 am (UTC)[She finishes that with a laugh.]
And for the record, she better like you more. Wonderland-Chloe barely ever gave me the time of day.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-12 03:51 am (UTC)I like it. And thanks. I dunno if Other Me had as much time to get over her hang ups with you, but I’m glad I’m at least better than her at something.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-12 04:16 am (UTC)But the laughter quickly fades as Chloe talks.]
I saw her once. Once. We played volleyball. I had to rewind because she didn't like me at first, and...
[...This feels strange.]
D-do you know, I think every time someone leaves Wonderland, their Mirror gets unmade? So... technically I'm already dead? [She looks dead on Chloe and there's a sadness in her expression, and she's starting to regret stuffing down that cookie so quickly.] Not even dead. Unmade. That's what the Real-Things called it. So I'm just an... echo of someone that wasn't even a someone. She was just... a thing. Something made and unmade.
[She gulps heavily.]
no subject
Date: 2019-03-13 03:32 am (UTC)Technically I'm already dead.
Those words hit her harder than they have any right to, the connection clear enough for her, the fact that Miramax understands the fear in having nothing to go back to. But unlike Chloe, she has no choice; no alternative to stay in Deerington forever, no ability to hold off the inevitable or escape to some other world like so many keep offering her.
She swallows roughly, reaching out quickly to grab onto her hand and squeeze it tightly in her own. ]
Hey. You're not - ... You're not a thing. You've got your own thoughts, right? Your own feelings? A personality that's... definitely not Max's.
[ She looks down at their hands, the way her pale and sickly skin looks against Chloe's. ]
You're your own person and that's just as real as anything else, no matter where you came from.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-13 05:02 pm (UTC)She shrugs.]
Maybe. I dunno. [She shrugs again.] Maybe it doesn't matter. I just popped in and now I'm popping out, and who cares, right? I'm the... the five minute bathroom stop in the middle of a cool roadtrip. I'm a loading screen. A fucking commercial break. [She's blinking back tears.] I always thought I'd be more than that. I thought I could be, but...
[She wipes roughly at her eyes, turning her head away.]
Man, Price, what the hell did you put in those cookies?
[Sure. Blame the cookies.]
no subject
Date: 2019-03-15 03:55 am (UTC)She can't even comfort herself over it. Let alone anyone else. ]
Told you not to eat a whole one. [ It's said with a weak amount of humor to it, an attempt at levity that she doesn't quite nail. ]
And I care. Okay? Even after all this shit, I'll care.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-16 01:50 am (UTC)[But her tone isn't accusatory. On the contrary, she sounds very much like she's looking for a reason to believe it.]
I don't even care.
[She says that with tears in her eyes. With a waver in her voice. With a soft, but desperate grip on Chloe's hand.
She's lying.]
no subject
Date: 2019-03-16 09:51 pm (UTC)No one should have to face this kind of shit. It’s cruel that you get these small glimpses of life outside of… wherever you came from and then it just gets ripped away from you like that. You might be a little rough around the edges, but I’d be a fucking hypocrite if I said that meant you deserved to die. I -
[ A breath. ]
I care because even if you’re some reflection of Max’s personality or a fragment of her stupidly broken mind or whatever else, you’re still a Max, your own Max, and that means we’re friends and you’re stuck with it. I care because if you weren’t sick as fuck, I’d take you up on those offers to go party and tear up the town, because it sounds like fun, and if things had been different, I probably would have thought you were cool as shit from the start without all the bullshit drama in between.
[ She reaches out, scooting closer to the bed so she can cup Max’s cheek in her hand carefully. ]
I care because … you’re a person. And people are worth caring about.
(no subject)
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