thelongcon: (Default)
Walker ([personal profile] thelongcon) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2016-01-02 05:57 pm
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Quote prompt meme

the quote prompt meme

  • comment with your character.
  • others will leave a quote/lyric/poem. try a sea of quotes or tumblr if you need help searching for a quote.
  • reply to them with a setting based on the quote/lyric/poem.
  •  [personal profile] sockies (Source)
dramaquing: (Default)

Max Caulfield | Life is Strange

[personal profile] dramaquing 2016-01-03 01:20 am (UTC)(link)
meatbrain: (Default)

[personal profile] meatbrain 2016-01-03 11:06 am (UTC)(link)
If you can't wake up from the nightmare,
                  maybe you're not asleep.
dramaquing: (american girl)

[personal profile] dramaquing 2016-01-03 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[Being awake is not a comfort.
When Max opens her eyes, the relief is short lived, it wasn't just a dream, but a memory that she relives every night. She takes a deep breath trying to chase it away, but she only feels heavier. Sleep won't come again today.

She turns to check the time but she already knows what time it is: early, as always, she doesn't really need an alarm anymore.

She gets off her bed, and starts preparing for the day. The dorm is quiet but she's not the only one around, a couple of girls preparing for jogging, another who probably never went to bed, she doesn't know any of them.

She heads outside, on campus, walking aimlessly trying to clear her head. She's tired but there's no use in going back to bed. She can still see the tornado bringing destruction all around her, and the blue hair of friend, walking away to give her space. A moment that never really even happened.]

I need coffee... [She murmurs, hoping the small task might bring her a litle distraction, she shop shouldn't be that far away.]

(ooc. hope this is ok, I never tried this kind of meme. :) I thought I'd place Max in present day, during college. This should be her sophomore year.)

meatbrain: (pic#9667403)

[personal profile] meatbrain 2016-01-03 03:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[ mike doesn't sleep much anymore — or at all, really. he has meds to help him and a therapist he sees thrice weekly to talk about the shit that went down on blackwood mountain, but nothing helps. his parents say he isn't trying hard enough. that he needs to stop all this bullshit about monsters and wendigos and come to grips with the reality of what he experienced. but the reality is there were monsters on the mountain. big scary skeletal things with a taste for human flesh. he knows it and sam knows it, too. but considering they were the only two to make it out alive and the state they came back in, no one believes a word they say when they talk about what went down. the fucking horror of it all. ]

[ it's guilt mostly, mike thinks, that keeps him awake. not being fast enough to save jess from the monster—hannah in the mines. she deserved better. and if he'd just been a little faster, fought harder, didn't play her attempted rescue so safe … ]

[ with a groggy groan, mike shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as he wills the nightmarish memories away. he can't think about that now, though. or ever. if he does he'll drown in the trauma of it all. the weight of the horrible fucking choices he made and the no good, very bad shit that came from them. after all, jess wasn't his only mistake. hell, the only thing he did right was at the very end when hope was all but lost, assisting sam — who had become the final girl of the horror movie they'd found themselves in — to start a wendigo barbecue, burning all the freaky flesh hungry fucks alive, though even that was something a fail in that the cannibalistic spirits were set free, waiting to inhabit the next poor soul that triggered the mountain's curse. ]

[ still dressed from not having slept, mike knuckles a dark-rimmed eye, his exhaustion plain on his face and in his every movement as he slowly makes his way out of the dorm for a breath of fresh air and shit ton of coffee from the local shop on campus. it's bad idea, of course. okay, scratch that. it's a horrible idea that will do more harm than good, but whatever. and so off he goes, hair messy and hands in his pockets, shambling along like a zombie as he follows the campus path and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans, ignoring the few "you okay, dude?" comments he gets from a few passers-by. partygoers, no doubt. teens that look every inch the guy he used to be. ]
dramaquing: (light)

[personal profile] dramaquing 2016-01-03 05:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[Max can smell the coffee before she can spot the sign. As she walks into the shop she closes her eyes and inhales deeply. She loves the smell of coffee, it reminds her of home: her parents' house, Chloe's, the Two Whales... She sighs, everything seems to bring her back to Arcadia Bay. And her friend. For a moment, she wonders if Joyce at work and how she and David are doing, it's been two years. She should contact them. Last time she did it was for Chloe's birthday, months ago.

There aren't many people in line, some early-birds like herself (although, she doesn't anything like a bird lately) and a couple of party-goers getting breakfast before crashing in bed and avoid classes. As she turns to leave, she almost bumps into somebody, incredibly she stops herself before risking pouring the freshly made coffee all over themselves.]

Oh, sorry! [She lifts her head.] ...Mike, right? Hi.

[She recognizes him from a couple of classes, they never really talked but ever since she almost pissed off Juliet back at Blackwell, she makes a point of trying to remind names as much as she can.

He looks like she does, maybe a little worse. She's not an expert but makeup does wonders for her baggy eyes.]
meatbrain: (pic#9667407)

[personal profile] meatbrain 2016-01-03 06:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the closer he gets to the coffee shop — the lava java — the more the reasonable part of him tells him to turn back. he'll have to sleep eventually. this is, after all, his sophomore year and sophomores need sleep more than most. he could call up sam like he usually does. she wouldn't mind. but lately he's been doing that a little too much and it isn't fair. only problem is if he stops texting her and giving her regular pokes on her partially dead facebook page, he'll have no one. it's a queer feeling to be sure, mike munroe, friendless and alone. but that's what happens when you come back from a goddamn horror show suffering from ptsd and a whole bunch of other shit people don't have time for. ]

[ and why should they? ]

[ before, he wouldn't have cared. was too busy with his own life being mr. popular and class president, a real all american douche stereotype, the envy of every guy and the desire of every girl. dickish, yes, but that's just the way things were way back when. not that way back when was all that long ago. something that makes college life all the harder given how he'd give anything to go back. to get a rewind and save everyone, josh included. the opportunity to turn back time and be the hero he tried (but ultimately failed) to be. alas, unfortunately, mike has no such ability, and so he here he is. stuck on an endless loop, trying his damned hardest to start over but unable to forget or let go of the not-so distant past. in short: life fucking sucks. ]

[ reaching the shopfront, mike slaps a pale palm to the door, his missing fingers momentarily forgotten, and pushes his way in. then it's a quick trip the counter and a brief exchange with the cute barista before going on his way — wherever the hell that is. as it turns out, "his way" turns out to almost be a trip to the floor, drenched in two cups scolding hot coffee. however, luckily, he manages to jump out of the way before that happens, his non-coffee holding arm flying out to help steady himself in a somewhat comical manner. ]

Real smooth, Mikey Boy.

[ he mutters at himself before meeting the eyes of max caulfield. his lips twist into a smile that's a little dorky, a little apologetic, and a lot friendly to make up for his part in not watching where he was going. his lack of alertness no doubt a side effect of lack of sleep. ]

Heyyy. [ he points forwards then backwards then rubs at the back of his head, embarrassed. ] Sorry. I, uh … I guess I wasn't watching where I was going. Totally my bad. I didn't make you spill any, did I? [ he asks, tipping his chin toward her coffee. ]
Edited 2016-01-03 18:45 (UTC)
dramaquing: (nose scratching)

[personal profile] dramaquing 2016-01-03 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[Incredibly, Max still makes an effort to keep in touch with her friends from Blackwell, and not only the ones that goes to this school too (thanks good art department). Her experience, as heartbreaking as it was, taught her to keep the people you care about close.

Still, it's hard to forget. Hard to not second guess herself. Hard to keep herself from wondering what could be now of Chloe, had she made a different decision.

Some days are fine, some like this morning, aren't. She's glad for the distraction.]

Just a few drops from the opening on the lid. [She raises her cup to show that no arm was done.] It's okay, I' basically sleep-walking.

[And now she should just say goodbye and walk away, but despite everything that has happened, Max is still her little nosy self. And Mike looks like he has a story to tell. She hasn't realized who, but he reminds her of somebody.]

Tough night?
meatbrain: (pic#9541698)

[personal profile] meatbrain 2016-01-03 09:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[ like the goofball he is, mike mimes his relief with a hand to his brow and a flick of his wrist, wiping away the imaginary sweat before breaking into his trademark grin — wide, toothy, and charming. oh, he plays the part of his old self well alright, blending in with ease despite the permanent rings beneath his eyes and the lack of fingers on his left hand, pretending everything is hunky dory and fine, of course, being the easiest method of coping. a way of keeping the stares to a minimum. but mostly it's to make himself feel less broken. like, with time, he might just be able to go back to being the person he was before witnessing the murders of his friends at the hands of creatures that should not exist. ]

I know that feeling.

[ he replies, putting his lips to his coffee cup and taking a sip. it isn't great coffee but it does the trick. he drinks a little more, unbothered by the heat, the burn as it slides down his throat, if only because it reminds him that he's alive. dumb, yes, but whatever works, right? ]

Always. [ his shoulders raise in a shrugging motion. ] What about you?
dramaquing: (light)

[personal profile] dramaquing 2016-01-03 10:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[Max smiles a little at his exaggerated gestures, glancing again at his partly fingerless hand. She wonders what's the story behind that, and if people bother him about it or rather just pretend not to see.

She doesn't drink yet, enjoying the warm of the coffee on her figerstips.

And hey Mike, drinking hot coffee is surely an healthier method than drugs.]

Sometimes. [She shrugs too, realizing a second too late he just did the same.] At least, I'm rarely late for class.
meatbrain: (pic#9667392)

[personal profile] meatbrain 2016-01-04 03:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he slaps a hand over his chest. ]

Ouch, Caulfield. [ her words sounds like a dig, but he mike knows that they aren't. not that it matters. classes, college, school — they used to be important to him, even if he'd never own up to it. guy has — correction: had — an image to uphold. but now they mean little and less every day, which is kind of problem considering if he keeps ditching he'll never graduate and be able to work toward the future he wants for himself. whatever said future is. once, it was a good job, a hot wife, a couple of kids, and white picket fence, the all american dream, but now … ] Way to kick a guy when he's down.

[ the words sound serious, but his playful expression makes clear that they're not. that he's only messing with her in that dumb way he has. he jerks a thumb toward one of the numerous empty tables. ]

I'm gonna sit for a bit. You feel like joining? Or is there some place else you have to be?
dramaquing: (relax)

[personal profile] dramaquing 2016-01-04 09:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[Max likes his playfulness, she was always drawn by the exuberant types, despite her more quiet personality. Or maybe, it exactly because of that.]

Looks like somebody has a dirty conscience. [She replies, playing along.] I swear I wasn't talking about you or anybody in particular.

Although, I admit I'm used to morning people. Everybody at my school was always up so early... So weird. [Honestly, everybody was up and dressed at 7.30 there. If it weren't for all the shit that was happening back then, she would slept until the very last minute.]

[She doesn't need to check her watch, she knows she has enough time to kill time before her first class, and why not spending it with Mike? He seems like a nice guy.]

No, not for a while. Lead the way.
meatbrain: (pic#)

[personal profile] meatbrain 2016-01-05 01:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ at "lead the way" mike smiles and sketches a bow. ]

As my lady commands.

[ dorky. so dorky. but beneath his tropey jerk joke exterior, the perception people have of him that comes from his looks and the attitude he sometimes has, that's exactly what mike is: an adorkable dork who doesn't take life too seriously. or rather, didn't until his last visit to blackwood mountain. for the briefest of moments, however, for once, mike finds himself in the moment and not trailing back to the past, his normal self as he leads max to his choosen table with a stupidly wide grin at his own corniness. ]

[ he slides into the booth, holding the in both hands, partly for warmth and partly to avoid any clumsy mishaps occurring as he parks himself up by the window, putting himself on a bit of an angle as he waits for max to join him. ]
dramaquing: (coffee)

[personal profile] dramaquing 2016-01-05 04:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[Max snorts as he bows to her.

She doesn't think Mike is a jerk, or at least that he acts like one. Maybe she just hasn't paid enough attention to him on his better days, or it's more likely that she's just become less critical over the years.

So she follows him to to the table, sliding into the booth in front of him. She finally sips a little of her coffee, holding it with both her hands as she puts it down, enjoying the warmth.]

I miss coffee from home, it didn't have as much variety [No elaborate lattes of additional flavors at Arcadia Bay.] but this doesn't taste quite as good.

Are you feeling better? [She asks, nodding to the cup.]