Disclaimer: Anything familiar to you, I don't own. This is a work of fanfiction for personal amusement, fulfillment and a bit of self-therapy. I make nothing from any of it.
Chapter Fifty: Anemoi
February 10th, 2012, 5:41 PM
If you had asked Chloe what her biggest concern had been when she first began to birth ideas for her tabletop campaign, she would have responded that it was the thought that at some point, one of them would stop having fun with it. Chloe had not imagined that one day, looking down at her notes, she would be the one dreading the start of the session. The worst part was, despite the fact that the entire party was gathered at the table around them, Chloe could not seem to hide her feelings. She felt stretched thin and uncomfortable with just about everything. Even as she sifted through her notes for some fact she thought she might need for the session, she could not deny that she would much rather veg in front of a television until she fell asleep.
Max and Rachel had noticed her sluggish movement and her inability to really feel excited about or focus on anything first thing in the morning when she had joined the usual cast of the breakfast table. Steph, for her part, had noticed on the way to school. Chloe knew damn well that each of them had been on the verge of calling off the game just so she would relax, all day. She also wasn't the the only one showing signs of not having the best day in the world. As the group sat around the kitchen table with snacks and drinks, Max was probably as quiet as she was. Even Rachel and Brooke, who seemed to be keeping the mood up mostly by themselves were starting to calm down and get more and more quiet as the time for the game approached.
Brooke, for her part, shot a concerned look at Chloe that made her immediately lower her eyes back down to her notes. Even Brooke knew damn well that something was wrong. Chloe lowered her DM screen again, letting it rest overtop her notes. I can't do it justice tonight. It felt, she reflected as she considered what to do or say and how vehement the apology on the tip of her tongue ought to be, like a part of her brain was just out of sync with the rest of the world. Max and Steph shared grimaces over their folded hands. Chloe did not miss that at all.
"I'm sorry," Chloe started, and she hoped that they could tell she very much meant it. "I hate letting everyone down, especially this late, but I do not think I'm going to pull it together enough to DM a session tonight. I promise that in the future I'll say something sooner." Chloe would never have said it out loud but she blamed this, in part, on helping with the preparations for tomorrow's Vortex Club party. When one was already out of energy, hauling chairs and tables and boxes of various equipment, climbing ladders and hanging streamers and banners just tended to result in being pretty beat. Looking each face over in turn for signs of disappointment, so she knew who to apologize to later, Chloe saw Max's guilt on her face. "Stop that," she told Max, a little more tersely than intended. "I offered to help because I wanted to." Judging by the way Max immediately looked away and pretended to gather up her dice and character sheet sheepishly, Chloe figured she hit the nail on the head.
"Look, I think you've kinda gotta take care of yourself before tabletop is a thing," Brooke told Chloe as she pushed her glasses back up along the bridge of her nose. This got a sort of universal agreement from the table but did not quiet the voice in the back of her head that said she had waited far too long to cancel, at the very least. Steph and Rachel's concern, at least, noticeably grew at this. Max was trying to smile reassuringly at her. Whatever was going on that was affecting Max, Chloe wished she could get to the bottom of it.
"Besides, this means only one thing," Rachel declared.
"What's that?"
"Movie night," Steph called. Chloe relaxed a little at this and began to fold the DM screen and refill her binder with her notes. Getting everything back in roughly the same order might not have been a priority to some people but to Chloe it meant she always knew where to look for notes on a certain phenomenon, city or NPC of note. Sure, she winged more of it than she probably ought to, but whenever an NPC or a city became truly important they needed, at least, a name. While she did that the others cleaned up their own piles of papers and dice which were, to the last, much smaller than Chloe's own. Chloe was the last one to finish organizing her stuff but when she looked up, Max was still at the far end of the table, hands folded as if waiting for her, even if the others had retrieved the snacks and drinks and made for the living room. Chloe couldn't hear what they were talking about in any detail but there was at least some chatter going on.
"Hey," Chloe greeted when Max raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you okay?" For a moment, Max's lips pursed and then she clicked her tongue and pulled a face as if the question was a bit of a pain in her ass. Chloe understood, but let Max answer anyway.
"It's complicated?" Max told her. "I'm feeling conflicted. About our plan. About Blackwell. About everything." There was a sort of trepidation in her words. Max watched with wide eyes, as if the admission that maybe their plan to catch Nathan in the act was maybe not the best might upset Chloe, even though she and Rachel had both expressed the same concerns at least twice that day. It frustrated each of them to no end that they weren't sure about what they were doing. It's like having no plan at all. "I don't know."
"Well, I do. I get it, completely." Leaving her organized gaming gear in spot, Chloe rose from the table. "I'm gonna go let Pompidou in." It did not seem that Max especially wanted the two of them to be alone at the moment, more that she had been waiting patiently for Chloe to join the rest of the group. Chloe appreciated that, even if a small voice in the back of her head whispered that there was a big, relatively new pillow waiting upstairs on a soft bed. Resist, Chloe counseled herself as Max crossed the room.
The brunette reached out, her hand closing lightly just above Chloe's left wrist, in a way that no one but she or Rachel could have done without causing Chloe serious bad vibes. The ghost of the damage David did to her wrist stayed with Chloe, in her mind each time someone touched her anywhere remotely near it. She had never given voice to this intrusive memory, but suspected that it was obvious to just about everyone around her. This time, Max did not look for it though. She simply leaned close and rested her head against Chloe's shoulder, her own left arm coming up to encircle the punk's back. It was brief, it was quiet and it was promise, Chloe hoped, of things to come. When Max finally let go of her, Chloe felt no more awake or pleased with the state she was in, but at least she understood that Max was trying to reach out to her from across the gulf of their mutual frustrations.
Chloe found herself on one end of the comfy, dark brown couch shortly thereafter, with the same brunette up under her arm. She smiled, despite herself as the group around them tried and failed to decide on a film. It mostly came down to the sheer amount of options and the lack of any one strong opinion. No one really knew what they wanted to watch. After several seconds, Chloe considered suggesting one of the various pirated films Steph kept physically in the house. This would be an excellent chance to bring Brooke to the dark side, Chloe thought. Then again, she had a feeling that the photographer looking up at her suspiciously from where she sat pressed against Chloe's side would put up a fight. Okay, so, meet somewhere in the middle.
"What about Firefly?" she suggested. For a moment the admittedly not-so-lively discussion quieted even further and eventually, Chloe got the feeling that perhaps the wind had been taken out of everyone's sails when the game was canceled. She tried not to let her guilt show on her face, but Chloe once more seriously considered going to bed. She had been hoping to receive a phone call but, theoretically if it was going to come it probably would have already.
"Never seen it," Brooke admitted. That seemed to be all that Steph needed as a signal to begin loading up Netflix. Chloe, for her part, replied with a mock affronted look. "What?"
"Just you wait," she counseled.
Firefly was enjoyable. With elements of comedy and gritty sci-fi, as well as a less-than-subtle sprinkling of themes reminiscent of old westerns and nods to American history, it theoretically had something for everyone and at least one thing that someone would probably consider to be not ideal. What the doctor really ordered, though, was the conversation that spread throughout the group. It quickly became clear that this was not going to be a proper veg session, but that was alright: she and Steph had plenty of those.
Chloe decided that the nerves making her stomach do flips were beginning to get distracting, so she jumped into the conversation and decided to direct it toward Brooke a little. It kept her mind off of the (hopefully) impending phone call. Given Brooke's aptitude in physics, Chloe was curious exactly what Brooke wanted to do for a career, if anything. She quickly ascertained that while Brooke wasn't entirely certain what she specifically wanted to do, she wanted to go into engineering.
"I just know I want it to be something that really helps people, though," Brooke added when prompted for more specifics. "I want to 'Make A Difference' ™." While humorously phrased, Chloe respected her for that kind of a lofty goal, even if Brooke wasn't entirely sure how to go about it. I'd just like to figure out how to survive without losing my fucking mind until I'm so old I've lost it anyway. That seemed like a completely laudable goal to Chloe, too. Though, the whole 'not losing my mind' part would probably require ease of access to and contact with Max and Rachel. "I mean, I'm studying all of this at Blackwell. I really should figure out what to do with it."
"So," Rachel started, and though her face changed not a bit Chloe imagined the girl squinting as she leaned forward. "Do you go to many of the Vortex Club parties?" It was a shift in subject but Chloe immediately got the feeling she might know exactly where Rachel was going with this. Brooke's response was to shake her head.
"I'm not the biggest fan of the scene. Too many people acting like jackasses. It was fun to sneak off to the science lab, though. Might have to do that." Then, as if realizing that she was sitting in a room with a pair of Vortex Club members, Brooke backpedaled. "Don't get me wrong, the party is nice now and again and it's cool you two are involved." Max snorted, marking the first time that she had so much as made a sound in several minutes.
"Calm down," Max advised. "It's not really my scene either."
"Enough about me," Brooke changed the subject. "What about you guys? What do you want to do after school?" At this, an odd silence fell over the room. Rachel and Max stayed notably silent and would not look at anyone else. It hit Chloe that there might be a discussion or two about the future to be had with her girls. Then again, Chloe wasn't entirely sure, herself.
"I kind of want to work in animation," Steph chimed in. The brief tension in the air was gone at that. "But I'd also love to do a comic some time. I'm kind of planning one. I just haven't let anyone see anything yet." Chloe opened her mouth to admonish Steph for keeping this last detail to herself. "I'm not going to let anyone see it yet, either," Steph said. Though she did not address this to anyone in particular, her eyes immediately met Chloe's. It did not need to be said that attempts to badger her into exposing her ideas would be met with resistance and, if necessary, vengeance. Seeing that Rachel and Max were suddenly intently focused on Hoban Washburne trying to pilot the Serenity, Brooke looked next at Chloe. Chloe's response was to look around her once or twice, frown and then answer anyway.
"I'm not sure, but right now I'm waiting for a call back later about a potential interview." It wasn't that she was expecting a call from the boss, either, but an employee she had asked to put a good word in for her. The brake shop in town was short handed, according to Skip, but he was dubious about his boss hiring a high school student, especially considering she would only be able to work a day a week while school was in. Still, even a full eight hours one day a week was more money than she was making at the moment. It was enough to begin saving up, even if the amount seemed measley, and when summer came- well, suffice it to say Chloe hoped she got the position. "Actually, not later, so much as an hour ago, now?" Steph made a sympathetic noise in the back of her throat. "To be honest, I just want to be with Rachel and Max." This time it was Brooke's turn to make a noise in the back of her throat: a faux gag.
"Oh come on," Chloe admonished. "Don't try to tell me there's not someone you're into." Chloe knew better. She was in the same physics class with Brooke and knew damn well exactly who Brooke liked to make googly-eyes at whenever he wasn't looking. Unfortunately for her, the brunet was, at best, oblivious. Warren's efforts to get Taylor to notice him without actually coming out and saying anything were among the most uncomfortable things Chloe had ever had to watch. In his worst moments, he reminded her of Eliot with discomforting accuracy. I mean, at least I've never fucked up and hooked up with Warren. That's one difference. At beast, he had problems with only falling for people who were both vulnerable and unavoidable. Chloe did not forget Warren's interest in Max early on and how quickly it changed when she began to open up to the school as a whole.
"There is," Brooke admitted after several seconds. "But he's pretty oblivious. It's kind of annoying because he's obviously really smart, but he can be so stupid about some things." For one quick beat, Chloe and Max's eyes met. She could see in the photographer's gaze that they were having the same thoughts. Quietly, carefully, Max formed a warning.
"Brooke, I really think you should be careful about Warren."
"Uh, what?" the bespectacled girl asked. Judging by the reddening of her cheeks, she seemed to think she had been sly about her interests. Oh, you poor fucking thing, Chloe wanted to crow. "I don't know what you're-"
"Yeah you do," Max interrupted, rolling her eyes. I guess feelings make fools of us all. "I'm not as smart as you, but I'm not stupid, either. Look, just, be careful. He seems to have some problems with commitment once he does get someone's interest." The conversation quieted again at this. Still a little red in the face, Brooke nodded as if to say she understood and then turned back toward the television. Something began to buzz against Chloe's right leg. Coming to life all at once, Chloe eagerly began to dig into her right front pocket, earning a curious look from Rachel and Steph. When she freed her phone, though, it was not buzzing, not ringing. Opening the phone turned up nothing, no messages and no missed calls. False alarm, I guess?
"Nothing," Chloe explained, when she looked up and realized that now all four of the others were watching her. "False alarm." It did make her realize how on edge she had been up until the moment and quite suddenly she was all the more aware of how heavy her eyes were, how little she had been paying attention to the antics of the crew of criminals on screen or their wanted passengers. Maybe Skip just wasn't going to call that night. Or maybe his boss said no and I'm just fucked? She gestured for everyone to go back to the show and promptly slumped against the back of the couch. The only benefit to this was that Max took it as an excuse to press closer against her. It was enough to push her closer to sleep.
In order to avoid passing out and screwing her sleep schedule (not to mention potentially missing the call which she still held some hope was coming) Chloe excused herself after a few minutes to go have a smoke. Joined out back not by Pompidou but by Rachel, Chloe settled onto the step just outside of the door and looked up at the rapidly darkening sky. The sun was on its way down, and quickly. Rachel did not seem to mind, though. Instead of sitting on the step beside Chloe and sharing a cigarette, she walked out into the middle of the yard and turned on the spot so that she was looking at Chloe with open concern.
Chloe, for her part, tried to do everything she could to convince Rachel that no concern was needed. She maintained eye contact, raising an eyebrow as if asking the girl what was wrong as she smoked, stretching her bare feet out into the cool, damp blades of grass in front of the step. It was always comforting to be able to go without shoes, even if she wouldn't particularly risk doing so much farther into the yard, what with a dog running around. Eventually, though, not even her 'everything's fine, look at me relax' gimmick was enough for Rachel.
"Are you sure you're okay?" the blonde asked her.
"I think I'm getting better, maybe? Tonight's just a bad night. I'm not sure what it is but I really don't like it." Rachel nodded, though Chloe personally thought she hadn't given much of an answer at all. Maybe Rachel was holding back on pushing her. Do I look like I'm that tired? If something the thespian had seen on her face was enough to hold back Rachel, it was probably something that Chloe ought to be worried about. "I don't know."
"Hey," Rachel started, relaxing a bit but at the same time, allowing some sort of playful tone to come to her voice. "You wanna see something fucking cool?"
"Like?"
"I've been meaning to show you guys this for a while, but I didn't wanna upset Max." Chloe frowned at her, a little bit concerned. Rachel was dodging the question, but then again, hadn't Chloe just done the same thing about her obvious exhaustion? What was really perplexing was that instead of explaining any further or showing her anything of note, Rachel turned away and-arms hanging at her side- lifted her head up. Chloe did not speak. She watched the girl in silence, waiting for some sign of what exactly Rachel was up to.
The first of such signs was so subtle that Chloe wrote it off the first time it happened. In the beginning it was just a soft gust of wind, which was not particularly unusual. Yet, as Rachel stood rooted in spot, she brought her hands into her jacket pockets and continued to say and do nothing immediately noticeable. After something around a minute and a half, Chloe rose to her own feet and that was when she realized that Rachel was not pulling her leg or having some kind of laugh at her expense. The blonde's long hair was beginning to shift in a wind that came from the north in one moment and the west the next. When Chloe looked up at the sky, she realized the already rapidly dropping sun was, alongside everything else that should have been suspended in the air in front of her, obscured by a suddenly coalescing cloud cover.
Over the next five minutes Chloe stood by the door in silence as, not making a sound of her own, Rachel conjured a small thunderstorm from thin air step by step in the February evening sky. At one point, Chloe found herself gaping in wonder as the first clap of thunder rolled over the area. On the farthest edge of the storm, the dark sky was split by a sharp, jagged forking light which trailed to the earth and for a fraction of a second, night was day. The rain came next. As if torn by the lightning bolt, the dark clouds which Chloe had just watched take shape before her very eyes began to loose a very cold, very hard rain. She took one look back into the house and found that the back door was open. Max stood framed in it, watching, clutching something in her left hand.
At Chloe's gesture, the photographer stepped out in the old, tattered red sweatshirt and stood beside her. Steadily, the rain and wind raced to see who would come the quickest and the heaviest. Even soaked, Rachel's thick blonde hair rose and blew around her head and the girl swayed as if the force of the storm was enough that she did not think she could stay standing. Speaking of soaked, Chloe thought, pulling at the wet mass of fabric that was her favorite beanie. She shivered as another loud clap of thunder made the windows just to her right rattle in their frames. Chloe doubted it had anything to do with how cold she was. Throughout all of this, Rachel did not open her eyes or free her hands from the waterlogged leather jacket. Chloe was glad Pompidou was inside.
When Max's right hand wormed its way into Chloe's left, the artist turned to look for any sign of discomfort on Max's face. Instead, the photographer beckoned her forward, into the yard. Another bolt of lightning struck Arcadia Bay, this one casting an almost pink hue over the photographer. Chloe looked down to see what was clutched in Max's left hand and recognize it as a polaroid which was developing. She rather thought, if the photo survived this sudden storm, she would want to see it. Together, they approached Rachel who remained a sentinel, unmoving at the center of a storm which Chloe thought might be growing larger and larger the longer it went on. This was beyond anything Rachel had ever even hinted at before, putting even her wildfires to shame with its beauty and its fury. And its danger.
For a moment as they walked, Max seemed to take a second to close her eyes and embrace the rain but by the time they were in range of Rachel, who likely heard absolutely nothing over the sounds of wind and rain and thunder, the photographer's eyes were open again and she released Chloe. Without looking elsewhere or giving the thespian any kind of warning, Max reached her arms around the girl from behind and leaned her face into Rachel's upper back, hugging her close. At this Rachel opened her eyes and lowered her gaze. Seeing Chloe beside her, Rachel nodded as if she understood who was holding onto her and then, slowly, her look of concentration transformed into a serene smile. A second ago, Rachel had looked to Chloe like some kind of heathen storm goddess out on the warpath. With Max hanging onto her from behind and her dripping hair growing still, for a moment, she might have been a valkyrie dropped into the ocean.
"I don't have to hurt people with this," Rachel called between the low, long rolls of thunder. "I don't have to burn everything. I can make things, too." The look on the blonde's face almost made Chloe want to tear up. It was the kind of relief that made a person want to laugh. The way Rachel's shoulders shook as she spoke, likely she was suppressing just such a chuckle. Again, they were bathed in light from a lighting strike. Chloe wondered if Rachel had been practicing this or if it had simply come to her. Either way, she could watch the tension fade from Rachel's body and feel it easing out of her own as the rain began to slow, the wind died and the cloud coverage stretching as far as the eye could see began to thin. The storm, as quickly as it had formed, broke apart before their eyes.
Chloe turned, laughing, back toward the house. Standing at the back door with a beer in her hand was Steph, who raised it very briefly before turning away and doubtlessly returning to Firefly with Brooke. The bluenette pushed the hair plastered to her forehead back and when Max finally released Rachel, did her best to do the same for Max. There weren't a ton of words she could come up with for the moment, when words were supposed to be her thing. Ever the performer, Rachel brought the storm to an end as, with its dying gasp, it loosed one last low rumble of thunder and then stopped.
"Holy shit!" Chloe did not care how loud the call was. Her voice echoed in the suddenly quiet air. Rachel and Max shared a brief, almost joyful hug, during which Rachel seemed to have her concerns about how Max would react put to ease. "That was... that was fucking incredible."
"You're fucking incredible," Max amended, still locking eyes with Rachel. It was true. In comparison to what the two of them could do, Chloe's own strange ability seemed like an oddity, a dud. The people of Arcadia Bay might remark about the odd pop-up storm that came and went quickly, without explanation and most unseasonably. None of them would ever know that it had Rachel Amber just doing Rachel Amber things and bending the forces of nature to her will. After a second, Max turned to Chloe, excitement on her face. Confused, Chloe just stared back. The excitement should have been directed at Rachel. "Chloe," Max prompted her. "Chloe, don't you hear that?" At this question, Chloe did hear 'that'. Her pocket was ringing. Still in a bit of a daze, Chloe pulled her phone from it and answered without looking.
"Hello?" Chloe started, then cleared her throat and repeated herself, more emphatically. "Hello?"
"Hey, Chloe," Skip's voice came through loud and clear. "Holy shit, did you just see that storm?" Chloe blinked once or twice. Skip's place, as far as she knew, was on the edge of Arcadia Bay, whereas Steph's was as in the center as one got. Rachel really had just bathed the entire town in a storm.
"Yeah, I was out in it. It was hella awesome," Chloe told him, laughing despite herself. Then she realized who she was talking to. The man on the other end of the phone call, who had once revealed to her that she and Justin were labeled 'high risk' students, had really only one reason to be calling her. "Oh- oh shit, Skip did you hear anything back from the boss?" This earned her a chuckle.
"Yeah, Chloe. He's a bit on the fence about hiring a high school student since you'd basically only be able to work about a day a week, but you've got your shot." Chloe fist pumped, shamelessly jumping in place. When she came back down, it took all of her effort plus Rachel suddenly reaching out to steady her to prevent her from slipping in the newly formed mud. "Come in next Tuesday at five and give an interview. He's probably going to test you or something. He does it to anyone he isn't sure about." No problem, she wanted to cheer. It really wasn't. The place was a brake and tire shop and didn't do much else of note. The absolute worst Peterson (the man who owned the shop) could do was ask her to diagnose brake problems or lug around some Overcompensator's big ass tire. She had done both before. "You there, Chloe?"
"Trying not to yell your ear off. I really fucking appreciate it, Skip." Grinning as Rachel tried and failed to wipe strands of her soaked hair from her face and behind her ears, Chloe kept the conversation up with Skip until he suggested it was time for him to go get dinner and then let him go without another word. It took all of her effort to hold off celebrating until her phone was safely back in her pocket, but Chloe happily accepted a couple of hugs and Max's peck on her cheek. Fuck yes, Chloe cheered to herself. This is what I needed. Wet and in a couple of cases a little muddy, the three of them returned to the house. With Chloe at the front, they paused on the edge of the living room as first Brooke then Steph turned toward them.
"What the hell happened to you guys?" Brooke asked. "Were you just standing out there in that weird-ass storm?"
"Yup," Chloe declared, feeling a sort of pride that she wasn't sure didn't come as much from Rachel being the source of that storm as anything else. "And it was a badass storm, thank you very much. But I got the call back. I've got an interview after business hours on Tuesday." This was met with a brief, if heartfelt congratulations and then Steph making a declaration of her own.
"Go dry the fuck off before you sit down. And if you guys take too long, I'm going to come knocking. This is no time for excess celebration." Chloe stuck her tongue out at the auburn-haired girl and the implications laced into her comments.
"Fuckin' pervert," Rachel teased the girl.
"Says the pot to the kettle," Max added, as if defending Steph. Chloe grabbed each of them by the hands and, tracking muddy footprints across the kitchen floor she would need to clean up later, started to lead the girls toward the stairs where a good supply of clean towels (not to mention some dry clothing) might be found. Despite all of her best intentions, after returning to the living room in the company of Rachel and Max, Chloe did not tune into the show and watch for the rest of the night. Curled up beside Max, Chloe gave way to her exhaustion and went to sleep. At some point, and she could not be sure how much time had passed because she could not hear the show in the background and she was not about to open her eyes, Chloe was shaken awake by Rachel.
"It's time for Max and I to go. Gotta let go of her." Chloe made a noise that was as coherent of a denial as she felt like giving and wrapped her arms tighter around the brunette she realized she was holding onto. Chloe felt Max's fingers passing through her hair which, while dry, was still a bit messy from the storm. This did nothing to convince her to let go of the photographer, in fact inspiring the opposite.
"No," Chloe finally muttered. "Mine."
"I mean, you could always try to sneak into and back out of the dorms in one night," Max advised her, quietly. "With David around that might be a pain in the ass though."
"Or let me put it this way," Rachel said from her left, leaning close so that she could whisper to Chloe. "If you don't let go now, Steph and Brooke will find out just how ticklish you actually are." Huffing, Chloe released Max and opened her eyes as she lifted her head from the girl's shoulder. She knew by the tone of the blonde's voice not to challenge her. There were times when Rachel made a threat like that and she did not mean it; there were others when she meant it. Chloe knew the difference at this point in her life.
"Fine," the artist surrendered. She looked up just in time to see Brooke rolling her eyes at Chloe's antics. Let her. Brooke didn't know how comfortable a Max pillow could be.