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Who: Max Mayfield + You??
When: Sunday
Where: Here there and everywhere.
What: Arriving at the station and trying to figure out what's going on.
Warnings: Mentions of fighting and domestic violence. Spoilers for most of season two of Stranger Things!

[Her skateboard is clutched tightly in her arms as she makes her way down the various halls of the station. She has approximately 110 million questions burning in her mind, but she also doesn't know who to corner and demand answers from. As far as she understood, literally everyone got here the same way, which means no one's here because they chose to be.

She's still shaken up from the way Billy had charged into the Byers' house, first grabbing Lucas and then proceeding to beat the hell out of Steve as she'd stood by, paralyzed with fear. Way to go, Max, she thinks. It isn't the first time she's seen Billy in a rage like that, and it's never any less terrifying. He's so full of hate, of anger.

Her mind alternates between Hawkins and this new, foreign place as she wanders somewhat aimlessly, taking in the new scenery and thinking to herself that she's going to have to draw a map to figure out where everything is.

Because apparently there's no way back, and she's not sure how she feels about that.]

[Open to Roommates]

[In her wandering, she actually manages to find an empty room. With a bed. She sets her skateboard down carefully and then falls back onto it, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. She's seconds away from passing out when she hears a weird noise. Opening one eye she turns her head in the direction the noise had come from. Definitely the wall.

Max sits up a little, eyebrows furrowing until she sees something bigger than a mouse scurry across the floor. Not a rat - it's - actually she's not sure what it is, but she quickly gets out of bed anyway. She hears another noise, this time from the adjoining common room, and she tenses, then makes her way out of the room, freezing when she sees another person standing there, looking back at her.]

Uh, hey.

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Good to know my grasp of basic science wasn't too far off the mark. [Her voice is wry.]

I don't know, personally I'm a fan of breathing. Call me weird.

A shame. I hear the halls are rather rife with mold at the moment. Breathe in deeply, by all means, but don’t hold me culpable should you start growing spores in your lungs.

[That is definitely how diseases work. Yep.]

Well, of course. Why not?

[Still. Mold beats demodogs, or Billy for that matter.]

Got a name?

[They used to turn it into a Game. Guess their title. Name the fallen child. Six letters or less,and you too can summon the demon that comes when people call its name.]

[It has lost its allure, by now.]

[But old habits die hard.]

Most do. Do you?

Nope. I'm just the red-headed stepchild.

[Ha ha ha. She's so funny. :|]

What a coincidence. I'm just the red-eyed black sheep.

[Two can play at that Game. Ha ha.]

But you look nothing like a sheep.

It's a figure of speech. Something that is clearly so foreign to you, that you cannot recognize it when presented with a plain example.

[They'd make a joke about it going right over her head, but given that Chara is roughly the same height as your average ten-year-old, they would more than resemble that remark.]

And you're clearly unfamiliar with sarcasm.

[Her eyebrows arch.]

How old are you anyway?

Edited 2018-02-07 01:48 (UTC)

Are we counting the years I spent alive, or the ones I spent dead, as well?

[Starting things off strong. As you do.]

[That's not exactly the answer she was anticipating, but okay. She'll go with it.]

Alive.

I have no idea.

[Their smile widens at that; they sound delighted, but in a manner that comes across as, perhaps, more than a little unhinged. It's the sort of manic hilarity you find when all other emotional avenues have been exhausted, and there's simply nowhere else to go.]

[That's their default.]

Somewhere between nine and thirteen, I've been told. Rather a large window, don't you think?

[Well that's a little unsettling. Unfortunately it makes her even more curious and she has a feeling she's not going to be getting any actual answers.

It's not really any of her business, either.]

Yeah. I guess so.

Speak to a great many deceased children, do you? [Or perhaps her tolerance for Chara's bullshit simply doesn't compare to the adjustment of her initial arrival. It happens.]

Only on days that end in Y.

[Yet more sarcasm. It's her favorite defense mechanism.]

Goodie. Something else we can have in common. There's quite the surplus here.

[Not really, but plenty of children here have already been deceased, or will be deceased, or have fates set in stone. Plenty will die here, and plenty will leave Avagi eventually, only to inevitably perish.]

[She's not entirely sure she won't be one of them in the near future, considering what was happening back home. It's not something she's dwelling on because she's not really worried about it. She just accepts that it's a real possibility.

Max decides to change tactics.]

All right, so any tips for a newbie around this place?

Learn to fight. Get used to change. Adapt quickly.

[Rattled off in quick succession. Someone get them a self-help book deal. Clearly they’re cut out for it.]

And take care in regards to who you trust.

[She's got those last three things down already thanks to her family. Learning to fight though...probably not a bad idea. She can throw a punch with the best of them, but beyond that...]

Okay. Thank you for your help.

Are you armed, by any chance?

[She has a skateboard, but that’s not much in the way of a weapon. She would benefit from something more.]

[Max eyes them warily.]

Not yet.

[A quiet hum of acknowledgment. Then - ]

[They slip something from their pocket and hold it out, handle first. It's not pretty; it's roughly made, fashioned with a chunk of discarded rebar, sharpened at its edges, with something silvery that looks an awful lot like duct tape swathed around its handle to soften the grip.]

[As far as weapons go, she could probably do better than a homemade shiv.]

[But it's hers, if she wants it.]

As I've said: it pays to adapt.

[Her face registers surprise as they hold the weapon out to her. She has no idea what this place has in store. Maybe having a weapon wouldn't be a bad idea. She reaches out and takes it after a second, examining it intently and then smiling.]

Thank you.

[A beat.]

I'm Max.

[Sarcasic rebuttals and a sensibility when it comes to weaponry. Don’t tell anyone lest it damage their aloof reputation, but they like her already.]

I am Chara. [And look at that. A straight answer. Amazing.] When in close quarters, people will inevitably draw near you. When they do, it is best to allow for it only on your own terms.

[So always carry copious sharp and pointy objects, essentially. This is sound logic.]

[It's kind of new for someone to like her when they first meet her, so maybe this is progress.]

So there are a lot of dangerous people here?

[People who can't be trusted.]

Edited 2018-02-09 02:28 (UTC)