maskormenace | 003 - [Video] Happy Birthday, Chloe Price.

[It's a little after noon when Chloe turns her communicator on. She's sitting on an old white plastic deck chair, and from the look of the buildings behind her, probably on a roof somewhere in Nonah. She's in a worn old white tanktop with a skull on the front, her jeans-covered legs propped up on something, her coat hanging off the back of her chair. She's spent the morning avoiding people, not answering her texts, just...brooding. There's a cigarette between her lips, and she takes a drag off it before she catches it with her other hand, her attention mostly on the phone.]

You ever think about time 'n shit? Like, how it hella doesn't make any sense here? Like, okay, back home, before I wound up here, it was 2013 right? In October.

[She leans back in her chair, resting the phone on her leg, tilted up so all the screen really catches is her face and neck and the clouds.]

Suddenly I'm here, it's three years and a couple months later. Just, wham, welcome to the future except it's a weird fucked up cold war version of the future. And I get like, it's way worse for other people, right? Pulled from other centuries or other fuckin' planets with their own weird-ass calendars but.

Three years.

[She's not even really sure what she's going on about, honestly. She'd been puzzling this over in her head all morning and hadn't gotten anywhere, so maybe she thought rambling out loud would help. It wasn't really working.]

So here we are, right? March 11th, 2016. Shit had gone different, I'd be twenty-two today.

[She hesitates, her gaze distant, up on the clouds as she took another puff off her cigarette.]

Instead, I guess I'm twenty. Sort of. Minus a couple months. Still my birthday though. [And then she smirks, pointing the two fingers holding her cigarette at the sky.] Fuck you, universe. Chloe Price made it to twenty after all.

[She scooped up the phone again, and for a second is framed in the picture again, the camera half-covered by her thumb as she reaches for the disconnect. Her voice is quieter again.]

Didn't see that comin'.

[Click.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I wouldn't get someone a subpar cupcake for their birthday.

[Who does Chloe think Cindy is, a supervillain?]

[Clearly.]

No I meant, like, one you think is perfect not one everyone else does.

[At this point, Cindy realises she should probably get Chloe something she wants for her birthday.]

I mean, I could get you the frosting covered ones if you want.

Nah, it's cool. I'm kinda curious now what you think is a perfect cupcake.

Then I will find you the Cindy Moon approved cupcake.

--Maybe a bunch of them.

[A grin.]

Like I said, never gonna say no to a cupcake. Or cupcakes.

And uh, if you want the house to yourself, just let me know. I can skedaddle.

[Do people still say skedaddle, crap.]

[Chloe just bursts out laughing at that.]

Thanks. Be sure you mention that to Max too, and tell me how red she turns.

I meant for a movie night or something!!

Uh huh. Sure ya did.

Because you totally have to evacuate the house if me and Max are watching a movie.

I just wanted to give you guys space. For romance or something.

I don't know how kids do it these days!

[Cindy, you're not even 30, stop.]

Pretty sure the same way you probably did it. Awkwardly but having fun.

[And now she's studying her, trying to guess something horrible.]

Like you, mm....Back...seat of a car. At prom.

[Chloe Price is kind of a jerk sometimes.]

Whoa! I never even went to prom!

And the rest of it's none of your business.

Oh man, thought I had you pegged.

[She's not that torn up about it, she just looks amused still.]

Not one to kiss and tell, huh?

There's not much to tell.

[This is her Not Talking About Spider-Man voice.]

Yeah, nobody ever says that unless there is totally a story they're embarrassed about.

Uh no, there's seriously nothing. No time for it with all the uh, hockey.

[Yes, hockey.]

The hockey.

[The most skeptical expression.]

You know I coach Peewee hockey! And I have to practice on my own time, too!

Pretty sure that peewee hockey isn't an excuse to never date.

[Hmm.]

I mean hell, there are probably some hot dads at practice. Or moms. Hot parents.

--Are you saying I should become the other woman?

[Chloe thinks this over. No, Cindy deserved better than that.]

Nah. But lots of hot dads and moms are single hot dads or moms.

Pretty sure that's against the hockey coaching code or something. Thou shalt not date the Peewee's parents.

Bet it's not. I bet it's not cause whoever wrote those rules wanted to bang a hot dad and/or mom.

[Chloe always assumes the baser instincts win.]

Wow, you must think telling eight year olds how to skate is pretty exciting. Mostly I'm too busy trying to make sure no one runs into the boards to look at the parents.

...Though they do yell a lot.

(no subject)

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