Choices, Choices

Maxine Caulfield crossed her legs and steepled her fingers.

She gave a massive sigh. "Well, I guess we're doing this, now."

Before her sat a circle of high chairs, mini-thrones before her full-bodied marble seat, higher than all of them. It was far more comfortable than it should've been – same could be said for her current reality.

She was used to her own fucked up dreams, but even this one had little details and quirks that had her feeling unfocused.

The other Maxes in the room, staring expectantly up at her, certainly didn't help. Chloe was going to have a lot of trouble recreating her descriptions when she woke up from this one.

Once, she rode a deer through battle, Alyssa the Fairy on her shoulder, to slay the Jabberwocky Nate and behead the Queen Bitch Victoria, saving Princess Kate. That made sense.

This; not so much.

She blinked at the white room surrounding her, and each of her varying reflections. "Am I dead?" A good, simple, first question.

Max – well, one of them – seemed to consider her words. "Well, I don't think so. I don't feel dead. Do you?"

"I... don't think so." Suddenly, not so simple or good.

What the hell was she doing before? She should be remembering; it wasn't like her to lose her memory, especially when she wanted to forget.

Was it the weed Chloe gave her? No; that wasn't it. Chloe promised her that it was the weakest shit she had. She called it the Appletini of skunk.

And she was just starting to realize that was an oxymoron, considering skunk was slang for really strong weed. Fucking Chloe.

"I think I just need to close my eyes for a second."

Some of her other selves nodded. "Good idea," one said aloud. Her rainbow hair was louder than she was. It swished as she looked back and forth at the very familiar faces. "That's the last time I try that strain."

There were several mutterings of agreement, smatterings of 'Chloe' and 'fuck' reaching her ears. Her sentiments exactly, but then again, that was expected from her audience. Some looked confused at the exchange, and again, she agreed with that reaction whole-heartedly.

One comment did stick out, however.

"...I swear I'm not even pulling out, next time."

The relatively quiet seething slowly crawled to an ice cold fucking stop.

The Max who spoke furrowed her brows at the confused reactions, befuddled herself. "What? Something I said?"

The Max in the highest chair leaned forward, scrutinizing everyone before her. "Why are we here?"

"Bad weed," one of them said quickly.

"Chloe," said another.

"Bad Chloe," was the conclusion.

"No," Max said. "I mean – why here? Does this have something to do with... our power?"

"That seems fairly obvious," Rainbow-Max confirmed, her frown a concerned one. "I was getting ready for Prom and graduation, and Chloe convinced me to take the edge off."

Confused stares all around. "We were getting blazed watching the new Blade Runner," she helpfully supplied.

Or, rather, added to the collaborative breakdown of all of her. "There's another Blade Runner?!" echoed from several points in the room.