Claire Bennet (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
regenerated) wrote2011-08-05 12:22 pm
regenerated) wrote2011-08-05 12:22 pm
Entry tags:
just when you think you're in control
The fact that this switch is wrong on so many levels doesn't escape Claire. She's been around long enough to know that it isn't rare for people to wake up in bodies that clearly aren't their own, or for them to be bowled over by any number of strange physical changes, but even Claire has to admit, she's not sure whether it's better or worse to have woken up in the body of a friend. There are some small favors, at least. She's not in Chris' body, not in Peter Parker's, nor Eduardo's— the list of people goes on and on. Still, Claire can't help but feel a little disgruntled and more than a little unnerved at having to wake up to this in the morning, hair somehow cropped short and something very noticeable between her legs.
Fortunately, she knows where Maxxie lives, and hopefully as soon as she finds him, the both of them can work out boundaries and the best course of action to take for the next few days, or however long the switch lasts.
Thankful for the slew of large t-shirts that she keeps in her dresses, Claire hopes that Maxxie won't be too distraught at the fact that she simply doesn't have anything that breathes more for down than a pair of boxer briefs, and does her best to shimmy into a pair of sweatshorts (with the word 'SASSY' spelled out on the back) before kneeling beside her bedroom dresser. Even as her nose wrinkles at the task, she tosses as much as might be necessary into a bag. Clean underwear (is that too weird?), a few bras, some of her more nondescript t-shirts, a couple pears of jean shorts. As an afterthought, she also wraps her flip-flops in an old towel and throws those in too, before sneaking out of the hut and heading straight in the direction of Maxxie's place.
Desperately hoping that she doesn't run into anyone else before him.
Fortunately, she knows where Maxxie lives, and hopefully as soon as she finds him, the both of them can work out boundaries and the best course of action to take for the next few days, or however long the switch lasts.
Thankful for the slew of large t-shirts that she keeps in her dresses, Claire hopes that Maxxie won't be too distraught at the fact that she simply doesn't have anything that breathes more for down than a pair of boxer briefs, and does her best to shimmy into a pair of sweatshorts (with the word 'SASSY' spelled out on the back) before kneeling beside her bedroom dresser. Even as her nose wrinkles at the task, she tosses as much as might be necessary into a bag. Clean underwear (is that too weird?), a few bras, some of her more nondescript t-shirts, a couple pears of jean shorts. As an afterthought, she also wraps her flip-flops in an old towel and throws those in too, before sneaking out of the hut and heading straight in the direction of Maxxie's place.
Desperately hoping that she doesn't run into anyone else before him.
no subject
Maxxie has a schedule, you see. He has to, to look as good and as put together as he does on any given day. So the actual waking up part of the morning was the same as always. He blinked slowly to consciousness, rolled over for five more minutes of snoozing before finally getting out of bed. But the second his feet hit the floor, he had known something was wrong.
His feet just aren't that dainty. He has dancer's feet. Blistered and tough, flexible and light. His feet were still that, but also several sizes too small. A frantic dash to the bathroom had proven his gut-wrenching suspicion. He didn't need the mirror to know his body was not as it should be. He could feel that all over, in every step he took. The only thing the mirror did was inspire a shriek of horror when he saw Claire's face staring back at him.
This is all just so, so fucked.
He had tried the best he could, but none of his wardrobe was equipped for this. It was tailored to him, his body, not a girl's. He had made do with a t-shirt usually small for him but with wiggle room now and shorts he had to tug up every few yards. He needed to find Claire more than anything.
When he sees her -- him -- he doesn't know what to do. Somehow, he hadn't realized that if he was in Claire's body, Claire would naturally be in his.
You'd think a kid who looked at himself in the mirror as much as Maxxie did wouldn't be stopped short by the sight of himself coming down the boardwalk. It's all he can do to remember to hold onto his shorts.
no subject
Claire jumps, as soon as the words slip from her— his— lips. In spite of trying her best to hold back on speaking at all, the surprise is just too much for her to handle, Claire tilting her head as she takes in all of it. Somehow, it's the little details that she notices first. She's pretty sure that she's not as fit as Maxxie looks right now (the difference isn't extreme, but somehow Maxxie's face looks slightly more narrow, arms a bit more toned. More immediately is the shock of Maxxie's hair, the sight of the short crop hitting Claire in the gut, before she realizes that maybe they didn't simply switch bodies after all.
"Um," she begins with a deep breath, wincing at the voice that she hears, one not at all her own. "Please tell me that you're Maxxie. I think— I mean, unless we're playing magical bodies, which would suck, I'm guessing that the two of us just..."
Claire's gaze drops down to Maxxie's feet. "...actually, you know what, I don't think I have a simple explanation for this one."