[Week 0, Sunday post-execution: Max]

[purrtagonist]

[this is the last fucking PC I'm making for Sunday I swear to god]

[ANYWAY 'SUP MAX, someone is knocking on your hotel room door! normally, at least. he isn't trying to be obnoxious]

[yet]

Comments

[purrtagonist]

You did basically call this a glorified babysitting job.

[shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs]

Want to hang out?

[????????????????]

[concertmaster]

Yeah, but the last actual baby I had to take care of was eaten by its own mother, what do I actually know about babysitting?

[don't question that.

also.

????????]

Okay, I know for a fact you have friends here. You can't possibly be that desperate.

1/2

[purrtagonist]

[. . . . . . . . . he wants to question that so badly]

[purrtagonist]

I do. Which should tell you that I'm not asking out of desperation.

[maybe he'll ask later. at like. Rank 5]

[concertmaster]

[honestly it's a rank 1 story, it's just... bad...]

Yeah, okay. Cute. The fuck are you trying to cozy up to teacher for?

[purrtagonist]

Information.

[what else!! also at least he's. honest]

But considering we're both Reapers-- I assume-- probably a slightly different type than what others have been asking.

[he thinks? he isn't sure, but. you know!]

[concertmaster]

[he doesn't answer the par about the assumption because max is a troll]

See, that makes more sense. I knew you had it in you to drop the bullshit. Yeah, sure, come in and ask your shit. I'm not hanging out at fucking Starbucks or minigolf, so.

[he is let into the elusive max hotel room!!!! it doesn't have a lot. the pictures from trial yesterday (is he keeping them...?), the now confiscated Sword of Dios and butterfly knife (is... he keeping that???), some rolled up joints (...ah...), and...

there's some knitting supplies too?

also a lot of coffee cups.

you have that in common.]

[purrtagonist]

[this confidant should be of the coffee arcana]

Do you only drink Stabrucks coffee?

[please max, he can introduce you to something so much better]

[concertmaster]

[he shrugs]

I made my own instant shit back at camp, but I can make do with pretty much anything so long as it's bitter and makes me hate people slightly less. Some jackasses used to tell me it'd stunt my growth, but joke's on them: my growth was stunted by dying, not coffee.

[purrtagonist]

[HA HA. . .]

[wryly]

That's filthy propaganda from the tea side of the argument, anyway.

[NO ONE TALKS BAD ABOUT HIS FAVORITE DRINK]

If I have the chance to buy some coffee beans, a coffee maker, and a grinder, I'll fix you up something bitter but with way more depth of flavor than the stuff at Starbucks.

[concertmaster]

[look he perused his file he doesn't know how intense akira gets over coffee

he also just. tilts his head like he's thinking]

Yeah I can't do spoilers. FYI. That includes places.

[ah.

akira wasn't asking, max...]

[purrtagonist]

[arches a brow, arms folded, shoulder resting against the wall. he won't sit until Max tells him he can, he ain't that rude]

Wasn't asking, but thanks for the "non-spoiler."

[concertmaster]

[Max is not that polite, so they're at an impasse. He sits down on his own bed, arms and legs crossed and trying to look judgmental.

again he is four feet tall]

You said you had stuff to ask, how the fuck am I supposed to know which one's a real question or not? Anyway, spill it already.

[purrtagonist]

[well, he asked]

Was I right? Are you a Reaper, too?

[concertmaster]

[... he kicks his legs idly]

I'm a host, Joker.

[well. that's a non-answer.]

[purrtagonist]

[hashtag spoilers]

What's the difference between a host and a Reaper?

[concertmaster]

That's above your pay grade.

[a beat]

And before you ask, you'd need one heck of a promotion to get the answer, so it's the same even with the other idiots.

[purrtagonist]

"Above my pay grade" or "spoilers but I'm telling you it's above your pay grade so you drop it?"

[concertmaster]

Above your pay grade.

[he's not budging on that]

If you don't want to drop it, door's right there.

[purrtagonist]

[. . .]

Hm.

[moving on--]

Did you at least play in and win a Game prior to becoming a host?

[concertmaster]

Yeah.

[chinhands]

The Game was a fucking horror show and I'm not gonna talk about it, since I'm guessing that was your next question.

[purrtagonist]

[mmmmm. pushes his glasses back on his nose so the lenses obscure his expression, which is a good thing. his eyes are narrowing slightly, but only momentarily, before his features soften]

It was. I'll skip it.

[not a Rank 1 conversation, got it. maybe not even a Rank 10 one]

Why did you decide to become a host?

[concertmaster]

I didn't "decide" to become host here. I was volunteered. Pretty sure I already said that one.

[he's still kicking his legs]

If you mean whatever path lead me here instead of the pure second chance redo go back to your life reincarnation option... Why didn't you pick it?

[purrtagonist]

[he's starting to notice a bit of a physical quirk, here. and that is the question he meant, so throw it right back at him why don't you, Max]

I wanted to help people.

[fortunately, it's one he doesn't mind answering]

. . . when I died, I failed the friends and confidants who mattered to me the most. Who counted on me the most. That was a punch to the gut-- knowing that I had let them all down, after trying so hard to protect them. Knowing that my death meant they would soon die as well.

But winning my Game gave me a chance to go back and set that right. And that's exactly what I did.

[he punched Akechi in the face, stole Shido's heart, shot a god. . . it was all pretty great]

[he gives a small, tiny shrug]

That's what I believed a Reaper's job should be. A guide. Someone to support the dead, and encourage them to grow and change before taking their second shot at living.

I wanted to give back what was given to me, and then some.

[pay back a debt he felt like he owed. to whom? who knows? the Composer? the cosmos? Akira always pays his debts]

[concertmaster]

That ... is the corniest shit I've ever heard. Your Composer and Game seriously pulled the wool over your eyes on that one, huh?

[wow. wow, max. He obviously means the judgmental tone he says that with, too. he shoves his hands into his hoodie and stares straight at Akira when he speaks, just as bored as he usually sounds.]

Fun fact: I didn't believe in an afterlife when I was alive. Death was going to be eternal nothingness, and it was gonna be great. [a beat] I'd call it the hopeful and frankly naive wishful thinking of a kid, but honestly, it was probably just life screwing me over as usual. Anyway, I got the option to not go back to my shitty life, so why the hell wouldn't I take it? It's not like anyone would've cared either way. One more dead kid in the world, big whoop.