purrtagonist | [Week 0, Sunday post-execution: Max]

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.

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

Above your pay grade.

[he's not budging on that]

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

[. . .]

Hm.

[moving on--]

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

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.

[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?

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?

[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]

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.

[a soft snort]

Less them pulling the wool over my eyes and more me failing to see the bigger picture. In the end, I volunteered for this, whether I truly knew what I was getting into or not.

[he is quiet for a moment when Max is finished, though]

What was your life like before you died?

[the judgmental look only gets stronger]

Oh, it was all rainbows and butterflies. That's why I've got such a cheery, optimistic outlook on life and died at ten years old.

[... sorry, akira]

[HE'LL GET THROUGH TO YOU EVENTUALLY, MAX]

Clearly. Your sunny disposition can be almost blinding at times.

[links his hands together and stretches as he contemplates something. and then, he offers up--]

So how much do you know about "Joker," anyway? Do they give you files on us to read before the game starts?

To properly pick an entry fee, you kinda need to know shit about any and all jackasses who wind up here. Since you guys are pretend players, I got the general gist there too. In your case: something something unfair society, magical otherworldly powers, changing people's entire life view by force-- fucked up, but probably the only way that works-- then getting shot in the face. ...And your Game.

[max shrugs]

Composers are pretty fucking finicky creatures, honestly. Some bullshit about power or the kind of personality needed to run something like this? I don't know. They're not the share-y type. So I don't have a lot of details on anything for your Game and beyond except "wow, those guys sure are Reapers on loan, thanks".

[DANG]

That kind of ruins the dramatic impact of me sharing with you by oh-so tragic backstory.

[so wry]

Yeah, sorry. I mean. Thanks for sharing?

[aw he actually looks like he feels a bit awkward about it]

[aw, Max]

I made an effort. I think that counts.

For what? Pity points?

Hell no.

I was just going to pay you back for some of the information you've given me, that's all.

[read, also: bonding]

Sharing info is literally my entire job. I don't need to do tradesies for it.

I know you don't "need" to.

I just like to repay my debts. It keeps me even.

You don't owe me shit. I haven't done you any favors.

You've done your job, sure. But has anyone else ever tried to pay you for it?

[child labor is against the law]

[there are no laws when you're dead]

No, because it'd be fucking weird. It's not like you guys get paid for this Reaper bullshit.

[someone needs to make dead laws]

No, but that just makes it sound like we need our own union.

Good luck recommending that to any Composer. You know the usual Reaper path ends in Erasure, right?

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