[Week 3, Tuesday: Max]

[purrtagonist]

[wherever Max is, someone is bumping the back of his head lightly with a cup of-- GASP-- coffee! it's Akira. of course it's Akira. who else would it be]

There has to be a better place to hide that coffee maker than in the McDonald's bathroom.

Comments

[concertmaster]

[........]

Yeah, it might get censored on the way out depending on what "everything" means.

[purrtagonist]

Okay, well, not everything everything.

[they already established he doesn't want to out himself??? and he does understand that he may not be allowed to be as frank as he'd like]

That the Composer is doing this to prove something. That something or someone, somewhere, is benefiting from this Game. That there's more to it than there is on the surface. That they should be questioning everything about the setup, instead of assuming that eliminating the Reapers is the "right" solution.

Aaand maybe a warning that there are two groups of Reapers, here. Not just one. And that Players should look for them a little closer to home. Sometimes, people are helpful because they have ulterior motives, after all.

[concertmaster]

... That might be doable. I can't guarantee you jack shit on results, but it sounds like there's nothing I wouldn't tell Players in there. If they, you know, fucking asked.

[purrtagonist]

Maybe this will encourage them to start asking. Ah-- sorry if it means they pester you more.

[holds out one hand, fingers wagging]

Can I get a pen and paper?

[concertmaster]

I hate it, but it's my job.

[shrugs and grabs a pen and paper from his hoodie. how many things are in there. ]

Here you go.

[purrtagonist]

[it's a hoodie of holding]

[anyway, Akira gets right to work, but he's being kind of thoughtful about word choice and perspective, here. so it might take him a bit. and as he works on the letter?]

Sooo.

Come up with any new assassination plots lately?

[he asks that question totally casually]

[concertmaster]

[squints]

If that's you being subtle, maybe I should take the letter back.

[but he doesn't.]

They're not assassination plots. They're... options.

[purrtagonist]

I'm bad at subtle.

[hahaha]

Options, then.

[concertmaster]

[hrm]

Ask your question and have it be done with.

[purrtagonist]

. . . why do you hate this person so much?

[there it is]

[concertmaster]

He's my Composer.

[purrtagonist]

[holy shit]

Ah. . .

[slowly, while he processes this]

Are you angling for a promotion?

[concertmaster]

Fuck no. I told you, I'm not going for the erasure myself. I'm trying to get someone else to do it.

[purrtagonist]

Who?

[a friend?? a foe??]

[concertmaster]

Anyone. I was going to pick from the Player crop next Game, but I'm here instead.

[purrtagonist]

Hm. Slight detour in your plan.

Why do you want to kill your Composer?

[concertmaster]

[... he shoves his hands in his hoodie, glaring at akira sullenly]

Reasons.

[:/]

[purrtagonist]

. . . you know I'm going to ask, right?

[concertmaster]

It's... fucking complicated, okay. And a long, bullshit story.

[purrtagonist]

It's okay. I'm not in a hurry.

[looks up from his letter to watch Max catefully]

[concertmaster]

[ he mostly looks reluctant. ]

I... Okay, so I told you I was in a shitty fucking summer camp, right. When I call it a scam, I'm not kidding. Camp Campbell was run by some guy trying to get as much money as possible from a bunch of sucker parents by getting kids to sign up to a camp that did any and all activities. It didn't do any of them well, obviously. It was a fucking scam.

[purrtagonist]

[and as always? Akira is patient, letting Max go at his own pace]

Sounds like the kind of guy who would've been targeted by the Phantom Thieves.

[concertmaster]

... Sure, I guess. Anyway, through some fucking shenanigans, that guy? Cameron Campbell? Ended up Composer right before I played the Game.

[purrtagonist]

[oh my god???]

How. . . does a scamming camp owner become something as powerful as a Composer?

[concertmaster]

The camp shit? That was one of his small misdeeds. The guy was a wanted criminal on a lot of counts. Prime Minister of Thailand at some point, sold platypus eggs on the black market, ran the fuck away to Russia a few times, wanted by the FBI, I'm not gonna gonna list all the incredibly illegal shit he talked about doing whenever he popped back into camp.