week 4, sunday

[reapertoire]

[ After the execution, in which exactly two people died and nothing else weird happened, Kaiba will suddenly find himself in an alleyway behind the McDonald's!

Please don't question whether the McDonald's even had an alley behind it. Anyway, waiting for him like this is some kind of shitty drug deal is Max, holding a small case with eight pins in it.

... Just go with it? ]

Comments

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

But-- If this were DQ, maybe, but-- McDonalds doesn't even have royalty! They're owned by a clown, they've even deposed the mayor!

[concertmaster]

I didn't pick the names. I really don't care for this kind of subterfuge bullshit. But. I can get you some DQ if you want?

[he honestly did not think anyone would pick it and feels one percent bad]

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

. . .

[concertmaster]

[......

awkwardly pats his shoulder]

KFC?

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

[ ...Okay. He is not going to be comforted by a child who isn't even a ranked duelist, that's just pathetic. Picking up the shreds of his dignity, he stands up straight, brushing dust off his coat. ]

...Bojangles.

[concertmaster]

You drive a hard bargain. We're in Shibuya. [shrugs] But sure. I can give it to you now or later.

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

You're a ghost with illogical magical powers, you should be able to get your hands on some sweet tea. ...Later. After today, I can't imagine anyone having any appetite.

[concertmaster]

I don't know what you're talking about nothing weird happened.

[just. legitimately. refusing to acknowledge that.]

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

[ super fair ]

...You've been doing this for some time, haven't you? Do no weird things happen often?

[concertmaster]

If something weird had happened, which it fucking didn't, I can tell you that it would be a fucking bizarre and insane occurrence even in the most fucked up Games I've been in.

But luckily nothing weird happened.

[whos gonna pay our therapy bills]

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

[ does cure drink work on brains? ]

"Lucky," sure. When strange things don't happen in the games I've run, it's usually just irritating friendship speeches and people's souls being trapped in playing cards. You might want to consider a change of careers.

[concertmaster]

If any change in my career path didn't involve permanent erasure, I'd have done it before I was ever stationed here. But fucking noted.

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

...Hm.

When people here go on about impressing the Composer enough to save "everyone," does that include you?

[concertmaster]

[he tilts his head a bit]

Ultimately, the Composer is the one with the power revive people.

[... but that's not a no.]

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

So it's theoretically as much in your best interests to learn the criteria to please them as ours. Or do you already know?

[concertmaster]

I already know. My role in this Game is kinda bullshit and complicated, but when it comes to the Composer, I am supposed to act as a support. Kinda helps to know what they want in that case.

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

And couldn't you be a more effective support by outsourcing some of those duties to others? You don't think we design all the tiny bits and pieces of this thing in-house, do you?

[ gestures with his duel disk ]

[concertmaster]

No, you send most of the work to China so a bunch of kids my age can build it for you.

[max now is not the time to talk about capitalism]

What do you want me to outsource, exactly? The part where I have to talk to you guys? Cause I'd gladly leave that to the dog.

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

Vietnam, actually; less government oversight, cheaper prices, better food.

Anyway, as much as I'm sure everyone would rather deal with a non-verbal beast for explanations throughout the week--and that isn't sarcasm--what I'm trying to get at is some way to start getting some concrete information on winning the real contest here without being hamstrung by your relationship with the Composer. Information on a true victory is the "king's treat" I was after.

[concertmaster]

That's fair. Fucked up, but fair.

[he just shrugs]

You could always ask the Composer yourself.

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

Oh, I just write a letter? Should I leave out milk and cookies by my stocking as well? I'm really hoping for a pony.

[concertmaster]

It's about bureaucracy, not about make-believe about the fat man in the sky.

[a beat]

And I think we both fucking know you'd rather have a dragon.

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

Even a make-believe sky bureaucrat isn't going to fit a dragon down my chimney.

But sure, why not? Any tips to keep out of the round file? If whatever message is just going to the secretary, I'd rather not waste too much effort.

[concertmaster]

Yeah, in this metaphor? I'm the secretary, jackass. And I'm starting like I might wanna lose your mail on purpose.

[blueeyeswaifudragon]

Isn't mail tampering a federal crime? Though not as much as a crime as being ten years old and stuck on the secretarial track. This is why they say to stay in school.