Week 0, Post Trial - Max and Lenka

[withsadness]

[It's time...sleepover time. After getting all of her talking out of the way with those she wanted a short word with (what a crazy day!), Mary's feelings of sorrow for Maya are already burning off in favor of an excitement.

An excitement for hangouts. Sorry, Lenka, her attention span isn't the greatest. But maybe it's good that she doesn't seem traumatized at all when the guest of honor shows up at her and her partner's assigned bedroom.]

Hooray! You came! Thank you for agreeing to hang out with me tonight, Max!

Comments

[soylentprotag]

[This is probably the most surreal day he's had in a while. They're... having a sleepover with the trial judge-slash-McDonald's supervisor while they wait for an honest-to-goodness execution and... jeez. At the same time, it's nice to see Mary's as peppy as ever.

He's a little afraid for her resilience if this keeps on going, but... kids are tough. He'll just have to do his best to go along with her so she can, uh, live(?) her best life while they all careen along the rollercoaster of death.]

Hello. Yes, I'm here.

[At this point he's just accepted that 'oversized cat' is the easiest definition for everyone present. Honestly, if it doesn't change, it'll be because he's doing it right.]

[concertmaster]

[he decides to just make himself at home and goes to jump on the bed. it's not like the cat uses it, right. right???]

With other people? I usually got into some wild-ass shenanigans that taught me nothing but did make all the adults around that much closer to a nervous breakdown.

[...so, y'know, maybe don't do that]

[withsadness]

Shenanigans sound like a lot of fun!

[Mary climbs up onto her bed as well and claps her hands together.]

I bet you have all kinds of great stories.

[She's just going to keep humoring his fast and free-wheeling lifestyle. Death style? Whatever. Sorry, Lenka.]

[soylentprotag]

[The cat uses the bed at most as a headrest and otherwise, really, Mary has the reign of the room while he just curls patiently around the beds the way he does now. There's probably cat hair everywhere, but you know what. You'll learn to accept that as a fact of life.

At least he's not shedding weird monster cells in alarming ways here.]

That does sound like a story. Or a few stories.

[He's a little wary of Max, naturally, but he can't be too wary of an apparent ten-year-old. And Lenka has zero room to talk about free-wheeling deathstyles, so. Regale them, dude.]

[concertmaster]

[he leans back, casual]

Eh, a couple. Have you ever constructed an entire death trap only to hit the pet mascot instead of your intended target? I don't recommend it. Mostly because the guy didn't die or get horribly maimed, but also because now I can't look at squirrels without getting flashbacks.