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Max [+]

It felt like a taunt, like a slap in the face, or a punch in the gut, every. Single. Time.

Daisy and Max had never been friends. Not even pretend friends, like Henry and Max had been. They could have been called colleagues , coworkers at best. The last interaction they'd had -- before she'd killed him, at least -- had been halfway through that fucked up game or truth or dare, where he'd made her...no asked her about things she was still trying to forget.

She hadn't been angry at him, though. Not right away. And betrayed wasn't the right word, either. She'd never trusted him to begin with. He wasn't hot enough to flirt with, or single enough to bother. He just...was. And Daisy was okay with that.

The game -- his dare -- had changed everything. And when she'd gotten the order to kill him the next morning, she'd be lying if she said a second, just a second's worth of vindictive smugness hadn't gone through her.

Maybe that was why she was still having nightmares, or near enough, a year later. Or maybe it was just Veti.

It didn't matter. What mattered was his name, circling her mind like a shut-in sanctuary, that single syllable counted off over and over again, the most fucked up kind of rosary there was.

And now, when the others said Max, she heard whispers, taunts: not good enough. Not fast enough. Not strong enough. Your fault. You left him. You killed him. You'll kill Veti.

So, Veti's death would be on her hands, too.

So, she gave it up. For one night, for one minute, Daisy said 'fuck it' to her candy-colored 'whatever' exterior. Because she was pissed. And she was scared. And she was really, really sorry. Even if she couldn't figure out how to say it to Veti. She could say it -- in not so few words -- to the rest of the accumulated party. Yeah, even the hot ones.

Better than listening to them discuss Death like they were debating rising gas prices.

Daisy pursed her lips and waited quietly as everyone introduced themselves, name, title, species, favorite fucking color. The office party ice breaker with a nauseating twist, everyone carving out their own special little snowflakes to toss into the ring. She was sort of hoping someone would say something halfway decent, and she could maintain her cool couldn't-care-less composure.

The elf ruined that.

Daisy sighed. There was always one.

She and the mummy burst out laughing almost at the same time, though for entirely different reasons, and with the mummy, goddamn him, looking so much better while doing it.

For once, Daisy didn't really care. If the last year had taught her anything at all, it was that Reapers -- at least the teenage variety -- had feelings, too, and they sucked.

"I like this," she said appreciatively, when the mummy had finished preening. "This is good. Satire is gold right now. I say we block it, cast it, head back to the States, and get this shit up on Broadway ASAP." She looked at Veti, then, green eyes bright with malicious hostility.

"Wolfy, this goes well, we could buy you a hundred new Maxes! I was thinking for a working title...'Asking Fish How to Fly: Bullshit Jeopardy Where No One Knows What the Actual Fuck They're Talking About'?" A pause, and Daisy laughed again. "No, you're right, needs work. I'll put you on that, Vet's, okay?"

She turned to the elf, a finger on her chin, tapping imperiously, as if deep in thought.

"Now, the script...the script could use some work. Can you help us out on that front, babe? Since you've 'been known to talk to the dead' and all? You must be an expert on the topic, right? Oh, my God, how rude of me! I'd totally forgotten to introduce myself, since that's apparently a thing we're doing now."

She stepped forward with a grin that might have looked sincere if it hadn't looking so...insincere. She stuck out a hand. "Hi there. Daisy. Reaper. I've been known to give a fuck." Then she laughed again. "Ha! Just kidding! See? Rolling with the punches, this is comedy gold, guys!"

She turned away from the elf girl to lean up against the stone as Artie grew bored with the discussion and traipsed off to seek another chew toy from Veti. Daisy hardly noticed.

"See, what I'm worried about is our ability to pull any of this off without a giant. I mean, when did anything every go right for anyone without a giant, amirite? Jack and the Beanstalk, guys! Without the giant, they just woulda had a big ass vine thing in their front yard for years, and that is insurance fraud just waiting to happen."

Daisy looked finally to Atticus, which was more than she'd been able to do since he all but sentence Max to his death a year ago. There was more -- much more -- to be said. Of 'risks' posed, ramifications in life. That part made Daisy want to laugh.

Pulling a soul from the waters of Death, and he was worried about what effects on life it would have? Fucking idiot. He was afraid of the wrong side. But for people, or whatever, things like him, sometimes, it was better to show than to tell.

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