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Maximilian “Maxi” Vincent Morvant

(The Reaper)

(Rarae Aves’s slasher/necromancer OC)

(art commissioned from @/roachcult on tumblr)

“I promise you’re in good hands with me; let’s get acquainted and figure out just what it is you’re thinkin’… in terms of your memorial, of course.”

[Previously, before Volume I…]

age: 39 (9/9/1982, virgo if he believed in astrology. he has bigger things to worry about.)

birthplace: greymoon, calcascieu parish, louisiana usa

height: 5’11’

current location: usually morvant mortuary of greymoon, louisiana, or the cemetery nearby. (but have you checked under your bed this evening?)

favorite book: other voices, other rooms - truman capote

(what he thinks his walk-on music would be: funeral march - 2WEI

what it actually would be: creature of the night - air traffic controller.

fc: daniel brühl in glasses and a suit. I know what I like.)

hobbies: while running the Mortuary and the House tend to keep him pretty busy not to mention procuring the flesh and blood necessary to keep the House tethered to They Who Provide, he does tend to enjoy a few different things in his spare time. Maxi’s a connoisseur of horror movies, good and bad, and will happily talk your ear off about the accuracy of the gore/wound sfx - though he’s also a sucker for romcoms when the mood strikes. He occasionally can be caught playing video games (especially if you challenge him to one), collects rare books, and has been known to play the piano semi-passably at two or three in the morning after a few drinks. He loves going to New Orleans for concerts, live theater, and museums, and stays the hell away from Baton Rouge on game weekends. He’s also a cheerful walking encyclopedia of death and funerary practices throughout history, including various plagues and epidemics that swept through Louisiana over the centuries. He loves animals (once having dreamed of being a vet before Death ruled his world so completely), especially his beloved reanimated cat Magnolia, and can often be seen leaving appropriate snacks out for the graveyard critters when he’s restoring older tombstones and mausoleums in the cemetery next door.

You, though, are what he adores above all.

occupation: funeral director/mortician at aforementioned mortuary (the latest in a long line of a family business of death care workers.) also a serial killer/necromancer, again the latest in the long line of a family tradition.

"What can I say? It grew on me, after a while.” He smiles, and it’s sweet, unassuming (but there’s still something too dark about those eyes of his - a brown so deep, it teeters nearly into burgundy). “It might not be... what I had in mind for myself, originally,” he says, and his eyes fall to his perfectly shined shoes. “But it’s fulfillin’, gettin’ to help take care of people on their worst days. Give them the rest the deserve. We don’t talk about that nearly enough in this country, honestly, and we can trace that back to when we started phasin’ out home funerals; funnily enough--” He pauses, and laughs - a particular half giggle, half snort. It’s a nice sound (though there’s something under it, something that feels like it could tip into a mad cackle under the right circumstances). “But look at me, goin’ on. I’m sorry, I tend to do that about my line of work.” His eyes flicker back to you behind his glasses (and the focus is a little too keen, too watchful to be only polite interest). “Tell me about what you’re lookin’ for.”

the present, in a way:

Maxi has made peace, more or less, with everything that’s gotten him to his point. After a stint of pursuing the title of his generation’s head necromancer for himself for a few years once he’d finally put his father down for good, he quickly found that power and control over the forces that had made him miserable his whole life didn’t take the fear away, or make him feel any further fulfilled. He’d quietly resigned himself to a life tending Greymoon’s dead as his family had done for generations, and trying to help their more wayward souls find a bit of respite as well as offering its nastier citizens a more fitting purpose as offerings for They Who Provide. He’d consoled himself with the notion of a life alone, contented with his purpose in his community even if they still avoided the strange boy who grew up Death’s willing pupil after all these years.

And then you showed up, and he fell hopelessly head over heels before he had any idea what was happening. It was the first time in his entire life he felt like

Now you’ve left a Mark on him so deep, it’s stained his very soul in the best way, and he’s left his on you in turn. He’s never been happier, but there are more than a few members of They Who Provide and They Who Decide who are less than thrilled of the heir apparent to the Morvant’s seat abdicating from his eligibility in the name of keeping you alive. So long as he has You, the beloved Final to his Reaper, he’s positive there’s no curse the two of you can’t face and come through together, vengeful crossroad demons be damned... again.

...Right?

favorite snippets outside the main arc:

Maxi dealing with his trans partner’s transphobic parents

Maxi and the hypothetical elementary school Mortuary field trip

Maxi going a bit over the top for a romantic Halloween

The Morvants and an S/O with depression

The Morvants and an S/O with anxiety

The Garter Post

Maxi sleeping hcs

Maxi secretly adores musicals

(Relevant playlists, other stories, and chapters in the overall continuity can be found on the main masterlist here.

all his usual tags are included in this post.)

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