Bizzyboys H.Q.

[carefulinspekshun]

The Bizzyboy's headquarters is, in truth, just Hector's house, but it's more than the apartment he'd run it out of before.

The main room of the home has been pulled apart from what was once a living room to a "base of operations," with a couple desks, a few filing cabinets, and a phone. Cabinets stand tall, filled with cluttered supplies, and most of the desks are presently empty, save for two: a particularly orderly one, and another covered in notes, doodles, and garbage. Dividing screens separate what appear to be the more resided in parts of the home, and they appear, at a glance, to be cluttered with the furniture that was moved out of the "main office."

Upon entering, a door chimes, from where a little bell was jury-rigged just above the edge. It doesn't take long for the leader of the Bizzyboys (or his first in command) to make an appearance from somewhere inside!

(Open to visits, calls, or any other manners of run-in!)

Comments

CURRENT CASES

[carefulinspekshun]

Upon a cork board hanging on the wall, there are scraps of paper hanging, detailing the Bizzyboys' currently ongoing projects and their assignments as follows:

(None yet, but soon!)

Intie-views

[staybizzy]

So you want to be a Bizzyboy, do ya?

Well drop on by! Capochin is always in the office when he's not in the field. Though it's easier if you call ahead to make sure he's got time. He is, after all, very Bizzy.

At your appointed time, he waves you back to the desk he's set up. He's short, and his blue-green face is only just fully visible from behind the normal-human-sized wooden desk. His tail curls above him like a periscope. "Sit, sit. You want a coffee or anythin' before we get started?" His thick and cartoonish Brooklyn accent makes it even harder to take him seriously. He sounds gruff and nasally, like an animated mafioso. His silly little paws grip the side of the desk. He looks like a stuffed animal, with the energy of a disgruntled Italian uncle.

This is going to be a very interesting job.

Accidental Intie-view (or J Joins Da Bizzyboys)

[theydrewfirstblood]

He's been by before, he's met Hector, and he's just sticking his head in to say hi...

The offer comes from the desk before he can say anything, and before John Rambo knows it he's sitting across from a tiny blue-green primate-esque person who sounds like a distant uncle on his father's side he just barely remembers. He's pretty sure he's not even remembering his mobster accent right, he was four and time distorts memories.

He's gonna be hard pressed not to try and pick the little critter up and squish him like a plushie.

"Uh...sure? I mean--coffee sounds good." John replies. "Listen, I'm--"

[staybizzy]

Capochin hops right back up, trotting over to where a metal carafe is keeping some coffee from the morning warm, pouring John a cup. "Don't worry if you ain't got a resume or nothin', we ain't so formal," Capo assures him, cutting of what he assumes to be nervous rambling.

He returns with the cup, passing it over. "So! What's your name, kid?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

"John." he replies, distracted by accepting the coffee. "But I should..."

He pauses, sipping the coffee.

"...I should--"

John blinks, stares down at his cup, and takes another sip. It's not great coffee by general standards, but it's great by his. Look, Army joe wrecked his taste buds.

He looks back up at the other guy, visibly surprised, his protests momentarily forgotten.

"This is fucking amazing coffee." he huffs with a little smile, going back for a third sip. And a fourth.

...yeah, this guy's not his type, but if he were, John would be flirting badly for more of his coffee alone...

[staybizzy]

"Hey, t'anks," Capochin replies with just a bit more brightness, pleased with himself. "And there's more where dat came from if you get the job, eh?"

He takes a seat once more, grabbing a paper. "So, what kinda gig you lookin' for? We got full time, part time, and freelance."

[theydrewfirstblood]

John looks down at his cup, back up at Capochin, then back down at his cup again...and smiles to himself.

What the hell.

"...probably freelance." he replies finally, looking back up again. "I run a ranch up in Northwest Hollow, so I'm just lookin' for a little something on the side. I've heard a little about you guys, but I'm still kinda more curious than anything, though. Duties, pay, what I can expect from the action. Looking for information before I put in my uh, formal application, know what I mean?"

[staybizzy]

"Yeah, sure, of course! Y'know, if you do good work, a location like that might make a good spot for a sentry location. Can't be too careful with dis curse business." Capochin rubs his chin thoughtfully, then waves it away.

"I'm gettin' ahead of myself. Duties are gonna be kinda mixed. We are, first and foremost, problem-solvers. What dat means is gonna depend on the day! You could be solvin' mysteries, lookin' for clues, gettin' da scoop on spooky things or whatnot. You could be helpin' folks with stuff that needs doin', like fixin' a kid's broken toy or gettin' someone's favorite pen outta da storm drain or helpin' old ladies take out garbage. We do it all! Within reason. Nobody's gonna expect ya to do stuff y'ain't comfortable with. But we do appreciate a Bizzyboy who's not afraid of a little danger. As for pay..."

Blah blah handwavey money stuff--- the wage Capochin proposes seems fair, if not a little low for now, but promises a raise once the business gets on its feet and a nice bonus.

"Sound good?"

[acceptandadapt]

Yeah, alright. She might as well be doing this.

It wasn't as though she's got a job yet, of course. She'd considered joining the Enforcers, but thinking back on how that went last time, that's... likely not a great idea, when taking everything into account. She's never had a great draw to the arts, a personal garden is enough farming for her, and nothing else that she's considered has enough of a challenge to it, as absurd as that feels. What can she say? She likes to solve a puzzle, to get the satisfaction of a problem sorted out, a mystery uncovered, one way or another.

So, when an advertisement looking for "investigators, go-getters, and problem solvers" got posted to the board, all strange spellings (and passive-aggressive placement to the other local detectives' ads) aside, she couldn't find a reason not to look into it. All this free time of hers is starting to lose its charm, anyhow.

(Besides, she's done worse, job-wise. At least it's not the Magnus Institute.)

Maybe she should've expected, from the advertisement, to be getting interviewed by a little monkey-man. It's a good thing she's had all these years not to look fazed by these sorts of instances. The call ahead of time keeps his voice from being too much of a surprise, but that voice out of this little guy is going to take some getting used to. All types of worlds out there, apparently.

"Coffee's great, thank you," Basira closes the front door behind her, moving to drop the bag off her shoulder beside the chair. "Hope I'm not running too late. The snow's made getting anywhere take longer than I've been expecting it to."

[staybizzy]

"Eh, whaddaya gonna do, weather's weather," Capochin agrees, apparently not too concerned as he pours her a coffee from the metal carafe near his desk. He slides it over, along with a dish full of sugar cubes. "Outta cream, sorry 'bout dat. Hector ain't come back with more yet."

He offers a furry hand to shake, with short, blunt claws at the ends. "Capochin Bastone. Second in command of the Bizzyboys. And you?"

[acceptandadapt]

"Basira Hussain." She shakes the hand offered to her, taking a seat. A couple sugar cubes in the coffee, and she takes it with a short nod of thanks, using it mostly to warm her hands for the time being. "Good to meet you, Mr. Bastone."

Basira looks a bit out of place here, considering she's nearly twice Capochin's height, and twice as serious at least. The mental image that lingers for a moment is hysterical, quite frankly: her standing tall over a team of little teal guys, working as part of an absurd little team with as little hesitation as she gives just about anything else in her life. Maybe after all the things she's seen, though, some workplace levity is what she needs.

"I brought a resume with me, if you need it," Basira offers, nodding slightly to where her bag sits. "The ad didn't mention it, but I thought I'd have it, just in case."

[staybizzy]

"Eh, we don't worry too much about dat, seein' as we're used to takin' rookies, down and outs, people with no job experience, people who just don't know how to write one... But I won't say no, makes my life easier."

He holds out a fuzzy hand to receive the paper in question, the other going for his own cup of coffee. He wrinkles his nose. Seems like maybe it went cold.

[acceptandadapt]

"If anything needs context on there, let me know."

After all, who knows what they have in his world? Basira doubts he'll recognize the university name, the Metropolitan Police, the couple other part-time jobs she'd taken up during uni. Considering they're willing to take people without job experience, though, she's likely over-preparing on that front.

"...I mostly worked in investigation," she thinks to add while he reads, after she's taken another sip of her own coffee. "Cases regarding unexplainable happenings and monsters, more often than not, but I've got experience with more standard sorts of reports as well. So with the problems caused by the curse, I've got some understanding of how to handle these sorts of things, if that's something you all plan to address."

[staybizzy]

Capochin just stares at her as she describes her impressive, valuable experience as if she alone isn't enough to put the Bizzyboys on the map.

"You're hired."

[acceptandadapt]

Basira pauses. It's her turn to stare back at him. She takes a few seconds to try to decide if it seems like he's joking, or if there's something shady going on here. (It doesn't seem like he's kidding, and he doesn't strike her as the type to be working for a multi-level marketing scheme. The second he asks her to buy something, though, she's out.)

"...Just like that? You don't have any... follow-up questions or anything?"

[staybizzy]

Capochin laughs incredulously. "What follow up questions would I even need ta ask? You are, without a doubt, the most uniquely and thoroughly experienced person I have ever interviewed. Passin' you up would make me a fuckin' idiot."

[acceptandadapt]

Basira lifts her hands in a short, defensive gesture, but sets her hands back into her lap. "I just thought I'd ask. Job interviews where I come from are usually more involved, but I won't complain if you've heard what you need. Don't suppose you'd mind a few of my own questions before I finish signing on, then?"

[staybizzy]

"Fire away, miss, I'm all ears."

Re: Intie-views

[when_a_grids_misaligned]

Moiré's getting sick of not having a job - holding out for an opportunity in their field, which there aren't many of on this little Victorian island, feels less worth it every week they spend being lulled to sleep by the sounds of rowdy drunk people - and the ad sounded like the kind of thing they did with their motley back in DC, except they'd get paid for it and hopefully run into fewer murderers. The 'boy' in the job title sticks in their craw a bit, they haven't been keeping up their estrogen supply from the astonishingly well-stocked local apothecary just to get called a boy all day, but there was that footnote specifically saying that all genders were welcome; if it weren't for that, they wouldn't have bothered.

The interviewer looks and sounds like a goofy little guy, but honestly he's just on the high end of the weirdness range they've seen from other changelings; their old Autumn Court monarch looked like an anthropomorphic woodland creature in a little pair of spectacles and wasn't any taller.

"Yeah, sure, coffee sounds great." They take a seat.

[staybizzy]

"Comin' right up," Capochin agrees, turning to the little metal carafe by his desk and grabbing a clean cup from the little stacking set that he's thrifted. He fills the cup before passing it over, along with a little bowl of sugar cubes. "If ya want cream, I'll hafta go get it. I don't wanna leave it out when I ain't usin' it. The sooner these folks invent almond milk, the better it'll be for everyone whose gotta share a room with me."

If the voice didn't give away Capochin's middle-agedness, certainly the TMI complaints about assorted bodily ailments must do the trick. He offers a hand to shake, covered in short teal fur like a thick peach fuzz.

"Capochin Bastone. Second in command of da Bizzyboys."

[when_a_grids_misaligned]

It occurs to Moiré that they have no idea how you milk an almond. Or what sort of equipment might be required.

"I don't need it, and it sounds like it's better if I don't put either of us through that," they say, straight-faced. They drop a few sugar cubes into the coffee. Setting it aside, they extend a hand gloved in white like a classic cartoon to shake Capochin's fuzzy one.

"Moiré Myrekrig. Formerly of the Autumn Court."

[staybizzy]

"Cool," Capochin agrees, having no clue what an Autumn Court is and having no intention of asking. He shakes their hand.

"So! I take it ya seen our ad. What interested you about da position?"

[when_a_grids_misaligned]

Augh, job interview questions. They'd almost rather have the murderers. Why is it so difficult to talk about themself without cramming their foot into their mouth?

"It sounded like an interesting job that I'd be good at. In the Court, investigation and problem solving were the main things they asked me and my friends to do." Which was as much because Moiré's motley was a bunch of nobodies who went from having no reputation to a reputation for being loose cannons and trouble magnets as for their skills, but they did have the skills. "Also I think I could do more good here than with the cops."

[staybizzy]

Considering that the original Bizzyboys were a bunch of ragtag misfits from a minority species hailing from a disenfranchised neighborhood who also had a reputation for being rowdy but helpful, Moiré's probably in the right place.

"Hey, dat's great, love meetin' folks with experience. I'm used to just hirin' any schmuck off the street n' hopin' for the best. And we love out-doin' the cops. You lookin' for full time or what?"

[when_a_grids_misaligned]

"Absolutely," Moiré says. "How many people would I be working with?"

[staybizzy]

"We're still recruitin'. Right now we got John, Basira, n' Hugo. But hopefully we'll get a few more. On a given day, you might work by yourself, with just a pahtner, or with everybody. Depends on what we need at da time," Capochin explains. "Oh, also. We got a uniform. It's just a red jacket with some yellow trim. You can wear whatever accessories or whatever ya like, you just gotta wear the jacket on the clock so people know you're one of us. Capische?"

[when_a_grids_misaligned]

None of those three are people Moiré's actually had a conversation with, but the town's small enough that they know who some of them are. Mostly Basira. There's a few different people named John and they don't think they've met anyone named Hugo. They nod; that setup's fine with them.

"It's not my colour," says Moiré, who's dressed all in black, white, and grey and technically wearing no colours at all, "but I can accept that. Especially if it's just the jacket and not a whole outfit. As uniforms go, that's pretty loose."

[staybizzy]

"Yeah, no, feel free to accessorize however ya like. We had a Bizzyboy back home who was... whatcha call it? Goth? I dunno, you young folks and your weird fashion." He waves it off. "Ain't none-a my business. So! When can ya start?"

Just Visiting (?)

[theydrewfirstblood]

...the actual...fuck?...

John sees the posted flier, the addendum with its little sketch--and he's pretty sure he's even seen one of these little guys scuttling around town. He wasn't sure, but...this clinches it.

He can't think about it too hard or he'll start snickering--not out of disdain. Yeah, it's ridiculous, but the fact is that John appreciates ridiculous. He's fond of the absurd. He respects anything this over the top and this plain old earnest.

These fellas ain't kidding, and he just--he has to see it for himself.

He doesn't flinch at the bell, lots of shops in town have them. Looking around with keen interest, John's a little bit impressed with the setup. The whole billboard posting is kinda nuts, but someone here has a fairly level head. Maybe it's just eccentricity?...

"Hello?" he calls out, moving further into the apartment. "Anyone home?..."

[carefulinspekshun]

"Oh! Be with yew in just one second!"

The voice, upbeat in something that's a ridiculous-sounding sibling to a Bronx accent, comes from the back. The man of the house makes himself present after just a minute, wrapped up in the middle of shuffling off a new-but-already-thoroughly-stained apron to hang by the entrance to the kitchen. In spite of his slightly absurd appearance, he holds himself tall (well, as tall as he can, being fairly short) and proud, giving John a grin that practically radiates enthusiasm.

"Hey, nice to meet'cha! Yew here from the ad?" Cripes, this guy is tall. Why is everybody here so godsdamned tall? And he looks like he could break Hector in half if he tried. (They need that kind of muscle, though, honestly.) That doesn't stop him from offering a hand to shake, fuzzy and clawed but ever-confident. "I'm Hector! And who do I got tha pleasure of speakin' with today?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

...oh no, this critter is fucking adorable.

John can't help but smile at his appearance: an actual anthropomorphic little...primate of some kind. Maybe? He's lean as hell, working some opposable thumbs, and he can talk. The way he talks--John's kind of in love with it.

"Uh--yeah, sorta. I was mostly curious 'bout the whole operation." he replies, gesturing with a small glass bottle in his hand as he offers the other one to shake as he looks down at him. "Name's John Rambo, I run Baker Ranch up in Northwest Hollow. No real, uh...'case' to speak of, but I brought some dandelion syrup as a kinda housewarming gift. Besides raising animals, we do a lot of forage farming, small batch goods, stuff like that."

[carefulinspekshun]

Just checking things out? A shame, but Hector can work with that. Word's getting out already! That just means he'll have to put on his best face, make sure this guy leaves with something to talk about. (Eugh, he feels like he's on the campaign trail all over again.)

Hector shakes his hand firmly, eyeing that bottle with clear interest as it's gestured with. A housewarming gift! The people here sure are friendly.

"Huh! I didn't know yew could make syrup with dandy-lions. I learn something new every day here!" Hector takes the bottle when it's offered, turning it over a couple times in his hands, before lifting it with a grin. He almost considers taking a drink from it. Almost. "Thanks, neighbor! We're still gettin' set up, but how'z'about I give yew a little tour, get'cha up to speed?"

He's already taking a few steps back into the rest of the room by the time he asks, already gearing up to give this new face a tour. Trying to turn over a new leaf doesn't quite mean he's gotten past being exceptionally presumptuous, after all.

"We've got our base of op-her-ray-shuns all set up, of cawse, but we're still gettin' all our pieces together! It's just me n' one other fella right now, but plenty of space to grow. Before I get into too much of it, though, I gotta know! Was yewr home world much like the one we're in now, Mr. Rambo?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

"Syrup, wine, salads--you name it." John assures him. "You ever wanna try some, check out some of the shops in town that sell from Baker Ranch. Or the Oak & Iron, I paid to get a wild salad on their menu. Seasonal thing."

Fortunately, John's ex-military and doesn't take this kind of presumptuous behavior in a negative light. Give him direction, he will follow...so a tour of the place it is as he follows Hector and looks around with unabashed interest.

"This place is like something outta the past of my world." he admits. "Maybe...roughly a hundred years? Except magic and the like, we don't have that. Or gods with the kind of presence the Mothers have here."

John can't quite stop himself from smiling as he absently touches his favor from Serranai. Spring is coming, after all...he almost feels like he should do something for her. Like Cecil does Yamsgiving...

He stops short at that, remembering the flier.

"...hey, your flier. It said you worked for some gods? You investigate stuff, but...offer general help, too?"

[carefulinspekshun]

"'Course we do!" Hector's reply is upbeat as ever, hardly skipping a moment. It's easier to get back into work-talk than trying to figure out how to explain the way magic operated back at home, either, nor figure out if that's something he still has to any degree.

He has no idea what a guy like this could possibly need, but he's hoping that's a precursor to a request. Not a bad place to get started, really! Hector waves him along, to their work-board, currently sitting empty.

"We were da first-and-foremost investy-gators for the gods, but Bizzyboys always been problem-solvers at heart. Sometimes those problems just show up as mister-ees!" He explains as he walks, grabbing one of the little hand-written forms that he'd made and offering it over, allowing John a better look. "We handle anything from missin' objects, errands, jobs that need several sets o' hands, n' just about anything yew could think of! We gotsa stay bizzy, don't we? And it's like they say, y'know. Jack of all trades, master of none, but better than being master of one, right?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

The whole presentation of this Bizzyboy stuff is...pretty entertaining, but when Hector offers him the little handwritten form--pretty neat and to the point, too--and makes a point with that quote, John realizes he may have grossly underestimated this guy. And he is a guy, for as tiny as he is, he's gotta be older than he looks.

Scanning the form, he looks back up at Hector with a pleased, but vaguely surprised look on his face.

"You got a solid head on your shoulders, Hector." he decides aloud, patting his shoulder with a firm, but friendly level of force. "Guess what I'm thinking is...kind of a think tank thing? I know you're new, but have you heard much about the goddesses here yet? The Four Mothers...or paladins, for that matter? Cause I am one--I serve one of the goddesses as a kind of soldier."

[carefulinspekshun]

The pat gets a little grin out of Hector, his whole posture brightening, his tail doing its best impression of a question mark in its little delighted curl. What can he say? Apocalypse or no, caught in a ditch of self-loathing or otherwise, he's so easily fluffed up by praise. Some things simply never change!

"Never heard'a pally-dins, but goddy-soldier makes enough sense to me," Hector offers, falling thoughtful as well. Would the original Bizzyboys have counted as paladins? That's an odd thought. He shelves that for now. "I heard a lil' bit, though, and met one of 'em on the way in! Think tanks we can do, though, easy-peasy. What'cha got on the mind, pal o' mine? Lookin' to do something for the ladies in charge?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

"Yeah, kinda." John replies, huffing out a quiet little chuckle as Hector's tail curls up with such painful good cheer it's more than a little infectious. The laugh is a by-product of that contagious brightness, and it's...nice, if sad only because it strikes a strangely familiar chord in him.

"I've met Mortanne, too--couple of the others, like Kora and Celestine, but Serranai is the one I serve. She's..."

He trails off, and the way his smile turns so painfully tender? Yeah, that says a lot.

"...thing about the goddesses is that in their season, they can come to us, y'know? Walk around like people if they want to. Serranai's done so much for me, and with the waiting--a buddy of mine who's been helped by Celestine does this thing in the fall, Yamsgiving. Like a holiday I celebrate back home involving a big kinda feast to recognize our blessings and have a moment of community. Thought about doing something like that for Serranai, but...I don't even know what that would look like, or what it would be for. That's kinda where the 'think tank' thing comes in. Make any sense?"

[carefulinspekshun]

Look at the smile on this big guy's face, the little laugh there. This is going better than Hector ever could've hoped it to! He can't help but get a little sentimental about it, as well. He's heard dozens of people in God Grove plan things like that for their gods of choice, even before his own ascension... not to mention seeing firsthand just how much such a thing means to the gods.

Call him nostalgic, but between getting a first community-based gig and the type of job it is, how could he possibly say no?

"A big feast to celebrate the comin' season, all tied up in a god that's important to yew. It makes poifect sense to me!" Hector agrees, and he pulls down another one of those note-cards, snagging a pen off of a desk (it's one of Capochin's - sorry, Capo, he's certainly going to steal that) and scribbling a few things down. He prattles all while he does, however. "We got a lil' more winter to get some big plans together, but I've always been decent at net-were-king, so yew leave that all up to me! I'll get people with the cheffie type'a head on their shoulders, and maybe some other people who know what da goddesses like. Take it from me, goddy-types can be opinionated!"

A beat, and he offers a smile back up to John - this one, more tender, matching the other man's.

"But, as sumbuddy with first-hand ex-pier-ee-ants with goddy-bizzniss? Yew're gonna make her real happy, no matter how we pull dis off. I can tell ya that much."

[elvaquerito]

Godpoke is trotting merrily through town, enjoying the sights, when they pass the community billboard.

They halt, and backtrack. That all sure looks familiar, don't it?

Curious, they follow the instructions to the address on the paper, and they head inside. It's a cute set-up! They see Capochin's office currently unoccupied, but Hector's...

Well, they do what they do best when it comes to gods, both extant and former: they barge right in and stand in the doorway silently.

[carefulinspekshun]

"Doo-doot-dee-doo... aaand if weee..." A crunch, evidently the source of him not hearing the front door bell jingle, comes from a paper bag of what seems to be, ostensibly, croutons. He continues to mutter to himself, despite the mouthful of snacks muffling his idle rambling. "Schedule dis fo'w da beginning o' Abril, dat'll give ush time tew get da inn-gree-gee-ensh togedder and book out da Feshtival Green, n' teash Hugo how t'cook..."

A chanced glance up by pure circumstance has him stop in his tracks, though - one can practically hear the screeching wheels of his train of thought coming to a halt, just by looking at his face.

He scrambles to swallow roughly, bungles it, winds up coughing a bit from breathing in a few crumbs, before he clears his throat harshly, giving Godpoke a grin that can only be described as mortifyingly embarrassed. He's visibly sweating bullets.

"H-hey there, dep-yew-tee! Yew sure, uh--- know how to sneak up on a guy, don't'cha?"

A beat, and he furrows his brows. That grin doesn't fade. (It looks significantly more forced the more stressed he looks, though.)

"Wait, I didn't realize yew were in town! Did yew... just get here?"

[elvaquerito]

Godpoke nods repeatedly, and you can almost hear the slide whistle go up. They don't seem to be concerned about the crumbs literally at all.

Megapon is still in their hand, which they produce from their back. The newly acquired Bizzyboy J's voice can be heard from it when they pull the trigger. "Hey, your flier." Then they gesture around. Hopefully he picks up what they're putting down.

"Is everything okay?" asks Megapon in Valdis' voice.

[carefulinspekshun]

"Well shore! Everything's been just fine!"

His reply's just a little too bright to be convincing to someone who knows him. Probably not anyone else, either, really.

"We got da Bizzyboys started fresh, and we're makin' real good moves! I been turnin' over a new leaf!" He presses a hand to his chest to accentuate the honesty of the fact. "I mean, 'course, we died, but it's--- y'know, diff-fur-rent here, right? And there's da curse to deal with, but what town don't got its problems?"

He doesn't exactly sound convinced of the last part.

"Come on in, though, have a seat! I owe yew some time to chat, considerin' the... everything from bee-four. Sowwy about that, by da way."

[elvaquerito]

Yeah okay he's definitely stressed. Wonder why. This new Bizzyboy office seems pretty quaint and appears to be doing okay. Maybe it's them?

Godpoke comes and takes a seat on the other side of the desk, setting Megapon in their lap and folding their hands on top of it. They look attentive, like a good student.

[carefulinspekshun]

Look at the two of them! Sitting like two friends, and definitely not the guy who manipulated this tourist into dragging on senseless tasks to try to start the apocalypse. They're doing great! (Right?)

"Sooo, Pokey, how's da town been treatin' yew? Good? Folks are real friendly around here, aren't they?" Hector prattles aimlessly, still prone to so many questions without allowing time for answers. He's getting better about that, at least, but it's a process. "Say, uh... there's no hard feelings, are there? I understand if there are! But, yew know, it's--- nice to see a fam-eel-liar face, and if I can make everything up to yew, yew know I'll shore try!"

[elvaquerito]

Godpoke waves it off with a broad gesture of dismissal, making a soft "pfffft." Then they give a thumbs up, body language cheerful. All good.

They point at the bag of croutons.

[carefulinspekshun]

Hector blinks, looks down at the bag, and then back up to Godpoke.

Wordlessly, he hands over the croutons. If that's what it takes to patch things up after the end of the world, then who is he to complain?

[elvaquerito]

Nice.

They dig their little fuzzy hand into the bag, grab a few, and then shove the croutons up under their bandana. They crunch really loudly.

Hell yeah.

[carefulinspekshun]

"...Dey're real good, huh? I love a good crunchy lil' snack."

Hector clears his throat a little, before straightening his papers, grinning awkwardly once more. "Well, it's nice to know we ain't got any trouble between us! Yew're a real good newdle, ya know? And, well..."

He almost thinks better of it, but alas, old habits die hard.

"Are yew lookin' for work?" A beat, and a quick correction. "Real work this time! Good, honest jobs, helpin' around the whole town! Yew did so good last time, and I'm shore folks here already love ya. Yew're charming!"

[elvaquerito]

They pat his arm and shake their head. No, they've already got a job. From their breast pocket, they produce an employee badge for the Pumpkin Hollow Postal Service. "Kelaiah 'Pokey' Voxx - Courier," says the badge. But thank you for the offer, Hector!

In fact, they take a moment to look around the office, then flash another thumbs up. This is a nice place! Seems like he's doing well.

[carefulinspekshun]

"Oh! Mail carryin' again, are ya? Dat makes sense! Yew're real good at bringing' messages around," he remarks, lifting his brows with interest.

There's no hard feelings, aside from, perhaps, a bit of unfounded jealousy. He's got the self-awareness that it's irrational now, at least! It's a good first step.

"Well, yew gonna stop by n' visit my Boys now n' again? I got a decent few of 'em so far, and I bet they'll like ya!" Hector cracks a little grin their way. "I bet J's really gonna like yew, since he's got da whole ranch thing goin' on, and yew got yewr cowboy schtick, but I think yew'll get on wif' everybody. Oh! Have yew run into Capo yet, by da way? He's here, too!"

[elvaquerito]

Another thumbs up. Of course they're going to visit! They're here already, aren't they?

At the mention of Capo, they nod again, then--- WOAH hey! That's a ring! A really cute one, too! They point to it excitedly and drum the desk with their hands.

[carefulinspekshun]

It takes just a glance down to see what's got Godpoke all worked up, and Hector can't help the grin that rises to his face, equal parts pleased and amused with how excited about it they are.

"Oh, this? New dev-elephant in life 'round here!" He scrunches his nose with delight, and leans in, as if sharing a secret. "Would yew bee-leaf that, after I got all settlied in here, I went n' got myself engaged? Dunno when da wedding is, but yew'll be gettin' an invite once I know!"

[elvaquerito]

Pokey holds out their hands to take his, if he'll give it. Let them see that rock!!!

[carefulinspekshun]

Request read and granted! Hector offers his hand out gladly. "He really knows how to pick 'em, don't he? Real cute patterns, poifect colors n' everything. He won't admit that he's got great taste!"

[elvaquerito]

They spend a moment admiring, letting out an actual vocalization as they coo softly at how cute the little hearts are. Then Hector starts talking about a "he" and Pokey is reinvigorated, scrambling for their bag so hurriedly that they fumble at opening it a few times before they slap their notepad on the desk. They scribble in it with a pen, scratching MASSIVE excited letters.

CAPO????

[carefulinspekshun]

Hector can't help but bark a laugh out their hurry, tipping his head to the side to peek past their hand as they write. That grin doesn't wipe off his face when they finish, even as he perches his chin playfully against his hand, and his elbow against the table.

"Well, of cawse, who else?"

[elvaquerito]

Who else indeed, but still! Pokey puts pen to page again, scribbling some more.

YAY LOVE WINS

[carefulinspekshun]

A snort, and Hector falls into a warm peal of laughter, his tongue poking out from his teeth, the playfulness melting into sheer joy, unlike anything he'd ever managed to wear in any of his time as Inspekta, both in the time Godpoke knew him and well before.

"Shore does! Only took, what, over thirty years? Better late den never!" He jokes, tipping his head to the side playfully. "What, were yew rootin' for us, yew silly lil' thing?"

[elvaquerito]

Aww. That's actually super sweet. Godpoke is kind of softened by the fact that they could make him smile like that.

They nod at the question, and keep writing.

yeah of course i was he loves u lots. he came back for you at the end. it was so sweet. he called u cherie pie

[carefulinspekshun]

"I'm real lucky that he came back for me, even if it ended for all o' us, like... well. Yew know." A beat, and he glances over those last few words again. Hector looks baffled, perplexed, and undeniably charmed by the idea. "Wh--- wait, he did? When did he call me dat?"

Cripes, was Capo doing that while he was fighting with them to stall for time? How long had he been calling him that? (Gods, that's so cute. He's going to have to kiss him silly the next time he sees him, that's for sure.)

[elvaquerito]

when he was talkin to the inspektabot outside buzzhuzz. very gay

Hector's not wrong, it was an adorable nickname.

[carefulinspekshun]

"Talkin' to my old ma-sheens? Oh, I'm gonna have to ask him about all dat."

Picking on him, scheduled. Sorry, Capo, that's just how your evening's going to go now.

"Maybe the three o' us could have dinny together sometime soon! He's a real good cook, ya know. And I been learnin' a liddle but, mys'elf! It'll be nice tew catchy-up wifout all da mess tangled into it, right?"

(Well, mess that he's making everyone else's problem, at least. He's still picking out the pieces of that on his own. It's a process.)

[elvaquerito]

Godpoke nods, bouncing a little, pleased with the idea, then writes once more.

proud of u

[carefulinspekshun]

Oh. That catches Hector off guard, in a way that leaves him skimming the words a second time. In his better years, it wasn't as though he had a shortage of appreciation given his way, kind words, enthusiasm, praise of so many different varieties one could think of...

But when was the last time someone had told him they were proud of him?

Holding that close to his heart, his smile softens considerably, and it's a battle not to get emotional. Keep it together, c'mon, you're pushing 60, don't go getting weepy because somebody said something nice. (The battle is going rapidly further downhill with every passing moment.) "Thanks, Pokey. Yew're a real good egg, yew know that?"

[elvaquerito]

With a tentative opening of their arms, Godpoke offers Hector a hug.

He seems like maybe he needs one.

[carefulinspekshun]

There's a moment of hesitation and uncertainty--- after all, he hasn't exactly allowed himself much closeness with anyone outside of Capochin in well over a decade, now--- but with some tentativeness that matches Godpoke's own, he meets that hug.

"Awright, ya sent-ee-mental thing, yew can have a hug," he jokes, taking the edge of his own sheepishness off with playfulness. "I'm glad ya stopped by, Pokey."

"job interview" | time is soup, generally post-Merrymeet

[shaboingboingtime]

Since Alexei is staying in this place, and Capo's here, and so are some of the guys, and they're bringing back the Bizzyboys...

This will be fun. Alexei is already looking forward to it. Cap's still so upset about everything (and he keeps muttering that nickname to himself, Lex, he kinda likes it and how fuzzy it makes him feel) so making a point of coming in for a job intyview seems like a nice way to make sure he knows Alexei isn't upset, and that they can start over and still be like they used to be!

He even moseyed on over to J's place for a stack of shaboingboings. A real nice lady at the inn lets him use the kitchen, so when he gets to the house he's got a basket filled with fresh grilled hot dogs dripping with onions, sweet relish, and even a jar of mustard a real big fella in the kitchen slips him when he finds out Alexei knows J.

Knocking would be proper for a real life job interview, but old habits die hard: Alexei tries the door, lets himself in, and without thinking starts nosing around the house for signs of Capochin.

[carefulinspekshun]

When Alexei enters the home, a bell jingles, and footsteps in a side-room stop for a mere beat. Music plays from an old gramophone, a tune of lazy-yet-chipper brass filling the air of the "office" area of the headquarters. When the voice calls out from the office, it isn't Capochin's, and the footsteps, though not moving to the door, are too heavy to be his, anyhow.

"Ooooone second, I'll be right wif yew!"

Another step, then two, then three. Humming is only interrupted by occasional, good-natured mumbling to himself. It sounds like he's organizing papers, if the shuffling is anything to go off of.

[shaboingboingtime]

Alexei's face lights up when he hears Hector's voice--blessedly familiar and still weirdly new. It's been so long since he's gotten to talk to him like they used to when he was younger, so long since he's really gotten to talk to him at all! Sure, he likes his burgies better than his shaboingboings, but Alexei's been working on a project that could, quite possibly, revolutionize both as the world knows them...

Hastily, he sets his basket down and rummages around to get them together...

...and when Hector enters the room, Alexei is standing there with two hot dogs, one in each hand, carefully wrapped in a napkin.

"Devotion burgies? Dey's for da boids." Alexei snorts, beaming with pride. "I got a couple'a friendship shaboinboings wit' relish and some good spicy mustard. Whatcha say, Heck?"

[carefulinspekshun]

At first, Hector doesn't get a good look at him, looking behind him to pull the office door shut behind him. That makes the sound of that familiar voice all that much quicker to leave him stunned for a moment, before excitement rushes in like a tide, brightening his entire demeanor. (It's practically a fight not to abandon the papers in his arms to the floor in his rush over.)

"Alexei! Wh--- when did yew--- cripes, that smells good, did yew make these?" Hector stumbles over his words with a laugh, taking one of the hotdogs offered over. "It's good to see yew, buddy! I saw some of tha other boys during the festival, but I didn't real-eyes yew stuck around! How yew been?"