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

[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."