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

[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?"