“You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful... something not everybody knows how to love.”// No more people please // OcxOc

Kapnos seemed more disappointed by Ender's answer than sympathetic to his grief, a frustrated grimace contorting their features. "Uh huh. Sucks, but probably for the best. Purgatory is not a place you want to make friends in."

It seemed to dawn on Kapnos that their mood was reflected on their features. They turned their head away, but it wouldn't do them much good now.

"Hah. Forgot that I've got a face to show how I feel," they snickered, but it lacked the usual snarky tone. "It's not important. Just… good to know that people who get stuck down there aren't all alone."

Kapnos waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, don't get too soft on me, eyeboy. After a couple thousand years, you get used to it."

They tilted their head so the gleam of their eyes was just barely visible, a crooked smile twisting their features. "Besides, if I'd wanted anything to happen to him, it would've happened a long time ago. I'm just on a contract. Keep in mind that he contacted me first, not the other way around."

Kapnos averted their eyes once more.

"Just… remember that he's mortal. All humans are. And they don't abide by the same laws of reality that you and I do. They're fragile."

They grinned wearily.

"And forgetting that fragility…"

Their voice faltered, and they shook their head.

"Yeah, nevermind. All things considered, he's my human, and I'm looking after him. No angel is getting close to him until they have my approval, and you've still got a ways to go, y'hear?"

Kapnos didn't respond, still staring off into the distance.

"… Alright, Al. Take it back."

A few seconds passed, and Pogo broke into a coughing fit, unable to bear the tightness in his throat and water in his eyes.

"Goodness gracious, that got them all worked up, huh?"

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Wow. That's almost impressive."

Pogo shook his head. "Not with me, no. I'm fine. Sometimes they leave my body different than the way it was before I left, so I gotta…" he cleared his throat, "… just gotta get used to it again."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeesh."

Pogo shrugged. "It's just how it is. Uhm… what did you want to do, if anything?"

"Well…"

Pogo pursed his lips. He didn't have many ideas of his own.

"We could always go back to the woods," he suggested. "I wouldn't want to stay there too long, them being radioactive and all, but… if the city's too much…"

Pogo averted his gaze, again unsure of what to do. He pulled out his phone to glance at the time.

9:34 AM. He was supposed to have been at work around 8:30. His coworkers were probably worried about him.

"Well… listen, I've gotta make a quick phonecall," he said, standing up from the couch. "Maybe during that time, you can figure out what we can do..?"

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "Unless… this is a bit wild, but I could probably bring you to work with me?"

"My job isn't really anything special. I'm just a performer," he replied. "We're all performers, each with our own little niche. And the best part is," he added, seemingly having remembered the second he brought it up, "my coworkers are in on my uh, secret. They wouldn't be surprised by you. It might be safe for you if you, uh, lose yourself a little bit."

Pogo nodded. "I do need to get paid this week, haha…"

He dialed a number and hit call, holding the phone to his ear and tapping his foot impatiently. Then, he perked up.

"Oh! Molly, is that you? Yeah, this is Al. Mhm. Yeah, yeah, I'm alright, just… yesterday was interesting, haha. Listen, I, uh, I can still make it to work today, yeah, but…"

He cast a glance in Ender's direction.

"Is it fine if I bring someone with me? I-It's a real long story. No, he's not an escaped convict. You remember that deal I made? Yeah, this is somewhere along those lines. He needs somewhere safe, a-and I gotta get to work, so…"

He tensed, then relaxed, his features softening with relief.

"Oh my God, thank you. Yeah, I-I'm on my way right now. See you there, Molly. A'ight, bye."

He hung up, shoving his phone in his pocket and turning towards Ender.

"That was my boss. She said it'd be fine to bring you to work, so we can head out now if you're ready."

Pogo made his way to his bedroom, changing out of his current clothes and reappearing in a more basic outfit — a baggy white shirt paired with equally loose black trousers. Probably best described as a work uniform. He grabbed his keys, straightening his collar a bit and rolling his shoulders.

"It's just a short walk from here, if you don't mind being out in the city again. I, uhm… don't own a car, haha."

Pogo nodded, leaving the apartment and locking the door behind him when the both of them were out of the building.

"My coworkers are good people," he murmured. "My boss, too. When I told them about my predicament, it was my boss, Molly, who gave me the idea to use them as a performance act."

He turned and met Ender's gaze, a small smile lacing his features.

"And then when the local church got the government involved, they all covered for me. We're almost like a family. The closest thing to a family I've ever had, at least. I think you'll get along just fine with them."

Pogo made his was down the street, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings as the two walked. Just as he'd mentioned before, they passed beside the park on their trail, the water now lacking in the duck department thanks to the earlier skirmish that took place.

He turned towards a gray building with windows for walls, the sign above the double doors reading "Wilted Rose Performances Inc." Inside was a receptionist's desk and a series of halls and doors, most likely leading to practice and performance rooms. Pogo entered the building, glancing back and gesturing for Ender to follow.

"Ah, there's the man!" bellowed the fellow from the receptionist's desk — a large man of stocky build and a pretty impressive beard. "Ms. Molly was worried sick about you before you called. She'd been answering all the calls here herself until she finally heard from you. Who's the friend?" he asked, turning to face Ender.

The receptionist blinked. "Ender? Quite an interesting name. But no different from our Alessandro here asking people he meets to call him by his stage name," he chuckled, his laughter deep and hearty. "Everyone's got their quirks. I'm Blake, by the way. I work the counter — greet customers and take phone calls — so any questions you want to ask, I'm your guy."

Pogo snickered, but took no offense to Blake's jabbing — he knew it was all in good fun. "Where's Molly? I'd think she'd be front and center to say hi if she was so worried."

"Oh, she'll be here shortly," replied Blake with a casual wave of his hand. "The aerial silk in Practice Room 3 snapped just a couple minutes before you got here, so she's sorting that out at the moment. Oh, and, Ender, was it? Make yourself at home. No performances today, so we'll be here for the duration of our operating hours."