Jo

May 23, 2021, 4 p.m.

[TAG: Nando]A Directive to Detective

Jo had the flyer clutched carefully in one hand, yanking Nando along by his arm with her other, explaining where they were going while they went. It wasn’t every day that a natural step forward to their monster hunting presented itself so clearly, but when Jo had seen the ad in the school’s newspaper, epiphany has struck.

Since their first fateful (she had come to call it fateful, despite her derision for all types of prophecy) encounter, they’d struck out on their own as a sort of cryptid hunting duo, searching the school for wrongs to right (Nando’s description) and mysteries to uncover and profit from (her own). So far, their efforts hadn’t amounted to much, but she’d learned a lot about the school and its grounds. Nando had even shown her around the castle’s secret tunnels—that alone had been worth the hours they had spent trying to find the source of the skittering in the tunnels that was definitely too large to be a rat but too small to be a giant rat. Nando had thought they were looking for some kind of ghost, but Jo knew it was only a matter of time until they found some kind of one-of-a-kind rare magical creature that would bring the U.S. based Beastlys back into the main family’s interest.

“We’re plucky! We’re inquisitive!” Jo said valiantly, turning a sharp corner and plunging ahead fearlessly. It wasn’t difficult to do so in a hallway in the middle of the day, but the ease of a task never stopped her from pursuing it. “You’ve got enough of a thirst for justice for the both of us!”

Pero, where are we going?” Nando asked, nearly tripping as they rounded another corner. “Jo—”

“I only have one question for you, Fernando,” Jo said, finally stopping just short of their destination. Nando nearly bumped into her, but with a neat flick of her wand, he stopped just short. If the writer’s internet hadn’t been acting up at precisely this moment, she might even have cast a specific spell. But alas, it was, and therefore, she did not. “On a scale of one to ten…how partial are you to trench coats?”

“Hard ten and I’m insulted you asked,” he said.

She nodded. They wouldn’t be friends if he had taken it any other way.

“I think I’ve found the next natural step on our journey to being the greatest hunters this school has ever seen,” Jo said importantly, hand turning the doorknob as she prepared to dramatically burst it open.

“Dios mio, if this is another magical scarf tries to strangle us situation I’m not saving us—”

“Then choke on your unfulfilled aspirations as you slip back into the bowels of mundanity,” Jo said, pushing the door open.

Carajo, Josephina, did you write that last night—”

“Or…” she gestured grandly at the contents of the room, “follow me in exploring depths darker than the blackest pits of the most damned hells…”

Nando audibly rolled his eyes.

“…by joining Detective Club!”

A bowl of (likely poisoned) popcorn sat innocently on a vacant table. Each chair (rigged with boobytraps?) was suspiciously empty, like the other members were daring them to continue forward despite the unknowns assailing them from all directions. She strongly suspected the box of old clothes in the corner was all that was left for those whose jib hadn’t been properly cut. If it was a test of mettle, Jo wasn’t about to do anything other than pass with flying colors and pull Nando along with her if she could. If not, it had been nothing short of an honor to work with this sweaty, energetic child.

“Psst, over here” a voice said, and both Jo and Nando whipped around to face the source, “you here for the detective club?”

Jo approved of the atmosphere: dark, dreary, mysterious. This was the kind of scene she had been looking for. With a crooked smile, she nodded, a question about what arcane secrets waiting to be discovered were hiding amongst the student population at RMI ready to leave her lips—

Lumos,” Nando said; the room lit up. The figure in the corner lit up with it, and Jo got her first clear look at him: an older student wearing sunglasses over a pair of regular glasses, an ill fitted trench coat with a gilded collar, and a baby in the least fashionable green hat Jo had ever seen. Her enthusiasm for Detective Club dropped like a rock tossed in a lake.

“Hey Eugene,” Nando said, eyeballing the baby like one might a newly discovered rat family happily procreating in one’s basement, “why did you bring the baby to Detective Club?”

OOC: Nando’s actions/dialogue were approved by his author.

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GHOSTBUSTERS - Eugene Hardie || May 23