After Lucas gives Willy a few comforting pats, he holds his arms outstretched before him.

“Here, buddy, lemme pick ya up. It’s gonna be tight in here, don’t want no one steppin’ on ya.” Once Lucas makes this offer, Willy barks agreeably and climbs up Lucas’s chest, resting his front paws over Lucas’s shoulder, with his snoot between them, holding the chew toys dangling over Lucas’s back.

After Lucas takes a moment to melt a little, he makes sure his left forearm is securely under Willy’s rump. He slowly stands back up again, ensuring the awkward long boi is staying comfortably in place, which he is.

As the rest of the group files into the elevator, everyone makes a point of patting Willy on the head at least once.

After waiting a bit, Lucas finally turns around to face the door again, surprised to see Mikah standing in front of the floor button panel.

‘Eh? I figured you’d wanna get away ASAP, and would take the other elevator?’

Mikah chuckles as he hits the buttons for 11 and 13, then starts to turn to face Lucas. While turning, he notices a service bot hurrying in their direction, carrying something, so he presses the hold elevator button for it.

“What’s one more minute at this point? With how busy the service bots are, I might as well leave the other elevator free for their antics.” While Mikah answers Lucas’s thought, the bot has reached a reasonable discourse range.

“Apologies for the delay. 23 instructed us to ensure that all of your pockets were emptied and to wash your clothing. Here are your personal belongings. Also, the previously requested masks, as well.” Once the service bot has finished saying this, it is close enough to hold out a small box with two small bins stacked on top of it, which Miss Masher accepts.

The top bin has… quite a few things in it. A phone, a half dozen individually wrapped cherry lozenges, a sealed tissue packet, a mini water bottle, a protein supplemented peanut butter granola bar, and a clear resealable bag containing the majority of the contents of a first aid kit. It turns out that Miss Masher’s cargo pockets were actively being put to use.

Miss Calculated sighs after seeing the contents of the bin, reaching over with her free hand to fish out Miss Masher’s phone, then tucking it into the front pocket of Miss Masher’s overalls.

“At least keep that with you, in case something happens. I’ll take the rest, for now. Thank you for the delivery, we’ll thank 23 for its considerations in person, shortly.” Miss Calculated has an exasperated tone as she chides Miss Masher, then levels out with a more polite, professional, tone when addressing the bot.

“Of course.” The service bot bows slightly after saying this, then taps the downward call button for the elevator before walking away. A short distance away, another bot is walking over with two nested laundry baskets; the top one has a black sleeve hanging out, and the bottom one has a bit of green camo visible through the holes in the sides of the basket.

As the bot leaves, Mikah taps the close doors button, then leans against the sidewall of the elevator, looking inward at the rest of the group.

Miss Masher shifts the stack she is carrying into a one-handed hold, then picks up the top bin and unceremoniously dumps it into the box Miss Calculated is carrying. Sliding the empty bin to the bottom of the stack, she reveals a notably emptier in comparison bin; containing only a cell phone, a keyfob, and a bag of marbles.

Lucas chuckles as he inches over to claim the contents, grabbing them one at a time with his free right hand and tucking them into his overall’s front pouch, taking care not to disturb Willy while doing so.

“Eheh, whoops. Guess I was a bit too eager to prove I won. Also, how the hell did we all forget about the masks, isn’t that like, the whole reason we all grouped up here?” When Lucas is done saying this, Miss Chievous snorts derisively.

“Did you already forget that the bot with the masks was the same one with your clothes? We all assumed you, or Marsha, would have them. In retrospect, that was a failing on our part.” After Miss Chievous admonishes Lucas, there’s a mix of chuckles when he glares at her.

“Well we have them now, and that’s what’s important, yeah? Oh, someone help Willy put his on.” Lucas, somehow, manages to resist taking the bait, then turns around once more so Willy is facing the center of the elevator again.

As both Miss Masher and Miss Calculated have their hands full, Mark and Mikah are leaning against opposite walls, and Jonathan is busy trying to fuse his body into one of the rear corners of the elevator, Miss Chievous manages to claim the doggo-related task without much effort required.

Miss Masher moves Lucas’s now-empty bin to the bottom of the stack, exposing the box of masks. They’re in a mix of different colors and patterns, and the topmost one is, conveniently, Willy’s.

It is the cut-off bottom portion of a late white cotton sock with a grey patch reinforcing the toe. There’s a strip of cloth sewn on to hold it securely wrapped around his head, under his ears, with a button on the back to close it, all measured out to comfortably fit his dimensions.

As Miss Chievous reaches over to take Willy’s toys from him, Miss Calculated speaks up.

“I might as well hold onto those, as well. I’ll have enough to keep me busy for a while, so we can worry about which one to unstitch for inspection later.” When Miss Calculated completes her offer, Willy makes a muffled bark of consent and Miss Chievous claims the toys, dumping them into the box in Miss Calculated’s arms.

When Miss Chievous picks up the mask, she can’t resist checking it out a bit.

“Oh, it’s doubled up! ...Not like they had anything better to do with the other sock from the pair, huh?” Once Miss Chievous’s inspection is complete, she slips it over Willy’s snoot, wiggles it around a bit to make sure it’s in place, then buttons up the back. Tugging on it once more to ensure it’s secure, she lets go.

Lucas tries to get a look at it, but all he can really see is the back and some of the side of Willy’s head.

“Ya good, buddy?” As soon as Lucas finishes asking, Willy lifts his head and makes a triumphant bark, now muffled in a new and exciting way.

Of course, everyone laughs, thanks to the goofy gangly good boi.

-----

Lucas’s total kills: 7

Lucas’s total deaths: 11

Lucas’s total assists: 1

Lucas’s current GDV: 17.37 (+.01 +.01 = +.02 net change)

Lucas’s fame level: 6.0* (Local fame is completely maxed, he’s creeping up on minor celebrity status even on a global scale. Thanks, internet.)

Lucas's hero suspicion level: 2.0*

Jonathan’s total kills: 7

Jonathan’s total deaths: 2

Jonathan’s current GDV: 6.06

Jonathan's fame level: 4.0* (Local fame is near-max, but everyone thinks of him via his affiliation with Lucas, and not often just for him, alone.)

Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 2.5*

Willy's fame level: 4.5* (With how popular he’s become, it’s only a matter of time before people start realizing just how smart he is.)

Mr. Quacks’s fame level: 5.0* (His local and global fame are nearly even, he’s a full-blown internet sensation.)

Supervillain social circle size: 15

-----

Little character theater:

Jonathan, cowering in the corner, curiously glancing into the cloth mask container: Oh! I want the Mr. Quacks one!

Willy, snoot still aimed upward, playfully attempting to bite at any loose fabric of the mask: Arf!

Lucas, simultaneously happy to be holding Willy, but also disappointed he can’t see how cute he is being: Quick, someone record him for me!

427, amused by Willy’s antics, but lacking any methodology of visually documenting it for Lucas: [Well, I guess his mood improved, at least.]

Author, grinning: Do yourself a favor and look up pictures of dogs with socks on their noses. There aren’t as many as I had hoped, but they’re still gold. We don’t deserve dogs.

Mr. Quacks, in the box of masks, fiercely defending the rubber ducky print one for Jonathan: Quack!