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@maxhqs
replies 01 | starters 01 | threads 05
Working on: work 8-5 M-F && plotting

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she had been so focused on taking a break for herself that she didn’t notice most things going on around her. it was a miracle that she wasn’t hit by a car on her way over there with how little she had truly been paying attention, but phoebe would never let herself get hit by a car. imagine how embarrassing that would be, plus she’d definitely sue the person for hitting her with the car. her law office would chew them up and spit them back out faster than they could say sorry. “oh shit, really? i guess i don’t really come over here very often. guess we can thank our lucky stars that we’re both out here today.” she said a bit drly, though she laughed just a bit. she definitely didn’t envy the other, being the mayor sounded.... like something phoebe would never do.
“phoebe ryan.” she replied, shaking the other’s hand with the one that didn’t have her cigarette in it. he seemed nice, maybe having the mayor on her side could play in her favor if it ever came down to it. she’d definitely keep that in her back pocket. “lived here my whole life, my famuly has lived here for... over a century. at least that’s why they’ve told everyone and the rest of the lineage. we own a bunch of property, businesses, you know that whole thing. my dad opened the lawn firm when i was younger and gave it to me when he retired.” or she forced him to retire, the lines were still a little blurred on that one. “how about you?what makes someone wake up one day and decide to be the mayor?”
With a small nod, he gave a smile, "Always a nice time when the universe aligns and lets me meet people in town. Usually, I'm stuck in an office with the same thirty or so people running around the building with me." At first, his job was nothing but making connections, but two years into serving, he was mostly stuck to paperwork and meetings with other town officials. It wasn't as exciting as he first figured it might be, having hoped for the life of a mayor to be a little more glamorous, he was slowly starting to settle into the dank reality of being a figurehead of a city. "Pleasure to meet ya, Ms. Ryan." Max offered, clasping his hand with hers and giving a firm shake. Immediately pleased with her grip, he internally decided she might be a good asset to keep in his corner, should he ever need a good lawyer.
"Oh, you got some deep roots here, huh? What's that like for you?" The question was fully authentic. He had his mom in Denver, still, but she was moving up in age and had recently opted for some assisted living. He had his fish -- but companionship out of them usually wasn't nearly fulfilling as actual friendships. Instead, he was living his best bachelor life, working, drinking, and not growing up in the ways that truly mattered. "Following in the family business and going into law? That's a mighty big undertaking for someone. You like the job as a whole?" His question partially came out of his own selfish need to know he might not be the only one going about working day-to-day hoping something will happen and he can leave early, and partly out of sheer curiosity; law seemed demanding. "I woke up a few days in a row with that feeling, actually, then I just started going to town halls." Laughing softly he shrugged, "Kinda. I just knew I was tired of doing nothing with my life, so I wanted to do something that would be fulfilling and make a difference. I could have gone back to law school, but that ship definitely sailed already. Instead, I thought working in public administration or would be the next best thing. Before I knew it, I was serving on the chamber and eventually got nominated to try my hand at running for mayor." With a small shrug, he took another drag from his cigarette and chuckled, "Two years into my term and I'm out here with some new initiatives upcoming and the town is bustling."
"I'll have to donate to make up for it." There had to be things in her closet that Caress was never going to touch again. And it was for a good cause, she told herself, much better than going to the thrift where she returned with more than she had brought to drop off. "I'm a mechanic," she announced. "So if you need any work done on your car..." she wiggled her brows. It wasn't like the shop was hard to find. She snorted. "Yeah, my whole life. Sounds like you've been here... forever too. Seems like nothing changes, you know? But that's the thing. There's always progress." That was what she heard, anyway.
The mayor? A part of Caress felt like she ought to have known that. "Right! The mayor!" She didn't know his name off the top of her head, or if she had voted for him. Politics weren't her forte. She was much more comfortable with other topics. She stepped inside and looked around. "Wow, no, this is... I mean, it's much nicer than what I was expecting! I do have to say - I haven't heard about this at all. I don't know if the word is getting out as much as you might want it to."
"Your donation would be welcome, but it's not required. More of a take what you need, leave what you don't kind of situation. No obligations. We've got plenty of people working here that haven't even donated yet" Max said with his hand waving in dismissal. The last thing he expected was for someone to just donate things at random, but it was welcome if they had the extras to be able to donate. As they gave their profession, his brows raised, rather impressed with anyone who works with their hands and does laborious work. "How long have you been working in a garage?" Immediately accepting the offer, he chuckled and nodded, "When you open? My car's due for servicing, no joke." As he listened to her, he was sure there was a level of experience with the world she had, seeming a bit more grounded already than most kids her age. "Forever, sounds about right. The funny thing about change is that you don't see it until it's already happened. Progress comes along, slowly, but surely."
"Maximiliano Ruiz, but please call me Max." Looking around the room, he sighed softly and nodded, "Yeah, we've mostly got word going around here, we plan to start posting about it on socials soon. Then it should gain some traction." Thinking for a moment, he looked over and shrugged. "Maybe once we get things moving we can do some flyers around town, I'd love to put one up in your shop, perhaps? That way we reach even more people by advertising in some businesses." He didn't figure there was any harm in suggesting some healthy promotion -- especially when it was something he didn't benefit from, only members of the community did.
max x leila ( @ofwishfulthinking) | ambrosia lounge | late evening
Darkness finally blanketing the city of Denver, Max flipped on his headlights as he drove down to the Lakeridge District. Between the high stress at work, a sick fish that is being nursed to health in a secondary tank away from his other fish, and the fact that he craved intimacy in any manner he could get it, Max headed to the Ambrosia Lounge. At first, it was harmless fun, but now it was a dark routine -- almost like it's needed in some variation for him to keep his head above water. Originally he only visited on occasion, enjoying the feel of getting out on the town again, but in a different sphere. Now, though? Now it was habitual. Now it was written off into his schedule for the weekend, at least once every weekend. It was just to blow off steam, but now he depended on it. It was the only real interaction he had through the week, even if he was paying for it and considered a patron, he craved the little touches of intimacy and conversation he could find with the girls at the lounge. On top of it all, they had real stories -- they weren't young hopefuls that hadn't experienced the real world; they were young women who have seen what the world had to offer; and he liked that.
Naivety wasn't a trait he looked for in a person; it was cute on occasion -- but definitely, not something he could put up with on a constant basis. Thus, he found himself sticking to the shadows. Naturally, though, dodging the limelight in Denver also meant he was hiding something; in particular where his funds for all this were coming from. Shaking that thought from his head, salt and pepper brown locks falling a little from their morning style, he parked. With a quiet grunt, he got out of his car, pulling his jacket closer against him as he shut the door and locked the car behind him. Not wasting any time he headed into the building, nodding at the bouncer as he entered. Making his familiar way through the lounge, he first went to the bar, requesting whiskey dry. Thumbs tapping against the top of the bar, he waited patiently, tipping the girl as she filled his glass and passed it to him. Before even taking a drink, he moved to the back to request his personal favorite dancer, "Leila, please." Was all he said as he moved to take a sip of the drink in his hand.
max x banks ( @banksrainicr) | the marketplace | early afternoon
Craving a home-cooked meal, but not being the best at making them happen -- the marketplace was the next best option. This adventure, on this particular day, he wasn't willing to tackle on his own. He'd been caught up in work all week, phone absolutely dry with not a single text checking in on him, and his social craving was through the roof. As he mentally ran through a few options, he ended up deciding on inviting someone out with him for his plans -- wanting to cover their meal and have an actual conversation, not debates and tension. Scrolling through his contacts, he landed on Banks -- and quickly realized just how long it had been since they had met up in any capacity. With that, he leaned up on the couch, and fingers slid across his phone screen, "Marketplace to catch up? My treat. Short notice, but I'm headed there now."
Without waiting for a response, Max made his way through his home, grabbing a flannel jacket and pulling it on over his shirt and jeans before making his way out to his car. His full hope was that him and Banks would be able to catch up over food -- see how Banks was doing and adjusting to being back in the world rather than behind bars. With as little as he knew about the kid, the one thing he got was the way it felt to let life slip out from under you and crumble at your feet. Having his own world fall apart when he was about Banks' age made him feel some sort of affinity for the kid. He wanted to help him out in some way, make his life a little less hard; even if he could only do so in a fraction of ways. The drive across town to The Marketplace was easy and familiar; he frequented Lakeridge as it was anyway, so of course he'd pick a place in his favorite neck of the woods. As he parked in the lot outside of the restaurant, he unbuckled his seatbelt and sat for a moment, scrolling through his phone again to check for a response from Banks.

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the back to back meetings were nearly killing phoebe. and the worst part about it? she was the one who ended up scheduling most of them. they had certain big cases they were dealing with and apparently, they all needed her supervision to do so. which was fine with her, in theory, because she’s never really been able to be a hands off ceo. maybe she had been a bit too invested in what was going on, but didn’t that make for a good manager? she would hear people complain about how her father was rarely in the office and phoebe decided she was going to do the exact opposite. and their business was thriving because of it. and a few other sketchy things she did under the table but that was between her and her closed door.
but in the middle of her back to back meetings, phoebe was able to carve out at least fifteen minutes for herself. and of course the only logical thing she could think of doing was chain smoking away from the building. at the very least, they didn’t need to see her do that. she’d let the residents of town hall get a view of that instead. not that she even cared anyways, let them see her smoke! when she makes more in 15 minutes than someone does in a month, maybe even a few months, she’s earned the right to not give a shit. so she sat down at the bench and pulled out her pack, getting a cigarette out and lighting it in one fluid motion. “eh, it’s fine. to be honest with you i didn’t even know you were over here.” she admitted with a shrug, taking a puff from her cigarette. “i own the law office, needed to take a lap and smoke. you?”
At the concept that she hadn't noticed him either, a grin hit his face -- fully recognizing and sympathizing with the feeling of being caught up in your work. When work becomes life, there's not much you can do to break out of it, so seeing someone else in a similar boat to him, he found some ease for just a moment. Once she said she owned the law firm, his brows raised and he turned a little more toward her. "You own Advantage? Kinda surprised I haven't met you sooner, but here we are." He laughed softly and held his lunch up just slightly, "Same concept, but replace lawyer with mayor." Once upon a time, in a much different life, Max wanted to be a lawyer. Wanted to help people by coming above the law and using it to the advantage of those that needed it most -- particularly around immigration, but he definitely respected the profession in all facets. Now, though, his life was entirely different, but someone similar -- still surrounded by policy and courts.
"I'm Maximiliano Ruiz," He said rather formally, his hand moving out to extend toward the woman. "Pleasure to meet you." With a small smile on his face, he looked back to his lunchbox and sighed -- loosing interest in his food almost as quickly as he gained it just moments prior to being outside. Instead, in bad habit, he pulled another cigarette out and lit it up, inhaling slowly. "How long you been in law? Give me a little history in how you got here." He tried, a habit to make conversation with anyone near him.
Maia loved her work, loved that she practically had the days to herself to do whatever she wanted. Most of the time it was sleeping in but today it was something different. She hadn't explored that much of the city itself and frankly it was a great excuse to look for the person she even came to Denver for. Maia was out for a while and decided she wanted to do what she did best, observe and people watch.
While she wasn't actually looking for anything in particular, she couldn't help but size everyone up. Old habits die hard and all that. When she saw Max start approaching but not actually seeing her, she couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't until he noticed her, visibly shocked, that she finally spoke up. "Oh you know enjoying the day and all that. Trying to see what this beautiful city has to offer. What about you?"
Blinking a few times to settle into reality rather than his own head, he was finally able to place the girl in front of him. Clearing his throat a little as he placed Maia with the Ambrosia Lounge, a hand came up to the back of his neck where he rubbed softly for a moment. "Enjoying the day downtown? I feel like it's mostly corporate around these parts," He admitted, knowing how bleak and polished downtown could feel in comparison to the rest of Denver. "I'm truly a sucker for Montebello or the University District when I'm not here... or in Lakeridge," he admitted -- knowing it was a little useless to pretend he never went around there when Maia saw him weekly.
Looking at his lunchbox, he laughed slightly and sighed, "Thought I'd leave my office for the first time this week and get some fresh air for lunch. Sometimes being cooped up in a room full of papers, books, phones, and notifications can just be overwhelming." At the thought alone, he brought a hand up, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose while he took a deep breath to space himself away from the concept of the office, yet again. He could go for another smoke -- or realistically a drink and some time to unwind, but being the middle of the day, he took what he could get. "Just tryin' to make it until Friday, really."
There were some shifts that just absolutely drained Owen and this had been one of them. He needed to run a few errands after work, knowing if he didn't do them know, there was no way he was going to do them on his day off tomorrow. But he also just needed to sit for a moment, to take a breather and shake his hectic day off of him. So with a cheap coffee in hand, Owen had plopped down on the nearest bench- watching people as they walked by. He sipped slowly on it, his eyes moving to a pacing figure just a few feet away, and it didn't take long for him to realize who it was, the mayor. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the man so Owen stayed put, working on his coffee. His eyes glancing back and forth however, just in case something might be said. And good thing he kept his eyes on the Mayor.
Owen flashed him a smile as he took a seat on the bench, missing a few words here and there as he spoke but catching the majority of it. He gave a nod of his head before he gestured towards his ear, now shaking his head- The easiest way to let someone know he couldn't hear, before he reached for his phone. It's alright, no problem at all. Ah- I just got off work at the hospital, just needed to take a moment to breathe.
Returning the smile, Max watched the man on the bench. Taking just a moment to put the signals together, he nodded in understanding. It wasn't every day he ran into someone that was part of the deaf community in Denver, but it wasn't his first go around, thankfully. Not to say that he actually knew how to sign anything other than letters and some basics, but he was still more than happy to find a means of communication that works. After all, he was someone who was supposed to understand accessibility in some form. Setting his lunch between them he grabbed his own phone and went to his notes app, quickly typing out a response and flashing the phone toward him, "Hospital? You a doctor or a nurse?"
Pulling his phone back he went to type more, always more than happy to engage in conversation and learn more about the people he actively served. "I feel the need for a breath though. Is it just me or has this whole week been absolutely wild? I feel like I can't catch a break and problems keep happening for people." With an exasperated sigh, he moved his free hand to casually snack on some of the chips from his lunchbox. "Anyway, I'm Max -- you are?"
Was Caress going to have to walk home barefoot? She hoped there wasn't glass around. It would dampen what had began as an alright day. It was certainly a shame, given that she had been looking forward to seeing the birds. A start up community closet? She cocked her head slightly to the side. Did this man work with the city? She didn't think she could do the bureaucracy personally, but whatever worked for him. Though she couldn't place him, she had to have seen him around before because there was a certain familiarity. Nodding, she removed the shoe from her foot and stood up. "Yeah, that sounds like it might be worth the effort. Then I might be able to go and see the birds after all!" she announced. "I think I have a common shoe size."
She noted the outstretched hand and gave the man a firm handshake. That was something her father always instilled in her - even more so when he found out she was going into a more male dominated field. "Caress," she said as she followed after Max inside of the building. "Twenty four years," she said with a light laugh. "And to be honest, I don't think I've been in many of these buildings before. How long have you been here?"
"Then we'll get you all sorted out and have you back on your day, yeah?" Max stated a small smile on his lips at the fact that there might be a potential solution to her problem. "Even better, let's hope that's the case and we have some good donations for ya." Noting the girl's handshake, the man gave a small chuckle, and offered, "Good grasp ya got there, you mean business -- what is it you do, Caress?" Easily navigating the building that had become a second home to him, he listened and nodded along; letting his active listening skills take root. "Is that near your whole life at this point? You surely can't be much older than that." At the question, he perked up a little and laughed. "I've been here longer than you've been alive, about thirty-five-ish years or something like that. You kinda lose track after you get so many years on ya."
Heading to the community closet, he casually moved to walk backwards, feeling comfortable enough in his environment to do so. "You've not been in these buildings, though? Better that way than you being super familiar with them. Welcome," he began, a grin on his face, "to city hall. I'm your mayor, and I'm always around to hear suggestions of what needs to be improved in the city." Finally walking over to the storage room that was being converted into the community closet, he ducked in and turned on the light. "This is a work in progress, so don't judge it too harshly right now. We've got the donations, we've been putting everything together, and we're planning on getting it rolled out in the next few weeks."
There wasn't a lot going on today, so Caress decided to take a walk. It was a nice enough day, the spring weather finally deciding to make itself known, and she was able to get out of the house. Her days off didn't usually coincide with the nicer days so she was taking full advantage of the situation. Because she had no particular plans, she decided perhaps the green would be a nice place to go and sit. She could bird watch. It wasn't that she knew anything in particular about birds, but they were pretty! That counted for something!
As she was walking, however, her sandal snapped. She cursed under her breath, resting at a bench. Playing with the straps, she wondered if she could fashion something to get further on with her walk. She could smell the nicotine wafting towards her, but she could ignored it. Until she heard a voice. She glanced up. "Hardly noticed. I'm having a bit of a fashion emergency," she said as she gestured towards her shoe.
peaking up from the lunchbox, his eyes went to their feet, brows raised. "hm, seems like a bit of a conundrum." immediately considering what he could do to help. "i don't really know how to fix shoes, but if you think you can make it back inside, we've got a start-up community closet, we might have some shoes you can fit?" it wasn't much yet, as they've only just started taking donations, but he figured they might be able to get them sorted out and on their way. "even better, it can be mutual if you can let us know what you think about the concept as a whole. let us know if it's a good step to be taking or something," he suggested.
already max began repacking up his lunch, hoping his solution was a welcome one. before he could really help himself he was standing up and had his hand outstretched, a professional habit that was difficult to break. "name's max, what about you?" feeling like he didn't need to introduce himself as mayor, he left that information out, figuring they either knew or they didn't and it didn't adjust or affect who he was. leading the way, he began the light trek back to the building and inside, "you been in denver long?" he questioned idly, a general question he often asked to people he came across.

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open to: all (@chqstarter) || location: outside of city hall || timeframe: mid-late afternoon
it was a bad habit and he knew it, but as he hurriedly made his way down the hall, a lunch box toted in one hand, the other was the culprit that patting his pants pocket for reassurance that his pack of cigarettes were where they should be. this week had been particularly intense; full of back-to-back meetings with this break away for lunch being the first time he was free all week long. he would be damned if that didn't mean walking to sit on a public bench and have a quick smoke break before eating. typically he wouldn't bother with bringing the little vice to work with him, but he had been on edge this week. too many administrative mishaps occurring the last few weeks, causing back-up and high stress in his office. spacing himself away from the city hall building reasonably well, making sure he was out of distance from their tobacco-free policy, he made a grab for the soft box in his pocket.
taking no time before one was in his mouth and lit, he gave a long drag. sighing almost happily as he exhaled for what felt to be the first time in days. "man, I really gotta give this up," he complained to himself, knowing full and well how bad it was for his health. not caring enough to make him put it out just yet, he paced the area of the bench for what he thought was just a few moments, getting in a few extra steps while burning off some lingering pressure from work. eventually, when he was flicking out the last of the cigarette, he glanced to the bench, almost jumping as he noticed it was occupied now. how long had he been checked out for? how long had they been sitting there? "i'm sorry, how rude of me, i didn't actually realize anyone else was over here." with a small breath he moved to sit on the opposite side of the bench, not thinking anything of it as he dug into his lunch box. "what brings you downtown today?" he questioned, giving a side-glace to his company.
👀 + Max, what are you most resentful for, huh? HUH?
Max's public facing self would have to say, "life happens the way it's supposed to, everything you go through builds up the person you are; nothing to resent or regret -- you just got to go with it and take the lessons as they come."
However, he holds resentment toward his father for putting an impossible amount of pressure on him, and then leaving him when he needed him most in his life. It's something he's never verbalized, but knows because Father's Day and his dad's birthday are particularly difficult days for him, even if he mostly forgets, the body keeps count and cycles him through many emotions around those times.
In truth, he also really resents himself for dropping out of law school and not becoming an immigration lawyer; but that ties into his dad's passing and tends to make him spiral in thought. His twenties were full of dumb decisions, life-lasting mistakes, and countless visitors in his bed.
Q+A with Mayor Ruiz
if you’re hearing ORDINARY WORLD by DURAN DURAN playing, you have to know MAXIMILIANO RUIZ (HE/HIM; CIS-MALE) is near by! the 45 year old MAYOR has been in denver for, like, THIRTY-FIVE YEARS. they’re known to be quite COMPLACENT, but being OPTIMISTIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble PEDRO PASCAL. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those FRESHLY PRESSED TAILORED SUITS, CIGARETTES PRESSED AGAINST GLASS ASHTRAYS, ABSURD ORNATE VASES, AND BEDHEAD FASHIONED WITH MOLDING PASTE INTO MESSY-CHIC vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough!
PEDRO PASCAL
photographed by Norman Jean Roy for Esquire (March 2023)

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