ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵘⁿᵏʸᵃʳᵈ

This was a potential death wish, approaching the man that Tristan was slowly coming up upon, and the logical part of his brain knew that. It screamed how bad of an idea this was. But since when did Tristan Tramp ever listen to that side of himself? Rarely if ever, and certainly not when he was a good three or four glasses in on whatever alcoholic concoctions the hotel hosts had provided in bulk. So here he was, stopping to stand right in front of the man he had once called brother. The man who, last time they had seen each other, had nearly beaten him to death. But with the large crowd surrounding them and the knowledge that Oogie was just a shout away, well, Tramp far more confident than he probably should have that nothing would happen. Or if it did, this time around it wouldn’t be him laying on the ground in agony.

“Bennet,” he greets with a grin, hands shoved into his pockets as he looks the other man up and down. It was strange, seeing him wearing an actual costume, but he’d seen Atta running around with her sister wearing a very similar outfit and it suddenly made perfect sense. “Look at you. Here with a wife, wearing a couple’s costume and everything. I remember a time when you were ready to rip my head off for wanting to settle down and make a decent life with my own girl, remember that? The shit you gave me for trying to win Lilah back after you blew it all up in the first place.” That wasn’t exactly what had happened - the fault actually falling entirely on Tristan for lying to his girlfriend for so long, but it was always easier to place the blame on anyone else whenever he could. And Buster had been right there, an easy target to throw all the shit at instead. “Funny how that was an issue but now you can run around with Atta, playing house and no one’s supposed to say a word.”

Their reunion was overdue but of course, Buster was looking forward to elongating that for as long as possible. The duo had unfinished history and his current path had given Tramp a perfect landing into the present. Somehow Bennet Rottman took over the life that was once occupied by the other; he was sleeping next to someone every night and actually considering a future with a real family. After so many years of spitting at the idea, refusing to even believe that one was worth anything, he'd been proven wrong. He came through the sea of people like a snake and Buster stood awaiting him on the other side. "I don't think it's the same thing when my fist isn't through her drywall," the man replied nonchalantly. Buster couldn't deny the strangeness he felt in his own skin that night, pulling at the collar of the costume Atta had picked out for him. While he'd put in a few no-gos when it came to his attire he trusted her to not make him look like a complete fool. "Not really my color, is it?" His eyes went down to the uniform he'd dawned for the evening with a shrug. "You've never been able to keep your mouth shut before, I don't expect you to start now, Tristan." It was a long time coming. Buster couldn't deny the turning of the tables and how strange they'd ended up on each other's side of the fence. "No one knows how they end up here, they just do. You'd know that better than anyone as a deadman. You're just lucky to still be walkin' topside if you ask me."

His mention of the Junkyard immediately had any tension that had been eased by her sister’s hug forming right back up in her shoulders. It was a reminder of exactly why it was that Dot was struggling so hard to trust him and welcome him into their family - his life of crime and the circle that he ran with, the trouble that he was involved in that felt all too familiar to the other man that had been slowly ruining the Dreyfus name. She doesn’t comment on it though, knowing that doing so would only start a legitimate fight - and that wasn’t something she wanted to deal with, not tonight. It was going to come eventually, she could practically feel it bubbling under the surface as they all tiptoed around each other, but not tonight. “Yeah, I’ll take a drink. Whatever Atta’s having is fine,” she agrees with a small nod, looking back to her sister and feeling so wrong for struggling with what else to say. “So, uhh, how’s work been?” It wasn’t the type of question she ever asked before, hardly getting involved in the business in any way at all, but it felt like a safe enough start. And it was at least a bit more personal than bringing up the weather, which had been her other option. @attaant

"Wine for you, then," she announced, taking the two glasses from the counter and handing Dot one of them. Atta didn't think her sister had ever willingly asked her how work had been going, but she supposed it was a good thing she had, especially if she was wanting to know the truth about what she did every day. "Actually, it's complicated, right now," she admitted. "We hare warehouses off the island, and they've always been more difficult to manage, especially when the borders were closed. But, now that they're open, naturally, Hopper wants something to do with them." She hated having to bring his name up anytime in conversation, but especially now, when she was trying to keep spirits high. "I'm hoping other things are keeping him busy enough, for now, so I have time to prepare. I think we'll be fine: I've been in contact with the managers of the warehouses, and he hasn't tried to threaten them, or anything, so." Atta paused, feeling sheepish in offering the truth to her sister for the first time. @nohousedog

Buster stuck to the sidelines of the conversation, being nothing more than a bartender as the women did some much-needed catching up. He knew his place that night for maybe the only time in his life. Most of the time he would find a way anywhere he wasn't wanted but when it came to social aspects he preferred to stay quiet. Instead, Buster continued the meal that was to be served and kept his ears open to the chat going on behind him. It wasn't a secret that things had been all quiet on the Hopper front which was as much of a relief as a cause for alarm. Whatever he had coming was to be discovered soon enough but at least Buster tried to use the time to prepare for the future now that he had a family to protect.

"Dinner is served," the man eventually announced, coming over to the ladies with their plates balancing on his arm. That came as the perfect opportunity to slip in his thoughts on the matter while Dot probably didn't want to hear them he wanted to make his intentions clear. "When he comes back we'll be ready." That being the tip of the iceberg for what Buster wanted to prepare for Hopper's inevitable return. "Atta's got my entire crew in the palm of her hand, just like my dog, they like her more than me," he laughed as if it was a surprise they preferred his wife. He was smart enough of a man to know when he'd gotten something worth holding onto and Atta was a one-of-a-kind woman. "Can't blame them when the other option is me." Maybe then he could find mutual ground with Dot if she knew he understood the gem he'd found in her sister. @blueberrydot

After the attack of the festival and her failed attempt to get any new dirt on her sister’s supposed husband, Dot had needed a break from it all. Spending time with Atta meant being around Buster, and she still just wasn’t ready to do that - not even after he took a literal bullet for her. There was a guilt there, of course, that she couldn’t seem to just get over it and start liking him for that one simple act alone - but it wasn’t strong enough to actually get her to take the time and effort to change her stance on the man. Instead, she put another forced amount of distance between herself and the couple and focused entirely on the upcoming school year. So much had happened over the summer that she’d barely been able to prepare anything for her classroom, and after what felt like a failure of last year, she was determined to come back stronger than ever this time around.

But now the first two weeks were done, the routines were starting to be built, and every major task to prepare for the year had been completed. Of course there was still the day to day amount of busy work and tasks at hand, but none of those were a good enough excuse to keep up the distance between herself and her sister. And the guilt of not spending any time with her, of barely giving her more than just a few quick phone calls over the past month, that was one that was starting to truly eat away at Dot. Which was what led her to agree to a dinner at Atta’s place, despite the fact that she knew Buster was likely going to join them at some point. Avoiding the two of them forever wasn’t a possibility, not if she wanted to keep a relationship with her sister - which she absolutely did. So it was probably about time she sucked it up and just faced the couple head on.

Arriving with their mother’s famous honey cake in hand, Dot waited for the door to open after she gave it a good few loud kicks with her foot. Thankfully it was the eldest Dreyfus that answered, and a bright and genuine smile grew on her face at the sight of her sister - but it faltered after just a moment at the sound of a distinctly male voice calling out from the kitchen. She shouldn’t be surprised that Buster was here already, but she had been naively hoping to get at least some time alone with Atta before he made his presence known. “I brought dessert, like I promised,” she states the obvious, holding up the round tupperware as proof before stepping in and making her way through the house to the kitchen. And there he was, just like she’d heard, but the sight of him feeling so familiar and at home here was different than simply hearing his voice. Taking a breath to steady herself, a forced smile was plastered on her face as she stepped into the room and set her container down on the counter. “Didn’t realize it’d be a full house tonight - I would have made a bigger cake.” It was her not so subtle way of trying to jab at Buster’s presence here tonight, and while she’d play it off as being completely innocent if either one of them called her out on it, she also knew they’d know exactly what she really meant.

"I'll get the door," she called behind to Buster at the stove, knowing exactly who was at her front steps. It was with a smile and a breath of relief that she actually showed up that Atta opened the door for her sister. Her grin faltered, though, as it seemed Dot couldn't even manage more than a sentence without making a dig at her husband's presence--Atta thought she'd mentioned that it would be the three of them. "I think it can still be a cake for two, right? We'll just forget to leave out a third fork." Atta's arms wrapped tightly around her sister as she set the dessert down, eager to squeeze in a hug after one of the lengthiest periods of absence between the two. "I missed you," she told her, "I want to hear all about your first few weeks. We'll hang out, just us, after dinner?" Atta asked quietly, hoping the offer was one Dot had wanted to hear. @nohousedog

A family wasn't something he'd ever had or understood. In fact, most of his life had been spent detesting the very thought and gathering who felt like nowhere could be home for them. Maybe that was why it had initially been so strange falling into a routine with Atta, never expecting to fall in love but certainly not get married. One woman, one woman who accidentally stumbled into his life, had changed everything. He felt like he was becoming a joke to the old version of himself after everything he used to hate had become his normal. Now every night he went home to someone, kicked off his shoes at the door, and sat at a dining room table to enjoy a meal with his wife. Bennett had miraculously turned into the very thing he said he never would. Still, this new life wasn't one he wanted to alter in any way. It was kept quiet from his co-workers, his contentment with this white picket fence lifestyle but Buster knew they could see the changes in him.

It hadn't all been good, knowing it was him that drove a wedge between the sisters. While he wanted to give Dot the time she needed to adjust to his addition she'd made it clear that she didn't believe his intentions. "Good, dinner's almost done," he chimed back from the stove as he smiled proudly down at his roast that had been smoking for the majority of the day. A good meal wouldn't convince her but he figured it never hurt to be well-fed, not to mention the fact he'd become quite obsessed with grilling and smoking since turning into a failed foster. When the younger Dreyfus entered her comment made it clear how she'd felt about Buster joining them that night. "Don't worry I'm just here to cook and then I've got to get back to the Junkyard anyway for a delivery," he replied holding up his hands in defense, giving his wife an unsaid acknowledging nod. That way the girls were still able to have their time alone but he at least put forward the effort in seeing her since the accident. "You want a drink?" The man offered Dot before pouring himself a glass of bourbon, Atta her current favorite wine, knowing they'd need it with the way things were starting. @blueberrydot

Buster kept an arm around her, never having craved the closeness of another being besides his dog who had since taken a backseat to his wife. In fact, it had seemed like the animal had also chosen the woman as his favorite, having the same taste as his owner or so it seemed. "Even mafia bosses get busy," the man half-heartedly jokes while they both know the fire the other could rain down if he so chose. "You can't worry about that now, we don't know what's going to happen when that shit opens up." It wasn't that Buster hadn't been thinking about what could come of the changes to the Isle but he knew they'd make it through like they always did. He hoped some space might do his home some good, along with his newfound family. "We'll figure it out whatever comes out of it." Whatever was to come Buster wished to face together or as much as she'd let him, never forgetting his wife's fierce independence, it being one of the reasons he'd fallen for her. "Might even do us some good if we're lucky."

They hadn't met under normal circumstances, most relationships begin on a date and not marriage like his with Atta had. It wasn't how he'd expected to fall in love either, but he wouldn't complain with the cards he was dealt. There was someone else Buster had been trying to prove his loyalty to since their first meeting and that was none other than Dot. It wouldn't be something that happened overnight, he understood her desire to be protective of her sister in the same way the man was too. That didn't mean Dot fell through the cracks and she was considered family in the same way as his wife. He hadn't thought twice before using himself as a shield to protect the younger girl. Whether it had been her or her elder sister, Buster would've put himself in harm's way instead of them all the same. "As fine as one can be right now, I assume," he hummed in response to her. It wasn't worth either of them pretending what happened hadn't taken a toll while still having a silent agreeance to hold their own. The sight of the bottle brought a smile to his lips as Buster went to pour himself a glass. "Now we're talkin'." He poured some on ice, pushing one of the glasses over with his own, nodding for her to take. "You probably need it as much as I do right now." Even if it was Buster who took the physical brunt of the day, he knew it hadn't taken the weight of the situation off the other's shoulders. Dot had been through enough to not be a stranger to these sorts of things but that didn't necessarily make them easier to swallow. "Doesn't hurt to take the edge off," the man said before taking his first sip into its numbing escape.

Buster had better things to worry about than how his wounds would heal now wondering what was to come. He'd been prepared for something of this caliber but for hunters to come for those who weren't magic was far too personal. That was the thorn in his side and not the stitches from the bullet pried from his flesh. The intentions behind it had him feeling its presence long after the ammo left his body. Now that he had something real to protect there were motivations Buster never experienced before, only feeling whole with her beside him now. A content hum came from his lips before the future was brought back into the light and his eyes flickered down. "And what do you think of that?" His opinion only mattered to some extent when it was Atta who had the most to lose. "At least it's keeping Hopper off your tail," Buster mused out loud. He had been grateful for that at a time like this when he wasn't in the shape to properly protect his family. "About damn time if you ask me." Buster's own business was looking for expansion and now also the safety of those he'd come to care about more than himself.

⨯⨯⨯

While to Buster it was good enough to go back to the Junkyard to use vodka to numb the pain and pour in a little for disinfection, his wife didn't seem to agree. He'd protested going to the hospital immediately, arguing that he was fine compared to others who would require a doctor's hand. That being said the throbbing in his back spoke for itself, even he was unable to keep a pained scowl off his face. They'd found a middle ground in the Hotel Transylvania where everything could be handled privately. It was a strange woman who spoke far too much while she sewed him up who removed the bullet and informed him how close it had been to severing a nerve. Buster thought he'd keep that minute detail to himself to not worry Atta more than she already was. Once the makeshift nurse left, his favorite blonde entered as he pulled himself up to lean on the headboard, needing its support more than he wanted to admit. "See? Totally fine, as good as new," the man said with a nonchalant smile that he had worn a thousand other times. A groan slipped as he shifted uncomfortably after grazing his freshly bandaged wound, his hand holding his side for reinforcement. He nodded for her to sit beside him, craving her presence for a comfort only she could give. "Dot doin' okay? I know she'd just started going back out again." Buster felt responsible for protecting him, at least as much as he could. While the threat up until then had been a cockroach of the earth, there were other evils afoot on the Isle.

Most of the time Buster was a man who kept to himself, that was the case until he met Atta Dreyfus. Now he was not only putting himself into the light but in the line of fire in order to protect this newfound family. These were actions that most of his crew would've laughed at if they'd been told he put himself in harm's way for someone else. While they had been his closest friends and employees it was widely known that Buster wouldn't be putting himself in front of them if a bullet came their way. That was different for the girls he'd come to call his family, even if Dot hadn't been entirely supportive of his union with her sister. At first, all he was able to give was a nod from the uncertainty of how to accept the concern that came along with his actions. To Buster, it was a simple decision but he knew there were bigger things at hand now, not thinking twice before putting himself in front of her sister. "But I am," he assured her again, making sure to keep the severity to himself. The last thing Atta needed right now was knowing how close he'd come to a much darker ending. "You don't need to thank me, Atta." The man adjusted so that his arm was able to drape over her shoulders and pull her into his broad chest. "You know there was no question, you two are my family now and I'm just glad you're both safe."

⨯⨯⨯

While to Buster it was good enough to go back to the Junkyard to use vodka to numb the pain and pour in a little for disinfection, his wife didn't seem to agree. He'd protested going to the hospital immediately, arguing that he was fine compared to others who would require a doctor's hand. That being said the throbbing in his back spoke for itself, even he was unable to keep a pained scowl off his face. They'd found a middle ground in the Hotel Transylvania where everything could be handled privately. It was a strange woman who spoke far too much while she sewed him up who removed the bullet and informed him how close it had been to severing a nerve. Buster thought he'd keep that minute detail to himself to not worry Atta more than she already was. Once the makeshift nurse left, his favorite blonde entered as he pulled himself up to lean on the headboard, needing its support more than he wanted to admit. "See? Totally fine, as good as new," the man said with a nonchalant smile that he had worn a thousand other times. A groan slipped as he shifted uncomfortably after grazing his freshly bandaged wound, his hand holding his side for reinforcement. He nodded for her to sit beside him, craving her presence for a comfort only she could give. "Dot doin' okay? I know she'd just started going back out again." Buster felt responsible for protecting him, at least as much as he could. While the threat up until then had been a cockroach of the earth, there were other evils afoot on the Isle.

⨯⨯⨯

Buster went into autopilot when the attack happened; nothing else mattered besides making sure his family was safe. Up until now, he hadn't a worry in the world besides where his next deal was coming from. As it turns out getting married changed a lot more than his marital status. Now he was sitting in a bed at the Hotel Transylvania with the worst back pain of his life waiting for his wife to bring him a few necessities from the Junkyard. While he'd also asked for someone to bring him a glass of whiskey Buster was beginning to think that request wouldn't be fulfilled. He was rummaging through some of the dresser drawers when he got a visitor, expecting it to be Atta but instead finding her younger sister at the door. "Dot, how you feelin'? You doin' alright?" While it had been he who took the shot aimed at her, he felt the need to make sure she was recovering well. "You don't imagine they hide liquor around here anywhere, do you? I don't know about you but I could use a drink."