redrighthanded | IC; Duplicity Inbox

Jacob needs no such time to think. He knows what he wants, what he's always craved, and the answer comes with an accompanying peel of laughter. "Free."

It's the one thing he can't have. At home, he's bound to the Creed, has been since his birth, and while there are no physical chains to hold him, he knows full well the reality of the world he comes from. He can't unknow it, the war between Templar and Assassin, the number of innocent people killed and enslaved because of it. He has a moral duty to do something about it, to act on what he knows.

But he wouldn't have picked that life for himself.

And Hellboy knows the state of play here. They have no freedom, not really. Unable to buy anything for themselves, needing permission to go to the Up, all the rest of the bullshit this place has thrown at them.

"But failing that? I'd rather be drunk."

As his shift is now undone, he drops the hand down and pulls from between the bed and thin mattress a hip flask. It's not quite as full as it was when he arrived, but it's far from empty. And there's some good, strong spirits in there. He takes a pull, and then offers it out.

It's a pretty good answer; Hellboy wishes he'd thought of it. He keeps his eyes on the other man, the steady beat of his evening at the club still washing against his internal shores. He doesn't quite feel buzzed, just relaxed. Probably more relaxed than he should be, but he'll take it over feeling crowded and confused.

Jacob seems to be thinking along the same lines. Hellboy cracks a bit of a grin at the sight of that hidden flask and pulls himself up a little bit so he can reach out and accept it. It's darker and a softer burn than the tequila he's been drinking, but it pools in his belly and chest just the same. He wonders idly if he should be worried at how easy it is for him to get drunk here.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, he offers the flask back again.

"So how come the window?" He indicates the feature in question with a nod of his head. "Got something against doors?"

The wane light makes that grin glow almost bright as his eyes, and Jacob's glad that he reaches out for the flask. A bit of camaraderie has never gone amiss, it makes a difficult situation far easier to bear. When it's returned, Jacob takes another swig himself. He's not sure yet what he'll do when it runs out, but he supposes there must be some local brew that will warm him from the inside out in the same way.

"Oh, that." Jacob murmurs. "I was on the roof. It was quicker, rather than going all the way to the ground floor, and then taking the stairs. That's why I leave it open."

It seemed like common sense to him. He used the rooftops as often as he used the roads, maybe even more often here, where SIN guards patrolled the streets. It gave him a better understanding of where things were, what routes he could take if he needed to get somewhere fast. He's not entirely sure the people that run the housing are going to be very pleased about using the window of their room as his own personal entrance and exit. But it was late, the place was badly lit, and he's certain no one but Hellboy would have noticed him.

Edited 2020-11-24 21:20 (UTC)

Hellboy raises his eyebrows a little as he folds his left arm back behind his head, using the new angle to look over at Jacob. The tip of his tail ticks thoughtfully back and forth on the floor.

"The roof?" He's not especially surprised to learn that his roommate is kind of quirky; everyone in the city seems to have something going on, and it maybe goes a little way to explain those scars and the guy's carefree attitude towards their surroundings. Part of him admires that kind of freewheeling attitude, it reminds him of the romantic heroes he worshipped as a kid, Lobster Johnson and the rest.

"See anything interesting up there?"

There's a soft noise, a hum of confirmation but also a wait-a-second sort of noise, as Jacob pulls himself up and off the bed, back towards his coat. He pulls put some bits of paper- mismatched scraps that he could get his hands on- which he's begun to carefully make a plan of the city. At least, this half of it.

He comes back to the beds, and sits down on the edge of his own, looking over the notes and the sketches.

"The Down is pretty extensive and its difficult to really get an idea of it, but... it's not bad looking, at night." He felt the same way about London. It was a seething hellhole but bloody beautiful when pin-pricks of light lit it from within.

"And I don't recognise any of the stars. If they are stars." He adds, although perhaps that's a given. They're clearly not on Earth. But where they could be aside from Earth gives him a bit of a headache.

When Jacob comes back around to sit on the edge of his bed, Hellboy levers himself up on one elbow to look over at what he's brought out. The dim light isn't much of a challenge for his eyes; he glances over the handful of drawings with unfeigned interest, even reaching out to take one, with a glance up at the other man's face for permission before he does so.

"Hey, nice," he murmurs, more about the sketches than the idea of strange stars or a city spread out in front of him. His own artistic ability is limited to the occasional scrawl of some arcane symbol or motif, but he knows enough to be impressed by the deft and precise lines.

Jacob makes no effort to stop Hellboy examining the drawing and maps, he brought them out for him to see them if he wanted to. They aren't perfect by any means, but they aren't bad. The map has a few sites numbered and labelled: the stations, warehouses, other buildings.

He then reaches for his flask again, has another drink.

"I'm trying to work out how this place works. Who does what. Where the main points of interest are. Who the fuck is running the thing." He pauses and glances after the paper. "Eventually."

He shrugs that off, and takes another mouthful and offers the flask out again. "What did you do, in your world?"

Even if it's simple, it's more than Hellboy feels he could create given the chance. He examines the notes a little longer before offering them back again. It feels good to share a quiet moment like this, almost like they're in a normal kind of place. He takes the flask when it's held out to him and tips back a shallow swallow, not wanting to drain the thing when it's not his.

"I was a paranormal investigator," he replies after a brief pause to think about that answer. "Now I'm.. not so sure. Left the agency I was with a while ago. Spent a few years kinda being thrown around. Lost a couple years in the wilderness and stuck on the bottom of the sea." He gives a tiny shrug, holding out the flask.

"How about you? Roof inspector?"

"A paranormal investigator?" Jacob frowns, repeating the words as he takes the sketches back, tucking them away. He's never heard of such a thing but... "Like a medium but not quite?"

Someone who deals with ghosts, or at least, the suspicion and rumour of ghosts and supernatural things. He would scoff because he doesn't believe in those things himself, but looking across the room? At a man with glowing eyes, a tail, the remains of horns? Probably best not to say that's bullshit. It clearly isn't where Hellboy is from. And in truth, he has gone out looking for ghosts himself- in Dicken's haunted house, he's chased Spring-Heeled Jack over half of London. And then there was that strange carriage accident...

No. It could all be explained, logically. At least, where he's from.

He can't help but grin at the suggestion. Roof inspector? He'll have to use that one next time he gets caught somewhere he shouldn't be, like the balconies of Buckingham Palace.

"No. I was... I ran a gang." Which may be better than telling people he's an assassin, there's too much that has to be explained, too much history, too many questions about why and what and how. He doesn't know the answers to some of it, can't remember other parts. He doesn't know if Hellboy would believe him or think less of him anyway, and finding out your roommate murders people? Probably not something most people would be happy about.

It's not exactly the answer Hellboy's expecting, especially since it doesn't explain all the coming in through the window stuff, but he's willing to accept it if it's what Jacob wants to give him. He's used to people having their tough stories, the secret parts of themselves they might not want to share with someone they've known less than a week, so he doesn't push, though he also doesn't hide the slight upwards tick of his eyebrows that betrays his lack of conviction in that being the end of that particular sentence.

"Sure," he offers, shifting to lie back down again with a quiet groan, the tiredness in his muscles starting to tell through the buzz of the alcohol. He gives Jacob a narrow glance.

"Used to being in charge, huh?" He asks evenly, more curious than judgemental. "No wonder you're looking to get outta here."

He doesn't need full daylight to see some of the skepticism in Hellboy's expression. Maybe it doesn't explain everything, but it's not a lie. And for the time being, it's what he's prepared to say. But Hellboy doesn't push, and for that Jacob really is grateful, relaxing a little as he screws the lid back onto the flask, and tucks it away again, along with the plans and half-drawn maps.

"I was expecting something more suggestive after a line like that," He teases, and then begins to unlace and pull off his boots. It's cool enough to keep the rest of his clothes on as he settles back on his own bed. "And yes, I need to go back. But I think... this place needs shaking up first."

Doms and Subs, poor and rich, oppressed and oppressor. It's so familiar that it hurts, and having come from one success to here, Jacob can't help but feel he can do something to make this place better. For everyone.

"Yeah?" Hellboy's voice is a low rumble. He watches the other man lean back on his bed, considering it. The way Jacob talks, it doesn't sound like an idle boast, the kind of thing a guy might say to impress someone. He sounds like he believes what he's saying -- more importantly, like he believes he can do it. He's a young guy and he's got the scars to back it up, so Hellboy's prepared to take him at his word for the moment.

He hums thoughtfully, scratching his bare chest with one big stone fingertip. "How are you gonna do that?"

Jacob doesn't say it as a boast. It's matter of fact, direct. The place is unjust, inhumane, and it needs to change. Just like London needed to be freed from the evil choke-hold of the Templars, Duplicity in turn needs to break free.

He turns to face Hellboy again, and while it's probably unwise to tell him any of his plans, he doesn't actually hesitate to do just that.

"There's two problems. First there's
the set up of the place, and two: the people in charge and the SIN guards. You have to deal with both at the same time, cutting off the head won't fix anything. Might just make it worse. You have to even the disparity between the Down and the Up, you have to stop enforcing these positions and refusing people basic rights."

He pauses then, sighs. "But I don't know how to achieve any of that yet."

Studying him in the dim light, Hellboy can't find anything wrong with what Jacob's proposing. It's clear that the whole city is in a pretty messed up state and he can't blame him for wanting to stand up for what's right, even if it does sound like a lot for one guy to try to achieve on his own. But he can appreciate the spirit of the proposal, even if the details need to be worked out.

"Lotta people don't seem to mind it," he points out after a little thought. Not to try to poke a hole in Jacob's plans, just airing on what he's observed. "Seems like some even like it this way. Might not be just the people in charge you gotta deal with."

Jacob isn't so sure about that, but Hellboy's words give him pause, a moment of uncertainty. But then again, there isn't any other examples of how things could be, no options.

"I don't think they realise it doesn't have to be this way." He says, "We've come from outside. We know that this isn't right. We know there are other options."

He shifts, pulling the thin blanket up over himself. "Everyone has to have the opportunity to thrive, to be free, to make their own way. You shouldn't need to have a contract with someone else in order to have that opportunity. You don't need permission to be an individual."

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