redrighthanded | IC; Duplicity Inbox

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."

IC; Duplicity Inbox

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