Walking into the room after Sorrel, Jophiel notices the couch and a single bed. Half wondering about the potential conflict ahead, he was somewhat surprised to find that Sorrel had plopped his bag down on the couch. With that being seen, there was nothing else for Jophiel to do except drop his own bearings upon the bed, Kicking his shoes off, Jophiel wasted no time getting comfortable atop the mattress, his back pressed against it as he silently relished the luxurious feel of the fabric. Though it was a room with a single bed, chief knew how to accommodate his agents comfortably. Well... as comfortably as he could while still testing his agents. He thought about offering the bed to Sorrel, but quickly dismissed the thought, partly because he ran out of sh*ts to give about others back at the airport. Jet-lagged and tired, he decided he'd be true to his word and shut up for Sorrel's sake. It was for the sake of the mission, actually, not Sorrel's; he couldn't say that Jophiel hindered the mission if Jophiel was well rested and Sorrel was the one deprived of sleep. Honestly, couch or bed, an agent would have to get the most use out of every night, no matter how much they were out for blood out of spite.
let the sun breathe life once more [pafp, bxb]
-
-
Jophiel takes the bed without offering it to Sorrel, which is all fine with him, given his own apartment's bed being almost completely unused. He usually ends up passed out on the floor or on the couch anyway, if he's lucky. Well, considering he's only been up for, what, a day, he doesn't bother with getting ready to sleep, reaching for the briefcase the boss had given him.
Cracking it open, he pulls out the sheaf of coded papers, ready to endure a long night's worth of reading and deciphering. He might be bored about ten minutes into it, but considering there's literally nothing else for him to do here, he may as well read mission papers.
Sorrel spots an ashtray on the coffee table and wonders if Jophiel hates cigarette smoke or not. He hopes he does as he reaches for a lighter.
--
[ feel free to start your next post at the beginning of the next morning ]
-
As if Jophiel would let Sorrel's spite get past him. Though he lay on his back, his eyes caught the flicker of metal and there wasn't much else to say after that. He only let out a long, deep sigh in response to Sorrel's prospect of smoking. To hell with his lungs, maybe then he'll be less obnoxious... Jophiel secretly thought in his head. As for him, he was in fact against smoking, and he was not going to take the second-hand.
Peeling off one of the pillow sheets from beside him, Jophiel tailored the fabric into a bandanna, which he then used to wrap around his neck, bringing the white cotton sheet up and over the bridge of his nose.
~
The night offered a great deal of beauty rest for Jophiel; the guy could sleep almost anywhere and make the most of it. And, to top it all off, he had no need to set an alarm clock. With cloud cover sunlight coming through the window blinds, Jophiel's eyes flickered as he stared at the wall, having turned to the side in his sleep. From there he could see the digital numbers, but only the hour, marked 6, was reassuring.
Jophiel wasted no time sitting up from the hotel mattress, his morning bedhead only amplifying his hair's casual and sexy look. Putting a hand through it, he yawned in silence, then pausing for a deep breath inward.
It was then that he remembered what was wrapped around his face, and the reason he was here: he wasn't alone.
-
"Good morning, sunshine," Sorrel drawls over what has to be his fifth or sixth cup of tea when he hears Jophiel wake up, sprawled out over the couch. He's gone through all of the mission papers and taken a quick shower in the time Jophiel took his nap and is currently watching an aimless cooking show on the television the room thankfully supplies.
Evidently, the smoke did bother Jophiel, which is hilarious, since Sorrel put out the cigarette as soon as he heard Jophiel's breathing even out into sleep. He's a petty jackass, sue him. At least he aired out the room an hour ago; the breeze drifting through the open window is evident of that.
Sitting up straight, he sets his papers nearly back into the briefcase, shutting it with one hand and running a hand through his still damp red hair with the other. Sorrel stands up and stretches slightly, hearing a satisfying pop from his back. He supposes being in awkward positions for the entire night does that to you. He's also pretty sure he's supposed to be more tired after pulling two allnighters in a row, but then again, even if he were tired because of the allnighters he wouldn't be able to tell, since he's tired pretty much all the time.
(Sometimes he fucking despises life because which bag of dicks gives the depressed insomniac the power to put people to sleep and then make him unable to use it on himself?)
-
[ gonna give this a lil bump! ]
-
//Sorry about the little recess, IRL things. I'm back
/Ah. yes. Sorrel.
It didn't surprise Jophiel that the red-haired brainiac spent yet another sleepless night. He found it quite ironic that he couldn't use his powers of sleep on himself, which Jophiel thought would be quite useful.
Noticing Sorrel's damp hair, that reminded Jophiel that they happened to have access to an ergonomic shower.
"...Morning." He replied to his partner after a bit of stretching himself.
Wasting no more time on the bed, he slides off one side to approach the entrance to the shower, closing the door behind him.
-
[ no problem, IRL comes first. ]
“Make it quick,” he calls after Jophiel, casting another glance at the mission papers. He sighs deeply, shutting off the television and hoping Jophiel doesn’t take too long. If he does, he may very well throw the remote at him.
He makes an internal list of things to do—first of all, inform Jophiel of what they have to do and all the more sensitive shit, since it isn’t just a gang this time around. Well, it is still a gang but the ringleader they’re going after has an ability, which makes things tons more complicated.
-
It didn't take too long for Jophiel to get ready, with only about a gap of 10 to 15 minutes between the time he entered the shower and the time he opened the door. Interestingly, There wasn't a single patch of fog clouding the mirrors, alluding to the fact that what made Jophiel a more unbelievable human being was the fact that he could bear the anguish of cold morning showers. For him, it wasn't so much an attribute of his powers as it was a well-grounded discipline, but Jophiel had to admit that his power's affinity certainly helped.
"Alright, ready."
Jophiel's styled hair was as annoyingly consistent as ever. He had even brought a change of clothes, donning a plain-white t with a navy sports coat and clean, whitewash denim. This way, he wouldn't blend in as much in the crowd.
But what was he kidding; Jophiel wasn't the average guy. If anything, he'd be picked out of the crowd by his social media status alone, not to mention he actually had to play the part in order to keep his work at the agency a secret. What he'd noticed, however, was that rarely did his fans ever approach him during daylight hours, either because they were shy out in public or they had places to be. Anyway, he was grateful for that at least, though there was always that one bold fan....
-
"Took you long enough." Sorrel slips his jacket over his shoulders again, casting a brief glance at Jophiel and hoping his appearance won't draw too much attention, mostly for his own sake rather than the mission's. He hates social interaction. "Are you eating breakfast, or are we going straight for scouting?" he asks, shuffling his mental notes so he knows what to say.
"This isn't a regular case, by the way," Sorrel adds, shrugging. "So you can rest assured that we aren't getting demoted just yet. This particular town's pretty dangerous; apparently superpowered individuals have also been going missing in this area so we're going to have to be careful, and the boss thinks there's some correlation with this gang leader. He's got an ability, apparently."
-
"Long enough? Please."
But Jophiel could only smirk with a vengeance at Sorrel's question, seizing the question like a chink in armor. "Well.... I wasn't going to.... but since you brought it up, why not?" As Jophiel makes his way to the door, he hears Sorrel's bit of info about the case.
Define 'regular' Jophiel had half a mind to say, as the agency itself was something of an odd division of the government, even more reclusive than either FBI or CIA.
"Well," Jophiel began in response, "An ability.... is just vague. It just makes my job much more complicated than it has to be." That being said, Jophiel's 'job' was only an outlet for the agent's impulses, both on and off duty. Concerning the first, Jophiel was one of the head hunters of the agency. Though he had to deal with being labeled a brute like all the other muscle in the agency, he took pride in knowing he was probably one of the most intelligent, borderline an individual who might as well be in Sorrel's position.
But that didn't excite Jophiel. Honestly, sitting across from a screen, no matter where you were, just screamed boring in his mind. No, he needed action, and that's what he set out to find as an agent. He wasn't without his head though; this is what made him one of the best - he knew when to pull back, though he may not like it.
This was, sadly, one of those moments.
"Alright," He resigned to Sorrel's insistence on pressing forward, "I'll just snag something."
-
"I don't care if you need to eat," Sorrel sighs, exasperated, "so long you make it quick and you don't drag me along with you." He shrugs helplessly at Jophiel's comment of the vagueness of the information being detrimental. "Better than nothing," he replies, though he can't disagree. "Apparently, the disappearances have been going on for a lot longer than this guy's even been in power, so we can't really say there's any correlation, but we're not taking correlation instead of coincidence off the table quite yet."
Sorrel thinks about what else he needs to say. "Right. We only know the dude's got an ability because..." He pauses. "Don't know if you knew this already, but tech department's been making a superpower-detector of some sorts. Not too great yet, since it can only tell us if someone has a superpower or not. At least it's pretty accurate, about 80% or so. Anyways, our target set it off, so we're pretty sure he has a superpower."
He clears his throat awkwardly, unused to talking so much. "Anyway, that's the info."
-
"Better than nothing." Jophiel sighed, his breath long and deep.
With as much info as they were given, Jophiel didn't expect much to be done during the first day. The best case scenario would be to find this guy before noon, take him down, and have just about the rest of the assignment's time to subdue the public with his appearance in the city, and then enjoy the rest of his stay here with them, all of the girls with him behind closed doors.
There's your happy ending. He perked up at the thought.
"Y'know what? I can skip breakfast for once, let's go." Jophiel insisted as he took off towards the hotel lobby.
As he passed by the doorway towards the front desk, he hoped to eye the girl from last night still working there, but sadly it wasn't to be. In her place stood a tall, yet lanky young man, probably around Jophiel's age if not younger - his lack of facial hair lead Jophiel to believe the latter. He seemed to look up almost immediately as Jophiel entered the room, his eyes locked on Jophiel's as his mouth began to form the words 'Hey, aren't you-'
But before he could even utter those words, Jophiel would be out of sight at the front of the building, but not before taking advantage of the boy's obvious infatuation and giving him a picture-perfect smile.
-
Judging from how Jophiel pretty much perked up instantly, Sorrel has a pretty good idea of why and what he'd been thinking. Ah, the power of boners. He gives a deep, irritated sigh, and wonders what he did to deserve this kind of shit. He personally has no interest in sex, so that just makes everything going on so much worse. Sure, he's dated before--men, women, and otherwise--but none of them ever got very far. Some ended precisely because he wasn't willing to go any further. Oh well.
He inclines his head apologetically at the poor boy who'd replaced the woman from last night before hurrying after Jophiel. "Hey, jackass, slow the fuck down," he snaps, making sure to pitch his voice quieter so the little boy a few feet away can't hear him. Dammit. Sorrel procures a paper and hands it to Jophiel. "Here's a list of potential locations they might be at. We'll meet up at the hotel at twelve. Give me a call if you run into trouble, and I'll do the same." Well, that's a lie, probably, unless it's actually serious, and Sorrel's pretty sure Jophiel's the same way.
-
Hearing the voice behind him call him out and curse a name at him, he stopped to see what exactly his partner was squawking about. He grins when Sorrel takes the little boy's presence into account, but takes the paper without protest. Looking at most of the locations, it seemed that they were all quite scattered about the city, which was typical of a gang that wanted to keep their hideouts separate and under the radar of law enforcement. To bad many of them would be searched out here and now.
Before he turned around to leave the opposite way of Sorrel, Jophiel couldn't help but let out a chuckle.
"Ha, yeah right." Jophiel said as he bounded off, knowing that they would both be kidding themselves if they actually agreed to call each other. After all, this was Jophiel's favorite part of the job; he wouldn't let the guy who files the reports spoil it for him.
Giving Sorrel a salute he took off briskly down the street, happening to eye a cluster of young college girls who were sitting at a nearby cafe, to which he curtly clicked his tongue towards as he passed them, leaving them flustered as he turned the corner and vanished from Sorrel's sight.
-
Sorrel opens his mouth to shout something profanity ridden after Jophiel as he heads off, but then he remembers the little boy, and shuts his mouth, gritting his teeth. Under his breath, he mutters, “What a dickhead.”
He heads off for the locations he hadn’t written on Jophiel’s paper, shoving his hands into his pockets. His hand grips the switchblade in his pocket tightly as he heads for the first one—abandoned warehouse. It’s cliche as all hell, but the whole poisoned chalice shit does kind of help for hideouts. It’s so expected, you wouldn’t expect anything to be there, and whatnot.
-
//How are we going to go about this? Just whatever goes while they're separated?
-
[ pretty much! ]
-
Definitely the place, especially since the entrance couldn't be seen from the side of the street just by looks alone. No, Jophiel had to do some walking around, until he found that the entrance happened to be in the alleyway between the two buildings, one of which just happened to be a well-known bistro. At this, he'd joked in particular that it would be funny to find that this gang consisted of a bunch of classy gents. Though they'd have his respect as well-dressed men, Jophiel would sadly have to send each and every one to the slammer, provided they don't try to kill him of course.
Given the nature of their assignment, however, the agent prepared himself for the worst.
Slinking down the alleyway with little trouble, he could see the entrance to the place, guarded precariously by a single guard. This entry was hard to find, he reasoned, and most people who happened to wander down this way probably were sent packing by the bouncer-looking figure in the dark.
Well, like it or not, this guy would have to deal with someone surprising today.
-
Third location, and Sorrel's pretty sure this is the one. Outwardly, it doesn't look like anything special--just a crew readying the warehouse for demolition, with all the warning tape and shit--but if you know what to look for, and Sorrel definitely knows what to look for, you'd find a few hints that it's not all there is. For one, he's caught the glint of a weapon multiple times, and those boxes they're carrying in certainly don't seem necessary for demolition.
He pulls out his phone and sends Jophiel a curt message. Found it. and followed it up with the address. Hopefully he responds quickly. If I don't send you a message within two hours you can assume I'm dead. He pauses, then adds, Make sure I'm cremated, thanks.
-
Naw, don't say that! He texted back with a grin. ...But if you insist....
Interstingly enough, as Jophiel finished the text message, squatting low behind a few boxes beside the entrance in the alley, the bouncer seemed to hear something from within the building. He turned to enter, closing the door behind him.
Luckily for Jophiel, the opportunity arose as the man left before even looking back at the door, which allowed the agent to prop a foot between it after he bounded over the boxes to let himself in.
Don't mind if I do... He muttered coyly.