The Roost

“There, that should do it,” he nods, satisfaction showing in his lopsided grin. The other eyes it as the low static hums, its quiet buzzing adding to the background noise of the small office.

“.. Aaaand we’re supposed to just sit and wait?” The shorter of the pair observes with a hint of skepticism in his voice as he leans in slightly to examine it, earning him an elbow to the arm.

“Aw c’mon Cans, it’s only for an hour or so a day- what, don’t tell me you’d rather be doin’ a stock intake right about now? Besides, we’re being ‘admirable agents’ by doing this, y’know.”

“The day we—you—can be called that is the day I hand in my resignation.” Canary snorted, “You’re just here because there’s no AC in the shop.”

Cardinal leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up with closed eyes and a smirk.

“Got that right.”

The two continue to bicker on, the radio sitting ever patiently between them as it awaits the first transmission of who knows how many…

A brief shift is heard, followed by a pause.

"Are you both field agents? Do you do anything else besides field work? I specialize in disguises, but I sometimes go into the field in a pinch!"

“Yep! About half and half, sometime’s the work’s slow so we find ways to make ourselves useful around here. I'm usually in the workshop either dismantling or building something, depends on what we got and what we need. Adding hidden compartments to desks or cars or what have you, taking stuff apart so make sure it's not gonna blow up on us, stuff like that." Cardinal shrugs. "Not a whole hell of a lot of interesting projects."

Canary has been staring at him since one of the last lines came out of his mouth, a mix of disbelief and horror on his face.

"........ You're who we have diffusing bombs? I get numbers, budgets, sometimes disguise, and you get explosives. ARMED explosives."

"Well not really, I just find 'em. Then I call the guys in and they handle it." He says it so casually, it's as if he were talking about how mail gets sorted.

".. I need to get my affairs in order."

"You have affairs?"

Both are quiet for a moment, evidently caught off guard (and a little weirded out) by the out-of-the-blue question.

“Well,” The agent in question starts, “I can't say that I'm unpopular with the ladies, but what exactly d'you mean by 'an-”

“Enough.” Canary jumps in, almost a little too quickly. He clears his throat and squints at the radio as if he were giving the hard stare to the speaker themselves.

"Somethin' like that, yeah. We're the rope that's being tossed to some of the fresh-faced fellas out there who wanna figure out how to stick around as long as we have!" Cardinal rattles off, clearly a practiced line.

"Nice alliteration," Canary notes without looking up from the small folder he was skimming. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?"

Something slides through the mailslot of their door, getting both of their attentions— an envelope, the large yellow kind that promised documents of some kind, what with its official seal of classification that was pressed on neatly and sat unbroken.

“I didn’t know we got mail.” Cardinal thinks aloud, half to himself as he pushes himself up to get it.

“We don’t. How strange…” Canary holds out a hand expectantly for it as Cardinal returns to the desk, taking it and flipping it over twice as he inspects it. It seems perfectly fine, and it very well could be important, seeing as how it was delivered directly to them. He pulls open and reaches into the nearest drawer and fishes around for a letter opener, using it to neatly slice open the paper..

Neither hardly has time to process the rapid tick tick tick before it’s cut off by a BANG that sends little shiny particles everywhere, coating every nearby surface in bright, flashy sparkles of color and leaving behind the faint, sour tang of gunpowder in the air.

Frozen, the two agents stare through each others’ newly-decorated faces as if they had been expecting to be seeing the pearly gates instead. Cardinal is the first to break, dissolving into a fit of uproarious laughter. There’s an attempt at language from him, but it’s lost as Canary can’t help but sneeze, sending a new shower of shimmering rainbow across the surface of the desk. The sight is enough to crack a case of giggles out of him as well, and both are very incomprehensible for a good while.

“Wha- what the hell was THAT??” Cardinal cackles, trying to brush what he can off of his clothes, hair, face. Slight problem: the stuff was EVERYWHERE, and every pat or swipe only seemed to send it back into the air so it could hover, weigh its options, then resettle itself in its rightful place, clinging right to him again.

“Oh god, this is going to be a nightmare to get rid of, isn’t it?” Canary hides his smile behind a hand as he attempts to do the same, coming up with about the same level of success.

“If you insist.” Cardinal leans his chair back, taking a second to slowly scan potential targets. His gaze lands on something that seems simple enough for a first round, he’ll go easy on ’em.

He laughs nervously, scooting his chair just a liiittle bit farther away from the window. No reason.

“Why thank you, just pressed it myself this morning, gotta make sure I’m lookin’ nice and fresh as always!” He quickly side eyes Canary with a puzzled look.

A soft hum can be heard. The poor lad is thinking.

"Well, ah... might as well get to know you, since I'm tuned in. Are you two work partners? How long have you known each other?"

‘Rhodonite.’

How strange… the name, though unfamiliar, sounds a little too much like it might belong among an all too well-known group that they encounter all too often..

“Work partners, yes! On most occasions.” Canary nods.

“How long’s it been— six, seven years?” Cardinal squints, clearly doing some mental gymnastics- sorry, math. Canary half expects him to hold up his fingers and start counting. “.. Something like that. Yeah.”

“Six. Well, soon it will be with this August, that is.” Canary confirms. “I transferred here a few months after you started, remember?” He didn’t wait for an answer.

"What's one mission neither of you want to repeat?"

“One neither of us wants to repeat?” Canary echoes, looking to Cardinal with a raised eyebrow.

“Personally, I’m not sure I’d want to repeat any of them. I doubt we’d have the same luck twice with the way some of our plans have played out!” He chuckled lightly.

“Woah woah woah woah,” Cardinal’s smirk was almost plain evil. “Aren’t ya forgetting that one time-”

“No.”

“-when you got yourself playin’ hostage for a day or two?”

“I can’t seem to recall.”

“Uhuh. Birdbrain here had to be busted out by none other than yours truly, but only after he said the magic words. What were they again….?” He taps his chin thoughtfully, not even bothering to even TRY to stamp out the smugness in the crook of his smile.

Canary reaches over to yank the back of his chair down in return. Not enough to fully tip him, but enough to make him hiss and pathetically flail for the desk he had previously been propping his feet on to steady himself.

A cheery, feminine voice comes through

New recruit here, wonderin' if you had any advice for ending up with a codename you don't like? Is there some sorta way to change it? I -know- they gave me one I'd hate on purpose. Please 'n thank you!

“Morning!” Canary chirps back. “An unsavory codename, is it? I’m afraid there’s not much you can do to change it. From what I’ve seen, it’s best to either overcome it or fully embrace it and own it, both of which I doubt will come with a name change.. it might change your reputation, though.”

“Wouldn’t you know, birdboy.” Cardinal snickers under his breath.

“Yes, wouldn’t I know. Don’t mind him. I wasn’t a fan of the stupid nickname that someone decided to not only start calling me but also spread it around..” There’s a brief moment of silence before Cardinal notices Canary’s hard stare, to which his eyes widen and then dart away to be followed by a half-assed attempt at whistling.

As for what you can do for me… oh, not much. Just bored. You know how it is, cooped up in an office all day!

“Ha! Didn’t mean to make ya out to be some Big Bad, Othello.. Now that’s a name you don’t hear that often. Has a ring to it—unique.” Cardinal can’t write and speak at the same time to save his life, so Canary takes a hint when, after a failed scrawl, the notepad is slid to him with a pen. The name is neatly logged to be puzzled over.

(… this guy sounds unpleasant.)

The two glance at each other, a look of unease and slight confusion shared between them. They slide the mic away, even turning away from it in their chairs for good measure.

“Thought this was an encrypted channel?” Cardinal mutters.

“It is. It’s supposed to be..” Canary’s brow furrows. “Do we go tyto alba?”

“Nah—could just be some punk. Play it cool.”

With a nod, 032 turns back to the mic and brings it in again, his voice chipper as ever.

“Oh I got this- easy! Don’t leave ’em alone until you win them over with a winning smile and charming personality!” Cardinal chuckles, an audible groan coming from beside him.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s thoroughly insufferable. I would say that it depends entirely on the situation.. speaking in broad terms, however, I would say that it might help to get to know how to appeal to each of your cohorts individually for a time. Don’t bend over backwards for them, but try it and see what friends you might find. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, as they say.”

Canary stifles a smile as he swats at Cardinal’s miming of a puppet talking. He’s met with an eyeroll and a tapping of the wrist where a watch would sit.

An almost evil grin spreads across Cardinal's face as his partner hides his own with a pinch to his nosebridge.

"I dunno if it was my BEST, but it's up there."

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes it is. All I did was leave a note on his desk tellin' him 'Good luck finding it,'" Cardinal snickers. "He's the one who did all the work for me, had him turnin' his office upside down lookin' for 'it'."

"And you STILL won't tell me what it was!!" There is a tired exasperation in that protest, the kind one develops after having deep-cleaned his work station several times. There’s a moment of silence as Cardinal stares at him in disbelief, before cracking into a bout of quiet chuckles that quickly grows to a full bark of a laugh.

"There- there's no 'it', birdbrain! That's the point!" He crows between breaths as Canary's face falls to a look of defeated annoyance, an under eyelid twitching slightly.

"And here I thought you were s'posed to be the smart one."

The poor mic, after an agreement was made between the two agents, was taken by Canary first.

"It's a bit strange, really, I had originally joined the London branch as an accountant--at least, when I wasn't in the field. In fact, I never had a chance to be given a proper assignment there before I was transferred here due to severe understaffing, or so I was told." There was a sigh as he thought back to his brief training days.

"The training, in all honesty, was rigorous but not unbearable. There was a regiment to build strength, exercises to improve reaction time, lessons in weapon-handling, we touched on various forms of combat; really, much as you'd expect. I doubt they've changed much about the course since we did it. What say you? Was it different here?"

Cardinal snaps to attention with a shake of his head, having been zoning further and further out during his accomplice's rambling.

"Huh? Oh, yeah no, sounds about the same for me." He pauses as if to think, but he's really trying to remember what the first part of the question was.. right-

Some gentle taps sound through a scratchy microphone.

"One of you sounds awful familiar over there... Can you introduce yourselves? Please?

Canary slaps a hand over Cardinal’s mouth mid-quip, silencing him with rapid shushing noises as he turns the volume dial.

“My, I didn’t expect we’d receive anything this soon- Hello! We can hear you loud and clear, we're-” He’s cut short by Cardinal shoving his hand off and taking hold of the mic for himself.

“Agents 032 and 027, at your service. What can we help ya with?”