Sylas hadn't bothered to comb his hair properly after waking up from a night of fitful half-sleep. Opting to, instead, brush the tangle of strands to the side with his fingers to keep them out of his eyes; other than that he couldn't much care. Coupled with the peppery gruff that adorned his jawline, Sylas was a near picture perfect example of a man struggling to nurse a hangover to little success. The coffee helped, somewhat, as he sipped the scalding hot liquid and relished the burn of his tongue and throat as a reprieve from his pounding migraine. The rest of the bullpen was rather quiet, for once, with a majority of the other detectives attending briefings or out running down some criminal or another.<br/><br/>Closing his eyes, Sylas could still pick out the various smells of his fellow police officers or place the errand sounds to their corresponding sources. Darnel's aftershave, for example, had been the same for as long as he could remember well on a decade past. Sarah's nervous habit of tapping her fingernails on the desktop when she was stumped on a case and couldn't quite pull out the last piece to fill the puzzle. All were things a normal person would take for granted; if they'd noticed them at all. Important snippets of information, all, when paired with the right problem. Now? It was more a comforting distraction that helped lull Sylas's tired mind to sleep.<br/><br/>That was, of course, until he felt a hand tapping against his shoulder and followed by a woman's voice; one that he didn't quite know but was familiar with. Fighting to open his eyes, Sylas ran a hand over his face and through his messy hair. "Don't look like I've much of a choice, does it?" Sylas responded back in a tired voice that sounded more like a growl than anything else. There was tension there but, mostly, it stemmed from his less than amicable state than something to do with the woman's appearance. "So, who'd you manage to piss off?" He added with a rough chuckle, reaching for his coffee only to find it had gone cold. He drank it anyway in the hopes it would lubricate his throat at the least.<br/><br/>The desks had been made for two people to share as a means of fostering companionship between partners. There was plenty of room for a number of case files to be strewn about on the surface and a shared holoscreen for posting digital images and other information to pilfer through. Usually, one would sit across from the other and talk/plan through the dull white-blue holoscreen. Though, there were a few examples of other groupings that shared a single side of the desk in favor of the other being devoted to a pile of physical material like books or files.<br/><br/>"Gaia, eh?" Sylas sighed and set his emptied cup down on the desk and stared at it; fingers tipping it one way and the other. "Not a bad name. Defiantly not the worse, at least." Looking over at the woman, Sylas's bloodshot green eyes looked her over. Not in a sexual manner, though he did have to make a mental note of her attractiveness, rather, squaring up her physical apperance to commit to memory. Place a name to the face, as it were. "I'm sure your file was sent over at some point." He continued while gesturing at the general mess that was his workstation, "But, why don't you give me the bullet points instead? I feel if I were to read right now my eyes might truly bleed."