tushanshu_logs

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Characters: Hellboy, Liz and anyone!
Date: October 28th - November 4th. Just specify when the thread takes place in the subject line.
Location: All over Keeliai, then the mainland
Warnings/Ratings: n/a, will update as things happen

For almost a week the city of Keeliai had been bleeding ghosts like a severed artery, filling the streets with half-whispered questions and shouts of panic that died on the wind. Wisps of what once were people skittered around like discarded grocery bags caught in an updraft, and poltergeists rattled pots and pans in the cupboards.

Since the day he heard that first startled cry for help, Hellboy had run himself ragged cleansing the houses for the peace of mind of just about everyone in town. It wasn't a solution. If anything it only herded them around like cattle into the streets and canals, pushing them father to the edge of the city limits, but it didn't do a damn thing to staunch the flow.

No, if anything it was getting worse. Poltergeists in the Fire Sector smash all the windows within a block of the notorious red light district, attacking the working girls with shards of glass. Drownings in the Water Sector trace back to the ghost of a fisherman who, in a drunken daze, had drown in the canal many years ago. A little girl in Wood snaps her neck chasing what her playmates swear was a fairy, but turns out to be something far more sinister.

Things were getting a little frustrating, to say the least. The whole place was overrun, and Hellboy was still no closer to knowing how to stop it than the day he started. And the nature of the place--Between Life, Death, and Dreaming, the kedan had claimed--could mean these apparitions could very well be the new norm if things didn't start changing soon.

Then, suddenly, the ghosts started disappearing just as quickly as they came. By the end of the week the streets seemed almost eerily quiet, and Hellboy still didn't have a damn clue what happened. Though sometimes in this line of work, those details weren't always important. The important thing was that the ghosts were gone and things were finally starting to settle.

By nightfall on the thirty-first, Hellboy found himself out of a job again. So he trudged into the nearest bar somewhere in the Metal Sector, sore, hungry, and reeking of burning sage. There, he ordered himself a meal and a few drinks, then stumbled his way back home.

But things didn't end there. Whispers of the mainland were spreading like wildfire among the locals, and on the horizon, a gray coastline loomed in the distance. Soon people were making plans to scavenge for supplies and opportunities to study the strange new continent. But there was something about the place that had the people spooked, and Hellboy could practically taste something inexplicably wrong in the air. The stubs of his amputated horns resumed their familiar, distant ache, and the constant weight of his right hand diminished with every mile they inched closer. Something horrible was waiting for them out on that horizon, and Hellboy knew it in his bones that it was his duty to go out there and meet it.

He'd do his damndest to protect the people who ventured out onto the other side, no matter what might be out there, because that's just what he does.

So he started packing. Though he liked to travel light, he made sure Harry's gun was in working order after the damage it took from the salt water when he first arrived, and scoured the open market hunting for herbs and kedan charms that might prove useful. He didn't have to worry much about the other stuff.

Once that was taken care of, he and Liz began the long trek to the edge of Tu Vishan, where the temperature had risen exponentially to the point of sweltering, and cagey-looking kedan ferried travelers onto the barren shore. The little wooden boat rocked dangerously as Hellboy clambered aboard with Liz in tow. The kedan responsible for getting them across had been visibly shaking despite the heat, his eyes darting across the coastline like frantic insects.

"You all right, pal?" Hellboy asked. But the man kept rowing in silence. For a moment, he thought he just wouldn't answer.

"This is a bad place. You Foreigners wouldn't understand until you saw it yourself."

That peeked his interested. "Saw what?"

"The Llothi."

"What's the Llothi?"

The man's shaking had worsened to the point where he was having trouble holding the oar. He never took his eyes off the shore. "A monster. Big. Hungry. They travel in pairs."

Yeah, he didn't like the sound of that. But as always, Hellboy did his best to maintain an air of easy confidence. "Great. Anything else I need to know?"

The man only shook his head as the boat glided onto the gravel beach. It was hard to tell if he really had no other warnings, or if he was just scared speechless. It was a wonder this guy was out here at all.

Hellboy turned his gaze to Liz. "You ready?"

Cliff Notes Version: Hellboy wandered around the entirety of Keeliai for a week chasing ghosts, then struck out with Liz for the mainland. So yes. This is pretty much a whole week's worth of Stuff Hellboy's Done crammed into one log. Absolutely feel free to have your characters bump into him at any time during this whole mess, or even later on while he's with Liz during their journey across the mainland.

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"As much as I'm going to be." The truth of the matter is that one can never be completely ready for what's going to happen, especially in an unknown place. Still, it would be a lie to say that Liz isn't looking forward to this at least a little bit. It serves as a distraction from everything that's happened before, and something like that is always appreciated.

"I wonder if that Llothi thing is any more difficult than the things we normally deal with."

The boat rocks as Hellboy steps out onto the shore, eyes narrowed as he surveys the scorched landscape, the black sand beaches, the empty skyline. Not even the slightest breeze stirs. Yeah. This could get interesting.

"Guess we'll find out."

But before he can make his way onto the beach, the man with the boat catches his arm. There's desperation in his expression.

"Please," he begs, offering him a crumpled piece of paper, "My daughter is sick. The healers say this plant will help her..."

Hellboy studies the man for a silent moment, hoping he isn't pulling his leg. He's had people offering to pay him to gather stuff from the mainland all week, but he wasn't going out there to make a buck, and he'd turned down everyone so far. But the pleading look in the man's eyes has him taking the paper anyway. On it is an artful drawing of a plant that looks something like an orchid. "Sure, why not."

A moment later, the man's pushed his boat back to sea, and they're alone in the odd, muted silence. Hellboy's only grateful the man hasn't thanked him yet. Finding a plant in a place like this is probably harder than it sounds.

He tucks the paper into his belt and nods at Liz. "Let's go see what we can stir up."

Liz eyes the drawing for a moment, before Hellboy stuffs the piece of paper back into his belt. So along with going out to see just what else is waiting for them here, they also have to find a plant that supposedly thrives in this wasteland. Not that she's upset about it, though. If they can find something to help a sick little girl, then she's ready and willing to get the job done.

"Do you know if anybody has an idea of just how big this place is? Because for all we know, we might need more than just a day to get around."

"No idea," he says, his eyes on the ground as they make their way across the beach. Despite the ocean, the air is dry enough to turn the sand into slate that crunches under his hooves like broken floor tiles. There's a rise visible about a mile and a half inland. Hopefully they'll get something of a bird's eye view of the place once they reach it. "I tried asking the kedan, but it's the same old song and dance. Nobody wants to talk about it."

Ororo's dealt with a lot of things out there in the wide world of mutants, but these ghosts have been creeping her out steadily. The fact that they've disappeared isn't anything to her, because they could have gone quietly in the night or, given the day, maybe they were eaten by something bigger and scarier.

Which is a source of caution as she moves though the Metal Sector, looking to get back home to Earth before the hour gets too late. That's when she sees him, coming around a corner to a hulking, red demon of some sort and her eyes go wide. Some sensible part of her remembers seeing someone like him around, but on the heels of ghosts and Hallowe'en? No. It's a flight-or-fight response that comes up and she takes a step back.

"Look, I don't want trouble," she says, her eyes taking on a soft glow as her mutation begins to shift the charge in the air. "Just take whatever ghosts you ate and go back to the nether."

Hellboy's feeling pretty good as he makes his way back to his suite. It's that satisfied kind of tired after a long week of work, a good meal, and a pitcher or two of beer to take the edge off. He still has no idea what the hell all of that was about, but he's not worrying about that now.

He's caught by surprise as he rounds a corner and finds himself face-to-face with a woman who's obviously been caught off guard by his appearance. It's something he's pretty used to by now, but it never ceases to make him feel a little self-conscious, and he finds himself going through all the motions he only hopes makes him look less threatening. The tail is tucked into the folds of his trench coat, shoulders hunched, that massive stone hand pulled close beside him. None of this does anything to help and he knows it, but at least it's something.

It's hard to tell if this woman's a Foreigner or a kedan with those glowing eyes, but by her reaction, Hellboy guesses Foreigner. Maybe one of the ones with what the Bureau would call "special talents".

Either way he's not much in a mood for trouble either. He keeps his voice low, holding up his normal hand in what he hopes is a peaceful gesture. "I think you've got the wrong guy." He cocks his head. "I mean, eating ghosts? You know they're nothing but empty calories."

Either he's got sass in full gear or he means it about the ghosts, which raises the question of what isn't empty calories to a guy his size. Ororo puts her hands up cautiously, leaning back on her heel as she offers a weak smile to deter. "Fresh out of human sacrifices though," she says, "so I guess you're going home hungry."

The fact he's drawing in, reducing his stature to something less formidable, and narrowing the profile of his arm are all things she notices. It's a peripheral thing and takes a slight edge off the adrenaline surge, but she's not sure what to think. Sure this can't be one of the Foreigners? Well, maybe she needs to be more open-minded about it, because she's a mutant and hardly the standard when it comes to her appearance. It burns a bit of shame in her mind at being so abrupt to assuming he's a threat, but with the shapeshifting kedan and the troubles this place has caused, it's easy and she's not ready to give up the caution.

"Huh," he muses, his normal hand moving to his chin, thumb idly stroking his goatee. "Good thing I filled up on noodles."

He hopes it's obvious now that he's kidding. In these situations it's just easier to crack a few jokes than have to explain himself. Either way it's awkward and makes him feel even less human than he usually does. But he doesn't let that show. No, he's the picture of confidence even as he tries to make himself smaller. Unshakeable.

"Just came from the Lucky Dragon," he says, jutting a thumb over his shoulder. "Best noodle place in town."

And the sake's pretty damn strong too. It's enough to keep him in fairly good spirits even now.

Edited 2012-11-15 23:08 (UTC)

Okay. If he's a kedan, he's pretty chill about it. If he's a demon summoned by all these ghosts, he must be Italian. Or Asian. Maybe he's some sort of many-tailed fox demon sealed inside a demon packaging?

Or maybe she's taking this thinking deal a few degrees too far. Many-tailed fox demon? Her weak smile cracks a bit wider, taking on a sheepish cant. "Noodles?" she echoes that word with a measure less caution and a measure more sass. "What kind of thing that goes bump-in-the-night accepts noodles as a sacrifice?"

There is a beat and she puts up her hand, palm held out. "Ororo," she adds with a grimace. "Sorry about the human sacrifice bit. All these ghosts have me on edge."

"It's all right," he says. Even though it really isn't. It still makes him feel like crap, but he just doesn't let himself acknowledge it. At least at home people largely know who he is. He has to travel pretty far out to get this kind of reception. Most people keep their fear to themselves, tone down the whole spawn of Satan spiel in his presence, and that makes it easy for him to forget how much he really sticks out sometimes. Living amongst the kedan was a lot of the same. His appearance blended right in with the freakier residents. Most of them didn't even bat an eye at him.

That's how he decides this girl is probably a Foreigner. It'd take a Foreigner to draw the line past freaky and go straight for demonic.

Still, he keeps his voice genial. It's not her fault, after all. "Name's Hellboy. And I know it's hard to believe, but I get that a lot."

The more she lingers -- without being eaten alive, to boot -- the more that she thinks this guy's better than he looks at least. And, in a roundabout fashion, the worse she feels about the reaction. How different is he from Hank? She'd never turn away from Hank and that alone tells her how badly she's handled this.

Way to go, Ororo. Run into another mutant and completely flub the pass.

She tries to recover though, a brow arching up and a knowing smile touching her lips. "I know the feeling. Storm's my 'other' name and you'd never guess why."

He considers this a moment, but really has no idea what she's getting at there. So he just goes for another joke. They seem to be in large supply tonight, and you could probably blame the booze for that. "You're a weather girl in your free time?"

He's not sure if she can tell he's a little drunk, but he's doing his best to act sober, at least. He just hopes he's coming across as straight-laced as he hopes he is.

That earns a laugh and she puts her hands up on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, something like that," she says, looking up at the night sky. "Only, I'm always right."

His humour's obviously dry, what with the comments about eating and now the weather, but she can't tell offhand whether he had much to drink with dinner. There's a touch of alcohol in the air, sure, but that's not always a tell. A big guy like him and she bets he'd need to marinate in booze to get a slight buzz -- like Colossus would, she reckons.

Yep, pretty much. The smell of sake on his breath would be hard to miss, but he's not factoring that part in.

"Huh," he muses, still not sure how that has to do with anything. "Don't tell me you're a psychic."

God damn how much does he hate psychics. He's worked with plenty of talented, tried-and-true psychics before, but in his experience, they're nothing but a pain in the ass. He hates the idea that people can know everything about you just by being in the same room. And being who he is, there's plenty of things he'd rather people not know.

Okay, that time an eyebrow goes up and she wonders if she's not being obvious enough. Or maybe he's just not from a place that has her kind of people around, but she'd bet otherwise based on his appearance.

She denies it with a shake of her head. "My professor kind of is, but not me," she says, not sure how much more obvious she can be about this - or, really, how much it matters. "I'm just trying to say I know what it's like, having a weird name."

Well, now he's sort of getting it. It's not all that common to have that kind of power where he comes from, and it's definitely not common to go by aliases. Hellboy's the name his father gave him, and as often as it leads to some awkward conversation, he's grown to like it.

He just shrugs. "Yeah..."

Then he sighs, stealing a quick glance over his shoulder before running his normal hand over his scalp. It's a very self-aware, almost nervous gesture. "Listen, kid. Sorry if I scared you earlier. Where you going somewhere?"

"Just back to Earth Sector," she says with a shrug. Now that he doesn't seem like a giant harbinger of Hell and doom, Ororo's taking a different look at him. The 'giant' still applies and the 'Hell' (by the self-admitted name), but his motions are oddly human for his appearance and he looks...

Well, looks kind of like how she's felt in the midst of a crowd of humans.

"It's late," she adds, gesturing up at the sky. "It's not like there's school in the morning, but I like my Vitamin D, y'know?" By sitting in the sunlight as much as possible, even if it takes a bit of nudging to keep the clouds off her at the time. Either way, she gets the feeling like she interrupted his walk home just as much as he did hers and that makes it a good excuse for splitting. "And... Sorry about the whole demonic misunderstanding. I'll buy you lunch sometime to make up for it?"

Edited (English, y u foil me (fuu)) 2012-12-08 02:05 (UTC)

"Don't worry about it," he says, dropping his hand back down to his side. Guess he should probably get going. It's been a while since he's had any kind of decent sleep, and now that the ghosts are gone, he just might give it a try.

As he starts back on his way toward his suite, he waves a little over his shoulder with that big stone hand. "Stay safe."

He isn't the worst thing lurking these streets at night, by far.

For all that it be a thing that Kitty did end up involved with things that had a tendency to be larger than they actually were on first sight, she did try to be well informed and prepared. Her friends back home helped out with that; it was easy to begin to have some idea of what was behind things when it was just a few hours of research or phone call away.

Here, though, that wasn't really the case. All of the other Foreigners here seemed to come from different worlds; if there was anyone from home, she hadn't found out yet.

Either way, the night after the first network posts talking about ghosts started showing up, the strange glowing lights that gently bobbed over the immense tree branches outside the windows of her suite suddenly seemed far less friendly, and more ominous.

The next day, after she finished her work shift, Kitty purchased a jar and managed, albeit with some difficulty, to find a butcher's shop where she could get animal blood. It took some convincing that it wasn't for anything malignant, which was understanding, if frustrating. The appearance of ghosts seemed to have scared most of the kedan. The dust from a ruin was far easier to find, thanks to the storm.

It wasn't too long before she had mixed up the protection potion that she learned from Odysseus Grant. It still reeked, but the lack of disgusted kedan passing by suggested that it wasn't actually that strong to normal senses- at least from that far away. Supernatural based psychic type senses and heightened ones would though, which was why Kitty's face was scrunched up between the smell and concentrating on dripping the spell off of a ladle around the base of trees that made up WO-2B.

At around the halfway mark, she sees him, red and huge, and obviously not human. Or animal. Whoa. Inside, Wolf tensed up, torn between tucking tail and running, or protecting her territory. Kitty stood up fully, the jar of protective potion clutched with one hand, the dripping ladle in the other. "Are you behind this? The ghost thing? Because if you are, I think I filled my 'malevolent spirit' quota before I got here, thanks." The sarcasm in her voice didn't fully manage to cover her apprehension.

Edited (I can read, I swear. ) 2012-11-21 21:31 (UTC)

It had been a bad day in the Wood Sector, and circumstances surrounding a little girl's death at the hands of these ghosts had put him in a pretty sour mood. Arriving too late to the scene, then having to explain to the grieving mother what had happened left him brooding and frustrated, craving nothing more than a good, stiff drink.

But the job wasn't over yet. Far as he knows it may never be over, but chasing ghosts kept him busy. Kept his mind off other things. And as long as they kept being a problem, he had no plans of stopping his efforts to help.

This was the mood he was in as he trudges his way through the massive treehouses of the Foreigner's section of Wood, a cigarette in his mouth and senses fine-tuned to any hint of trouble. It's the scent of blood and the more unconscious, visceral draw toward the paranormal that moves his path toward Kitty's ritual.

He finds himself standing in the road just a few yards from a girl holding a jar of blood and a dripping ladle, the grass stained crimson around the base of the trees.

He watches her steadily for a moment with unblinking, golden eyes and puffs on his cigarette. After a long pause, he answers. "Don't look at me."

Tilting his head toward the mess around the trees, he silently hopes that's not human blood. Or kedan, for that matter. "Expecting vampires?"

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