The Times, They Are a-Changin'

[histruename]

Characters: Hellboy and OPEN!
Date: June 9th - 14th
Location: All over Keeliai
Situation: Hellboy reclaims his bearings


After his short trip through the city, still damp from the basin he'd been summoned from, there was no denying things have changed. There’s a palpable darkness hanging over Keeliai, a new wariness in the eyes of its people, a shadow cast by the blackened palace looming on its horizon. Cultists hiss and scream with their signs and weapons on street corners. Others scurry past like scared animals, head down, looking at no one.

Less than a year ago, Keeliai was a different place, but they had known what was coming. Evandau had warned him of the ancient force of evil they’d been brought here to fight. And back then, Hellboy had offered to go find it, to do everything he could to stop it. But things are rarely that easy.

Evandau had said that the thing had to come to them, that they had to sit and wait with their hands tied before they could even think to fight it. It pissed him off then, and it pisses him off even more now. Because this is the end result, and innocent people are paying for it in blood.

He’s lost too much time. It’s time to get back to work.

Soon as he gets his bearings, gets some much-needed rest and scopes out his new suite in Earth, Hellboy takes off into the city, wanders back to the old noodle shop in the Metal Sector he used to frequent. The shop’s still there, and so is the old man who runs it. Business is bad, and most of the kedan have been relocated to the former Foreigner housing, but things like this just never change.

It's nice to have an anchor in this place, something familiar where lately, he hasn't been afforded that luxury. Keyun has always been nice to him. But now he's much more withered than before, his veined hands trembling over the hot bowls, spilling some of the broth.

Times are hard, and maybe there's still very little he can do to help. But in a small way, Hellboy's glad he's back, because these are people worth fighting for.

((Feel free to ambush Hellboy in the street, at the noodle shop, or even at the market perusing for charms and other odds and ends. He'll be looking for people to talk to about the happenings around Keeliai that he's missed, and will offer to pay for a meal or drinks to whoever's willing. I may put up some headers later for ease of use.))

Comments

[whitelotustile]

Iroh liked to try every sort of food that the kedan offered, and Keelai certainly provided. So today he was sampling the wares of Keyun's noodle shop. He nodded to Hellboy: Iroh was used to the kedan looking strange, so had adapted to seeing things that would go remarked on back in Ba Sing Sei.

"Good afternoon. Are you eating alone?"

[histruename]

Just like old times, Hellboy's sat himself at the bar in the mostly-empty restaurant, a huge bowl of noodles set in front of him, drinking from a cold glass of beer. It's almost funny, the way his huge frame's perched precariously on the bar stool, his long tail draped over the back.

It twitches at the old man's greeting. Setting down his glass, Hellboy turns and looks at the guy with yellow eyes that glow faintly in the dim light, offering him a curt nod.

"I don't mind company, if that's what you're asking."

[whitelotustile]

"It is," Iroh said. "I wouldn't want to intrude if you have company coming, but it is such a shame to eat a good meal alone."

Iroh isn't a tall man. He's solidly built, and shows no sign of lost agility with age as he takes the stool next to Hellboy.

"My name is Iroh. I run a tea shop over in the Fire Sector."

[histruename]

"Hellboy," he rumbles, picking up his glass again. "You been here a while, Iroh?"

[whitelotustile]

"Six months, more or less," Iroh said. "Since winter, or at least a trip into more polar waters."

[histruename]

Nodding briefly, Hellboy takes another long pull from his beer glass, draining it in one. When he places the empty glass on the bar top, he motions to Keyun for another.

"That's about as long as I figure I'm missing. More, probably. A lot's changed around here from what I remember."

[whitelotustile]

"A lot's changed since I arrived here, true, and I lived through it."

[duelkatana]

Buildings of dark chrome and sleek, gunmetal walls as far as the eye can see. The Metal Sector is a brilliant, shining place during the day, and when night begins to settle, the hard shimmer that echoes throughout the Sector fades. Splashes of color reflect across the windows - red, orange, purple, painting the starkly utilitarian Metal with the sky's sleepy colors.

It is alive, and cold, and bright and overwhelming. Leonardo had only just gotten used to it when he'd returned to Water for a time several days ago, and now that he's back, he fiercely misses his murmuring canals and soft kedan bustle all over again.

The first morning he wakes up able to see straight again, he spends a few minutes beneath his lantern, watching the soft glow flicker within its paper walls. Then - before his brother can find him and forcibly strap him to his bed - he slings his swords over his shell, ties his mask on, and pulls a spare, oversized jacket from the closet that fits awkwardly around his shell. His hand smoothing over the golden dragon embroidered across the front, he turns and leaves to shake the cobwebs out of his brain.

The morning colors of Metal are similar to night's - so for now, he can handle them. He'll be home within the hour.

Leonardo has walked the roads in Water many, many times, but this is his first seeing Metal from this perspective. The roads are as populated as Water's on a busy day, which isn't saying much, but it's more than he's used to - he tries to stick to the back roads, weaving between busy pedestrians, but still he finds himself bumping shoulders with irritated kedan that hiss at him before scurrying along.

Somehow, that reminds him more of New York than Water ever did.

It takes the edge off of the discomfort. Leo walks for a good half hour, mapping out the Sector from the ground in his mind, but the sun is getting higher and he thinks it's about time to head back. Yet just as he turns westward towards his suite, a loud crash and rolling metal startles him into looking into a back alley just to his left.

There's an old kedan man half-bent against the wall, an overturned garbage bin and a pile of trash at his feet. Grumbling under his breath, he grapples a burst-open trash bag with shaky hands; a sharp breath escapes him when he only succeeds in causing more garbage to tumble onto the ground.

It's almost frightening, how easily Leo's feet carry him towards this complete stranger - as if tugging at his heartstrings is enough to convince him to approach these days. He tries not to think about it; no one in the world would leave a feeble elder to struggle if they actually had the option otherwise, right? Of course not.

"Hey," he calls softly as he approaches. He throws a look over his shoulder to the streets, then goes closer, gently putting his hands on the old man and helping him stand straight. "You all right?"

Yes, yes, fine, the man says, his head shaking in embarrassment. Not as young as he used to be. Leo listens with concern, eyes darting away and back as he struggles to make a decision. Eventually, his empathy overrides that nineteen-year programming; he gently takes the elderly kedan's shoulders and guides him back into the building, where the warm scent of food swallows them whole.

"Looks like you could use a break," he suggests softly.

[histruename]

Hellboy's in his usual spot when they walk in, nursing his first glass of beer of the day. He'd heard the banging, but didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary until he sees Keyun come back in, looking a little shaken and guided by someone he's never seen before.

Though his expression is almost unreadable, following their path to the bar with a level, golden gaze, there's both surprise and concern in his voice.

"Everything all right?"

[duelkatana]

As they step into the kitchen behind the counter, the old kedan man turns and politely pushes Leo's grip down from his shoulder, insisting that he's quite all right. Leo doesn't miss the tremor still running through that hand, so he opens his mouth to protest further, but then a deep, rumbling voice snaps his attention to someone sitting nearby.

He blanches, only for a moment, at the large red man with a glass of beer in front of him. The deep red skin and yellow eyes instantly whisper demon into his mind - certainly he's encountered enough in his life not to be a little superstitious - and he stops in place, hands twitching with the suppressed reflex to draw swords. But when he takes a closer look, the urge dies down almost completely. The guy is sitting here, in a noodle shop, with a beer. That's possibly one of the most un-demonic things someone can do. His gaze flits from the old kedan to the red guy a few times, but the kedan solves the problem for him by speaking up first.

"Yes, I am fine. The boy here is overly eager to help his elders." He chuckles in amusement and gestures to a seat near the red man's. "Go on, child; sit."

It takes Leo a moment to realize the kedan is talking to him, and when he does, he can't help but balk at the notion of... sitting around in public. At a noodle shop. And however much he'd like to turn around and run right back out through the back entrance, an invitation is an invitation, and it would be horribly rude not to accept. So he slides around the counter and takes the indicated spot, leaving just one seat between him and the big red guy. Please don't let this be awkward.

[histruename]

"It's those damn Foreigners," he drawls, shaking his head. But there's obvious amusement in his voice, and Keyun starts chuckling as he skirts behind the kitchen wall. "At least this one's not wearing spandex."

The kid is nervous. He can tell, the way he's twitching, sits with one seat between them, wringing his hands. Hellboy tries not to return the stares, only watches him out of the corner of his eye. It's a dead ringer for a kappa, but it'd be pretty far away from any water where they are, and he hasn't seen a bowl on the top of his head yet, so he's pretty sure they're safe. Kid seems to be more scared of them than anything.

As steam and good cooking smells rise from behind the low kitchen wall, Hellboy continues the conversation, turning to Leonardo without a hitch.

"You know yesterday I was walking down the street and I had a guy fly right in and ask me if I was a good guy or a bad guy. Just like that."

[duelkatana]

To his credit, Leo doesn't jump when the demon-man speaks again. He stiffens, hands stilling briefly on the wooden counter, but he manages to hide his surprise and discomfort fairly well - at least, he thinks so.

Hey, he'll take what he can get. Sitting alone in a public place, surrounded by strangers... he'd be jumping out of his shell right now if he had an inch less discipline.

Then the guy's words actually register, and a feeling that's close to shame burns in his chest. He of all people should know how ignorant it is to judge someone solely by their appearance. This guy sounds friendly, even; a little rough, sure, but amicable all the same.

Remorsefully, he dips his head. "Sorry; I didn't mean to stare. I was... just caught a bit off-guard."

[histruename]

Too many heroes, Keyun says over the bang and clatter of pots, oblivious to the sudden shift in the conversation. Good for times of fighting. Bad for everything else. They stir up too much trouble.

"Hey, what does that say about me?" Hellboy jabs back.

The old man only mocks a rude gesture with a ladle over the half-wall, making Hellboy bark out a laugh.

"Don't worry about it," he says like it's an afterthought, leaning one elbow on the bartop, and never losing even a hint of mirth. "Hope you're hungry, 'cause Keyun here can make a mean bowl of noodles."

[andaway]

Clark guessed he couldn’t complain, all things considered. The lanterns and the fact that their souls had been trapped there since the moment they had landed on the turtle had been a very unpleasant surprise… but at least now they know and are able to do whatever they can to protect her, and even though he had been forced to move at least he’d been allowed to live with Lois. Evandau had also allowed them to move the radio, which had shown Clark hey were eager to collaborate.

The only problem was that their suite had kind of become a mess. There were cables everywhere, and both Lois’s and Clark’s room were full of the machinery needed to get it running. Clark, who had always been kind of a neat freak was actually kind of uncomfortable around such a mess, but he guessed it couldn’t be helped. And at least since Lois and him were the only ones living there it wouldn’t bother anyone else.

Or at least it hadn’t, until then.

“Uh, hello” He offered, once the new inhabitant of the suite was brought to his room. “I’m sorry everything’s such a mess. If anything bothers you, we’ll move it. And, uh, welcome?”

[histruename]

Nobody ever expects a seven foot tall demon guy to walk through your door. Even back in his Bureau days, where his fame and a dossier would precede him to certain jobs, people still were surprised to meet him face-to-face.

At least here, most people got desensitized by the kedan. It made things easier, in a way. But there's still something about the red skin and cloven feet that can make people uneasy.

It's never really bothered Hellboy much. He can't blame them, really. That's why he tries to be as amicable as possible in situations like this; not only because of the way he looked, but because he can't help feeling like he's intruding a little.

"Thanks," he says, offering his normal hand for a somewhat awkward handshake. "The name's Hellboy. Don't worry about the mess. It just looks like you guys are in the middle of something."

[andaway]

Clark actually has to force himself to look at least slightly shocked, when in his Clark Kent persona. When one of your good friends and teammates is a shafeshifting green alien (and that isn't even the weirdest he's seen) your view on how people should look like is a little different. But people would wonder about a mild mannered reporter not reacting to this kind of thing, so he has to at least look slightly startled.

He shakes the hand with a sheepish grin, motioning around with his free hand.

"This is all for the radio, no one shared the suite so we kind of ended up taking over it. We're clear up some space soon, now that you've joined us. I'm Clark, Clark Kent, and my wife name's Lois Lane. You'll probably get to meet her soon."

[histruename]

Hellboy grips Clark's hand for a second longer, squinting critically at the guy for a long moment before letting go.

"You're kidding," he says levelly. There's not even a hint of questioning in his voice. This is obviously some kind of joke.

[andaway]

He didn't know what he'd been expecting- nothing specific, really: people didn't react to meeting Clark Kent back at home and they definitely didn't in here. It was just a name like any other.

"I'm not. Why should I?"

[histruename]

"Come on. Clark Kent... Lois Lane...," he tilts his head, waiting for the guy to crack.

But the guy just looks at him, just as surprised and confused and honest as ever. And that's when he starts taking it in--the glasses, the cheesy haircut--and his expression goes deadpan as ever.

"...You're serious."

He's standing in front of God damn Superman.

[shorttempered]

Mark loved to fly. There was absolutely nothing that beat the feeling of wind in his hair as he whipped between the buildings of Keeliai. Sure, he probably should be on patrol, but there was an entire island full of superheroes other than him out there, and him taking the time out to just enjoy himself wouldn't put anyone in danger.

No sooner does the thought cross his mind does he catch sight of a giant red guy walking through the Earth sector. Huh. Never seen him around before. He circled around, this time a little lower, to get a better look. This guy sort of looked like a demon, but that didn't necessarily mean it was a bad thing. Firebreather looked like a demon too, after all. Mark slowed his decent until he was hovering maybe a foot above Hellboy, and gave a neighborly wave.

"Hey there, I'm Invincible. I don't mean to be rude, but I just have to check--good guy or bad guy?"

[histruename]

Hellboy's seen a lot of strange things in his days, but the amount of people able to just jump off a building and fly around this place is still a little unnerving. He tends to associate that ability with witches, or spirits, or other nasty things that just stir up trouble.

What he's still not used to is the amount of superheroes--spandex suits and all--that seem to jump right out of the pages of his old comic books.

Though he isn't startled, he's definitely taken aback by the kid hovering a good eight feet off the ground, questioning him about his intentions.

So he stops for a second, puts up his normal hand like he's swearing an oath, and answers with more than a little amusement in his voice.

"One of the good guys. Promise."

[shorttempered]

Mark chuckles at that, though he tries to hide it.

"I don't know.... that sounds just like something a clever bad guy would say."

But he was just joking. And as a sign of trust he lowers himself fully until he's standing on turtle firma and stares up at the large red demon guy.

"So you got a name?"

[histruename]

"And yet we still made it to the introductions," he says. And though he doesn't smile, his stony expression hardly doing as much as a twitch, there's still obvious teasing in his voice.

He offers his normal hand for an awkward, left-handed handshake. The other, massive and seemingly carved from red stone, remains completely still at his side. "It's Hellboy."

[shorttempered]

Mark shrugged.

"What can I say? I'm a bad superhero--too trusting. Or does that make me a good one? Never did learn the difference."

He goes to lift his right hand only to realize his mistake, and he quickly drops it in favor of raising his left one for the handshake.

"I'm Invincible. Otherwise known as Mark Grayson."

[histruename]

Invincible, Huh? He would have a thing or two to say about the name, but with a name like Hellboy, that's an avenue he'd just rather not open.

"Guess that depends on who you trust," he rumbles, gripping the boy's hand before letting go. "Though I thought superheroes never gave their real names."