mr. boy if you're nasty (
hellshaped) wrote in
maskormenacelogs2014-04-14 01:10 pm
[OPEN] i'm going down to sleep
WHO: Hellboy and YOU
WHERE: Heropa, FL: Local University, Downtown, and Residence #022
WHEN: Today! Monday!! All day!!!
WHAT: After acclimating over the weekend, it's Hellboy's first Monday. Regular employment is horrible.
WARNINGS: probably harmless
A. LOCAL UNIVERSITY. MORNING.
WHERE: Heropa, FL: Local University, Downtown, and Residence #022
WHEN: Today! Monday!! All day!!!
WHAT: After acclimating over the weekend, it's Hellboy's first Monday. Regular employment is horrible.
WARNINGS: probably harmless
A. LOCAL UNIVERSITY. MORNING.
[It's Hellboy's first foray into the workforce and he's doing his best.B. DOWNTOWN HEROPA. LUNCHTIME.
Of course, he wondered if the pencil pusher in charge of assigning jobs had a really sick sense of humor. But maybe that's too cynical. It's never really a good idea to go into a new experience negatively -- it'll color the whole thing, set it up for failure. But still. Pagan Studies Research Assistant. Really.
Not even Head Researcher.
But he's doing his best. He'd only had one job his entire life -- it wasn't like he could just submit a resume for a secretary gig or anything -- and he was pretty damn suited to it, so it's a little disorienting to get thrown into something like this. Not only is it not slapping monsters in the face, but it's research. He hated to study. Sometimes he thought he was allergic to it. There was a reason Hellboy was a field agent and not in Research back at the Bureau.
So he's doing his best, but he's also taking frequent breaks. It's not like they'll miss an assistant too much anyway, and besides, sitting in a cramped little room on a tiny stool was surrounded by books was giving him a headache. Maybe it was the dust. Or maybe he actually did have an allergy to studying.
Regardless, more often than not, he's just sort of wandering the university under the guise of getting a better idea of the layout. Either his co-workers don't care enough to argue or are too smitten with him to realize he's pretty much just shirking his duties, but they don't really stop him.
Which is fine. He hated to study, but he had an appreciation for architecture.]
[After spending a large portion of his workday not actually working, Hellboy has gone to the city for lunch. Mostly because he didn't bring anything and the idea of eating twenty snack cakes from the vending machine didn't really ping him, but also because he needed to take a break. A long break.C. RESIDENCE #022. EVENING. (closed to roommates)
And maybe there's a Thai restaurant around here or something, he figures. Khao soi wouldn't make up for everything else, not really, but it'd be a start.
He's currently just sort of walking up and down the streets, tail swinging behind him, ignoring the stares he's getting. He's halfway looking for a restaurant and halfway just trying to get a better idea of what this place is like -- he was no stranger to travel, to finding his way around different cities all over the world, but Fairfield was always home. This place, Heropa, is nice enough -- but it's not home. So it's a little weird, but he's trying to make the best of it for the time being.]
[Okay, the job and the new city were things he could get used to. But actually having roommates is something that Hellboy's still a little wary about. Maybe because he's used to his privacy, but also because he just doesn't know what these people are like yet. Not that he's particularly worried about it; if anyone tried to start something, he's pretty confident that he can take care of it. But he sort of skipped the whole communal living part of life, and he's not too keen on regressing to college freshman. There are certain perks to having been full grown at age eight.
He doesn't have shoes to remove at the door, but he steps carefully so as not to crack or scuff the floor with his hooves as he heads toward the stairs.]

a. university library, reference section
...Where, of course, the old standards manual she wants is both out of her reach and represents a decent fraction of her own body weight. The world is not designed for three year olds. She's about to levitate it down and draw all the unwanted attention use of her powers brings when she spots Hellboy and trots over to him, undeterred by his demonic appearance.]
Excuse me. Could you help me get a book down, please?
[Val looks for all the world like a normal child her age, but her speech is crystal-clear and adult, and, well, she's in the reference section of a university library, fearlessly approaching a guy who does a good Satan impression. It's distinctly possible she's not normal.]
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But that's neither here nor there.
Generally speaking, he's pretty used to his appearance not being a big deal. Being somewhat of a scientific oddity just slightly out of the spotlight will do that to you. It's the people who stare that make him uncomfortable -- and even worse are the people who overcompensate about it, the people who are overly curious or ask a lot of questions or infer that they know things. Those people, in his experience, are always the ones to be wary about.
But this girl doesn't really seem too concerned about his appearance, apart from maybe the fact that he's tall. In the grand scheme of things, he's been singled out for much worse. He peers down at her curiously, head tilted to one side.]
I can sure try my best, anyway.
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Well, failing that, I can always stand on your shoulders.
[Kidding on the square, really. There'll be no need for a bizarre human pyramid performance, but if there were...Val does not let minor obstacles deter her.
Now that everything is settled to her satisfaction, she turns and starts back for the shelves, assuming that Hellboy will follow. There's a job to be done, and if he wants to make small talk, he can do it while walking.
Besides, she needs a head start or he'll outpace her in two steps.]
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( b ) AGAIN. sort of. :(
While not that religious, she does refrain from food today and walks by the restaurant, hardly tempted by the delicious scent of noodles coming out of the open door. Her only thought is if Nill would have liked some takeout, but Chinese is her favourite, so she can pick up something for her later on.
It's not hard to spot a large, red creature making its (his she quickly corrects after observing masculine features) way down the street. She slows down, unable to tear her eyes off him.
Those are most definitely hooves, a long and thick tail, but the lack of horns throws her. She's not drugged and she's definitely not having a completely unrelated religious experience on the first day of Passover. ]
Huh.
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It's weird -- it was March when he got zapped here, March in Romania, and now it's April in Florida. Apart from the decades later in an alternate universe thing, you wouldn't think the month of 'lost time' would affect him that much, but truth be told, he's sort of felt disoriented ever since they thrust a file folder in his hands.
Maybe that's normal, though. It's not like he's really gone out of his way to commiserate.
Being tall has its advantages -- he's closer to storefront signage, and so he's pretty sure he sees 'Thai something-or-other' down the street, which is a good sign. Less of a good sign is this woman staring at him, which ordinarily he'd ignore, but a) she's a redhead and b) she actually made a verbal noise. Like. She did that.
So. He tips his head toward her and if he actually had eyebrows to raise, he'd be doing that.] I'm single, in case you were wondering.
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I'm not your type, in case you were wondering.
[ Two can play at that.
... Did a big red demon-like creature actually just hit on her? ]
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b
Well, a dog of particular size and breed wandering on their own kind of draws attention.
One more block and Ace finally gets the idea to take to the alleys between stores and other buildings instead, so he vanishes off the all too obvious sidewalks for that. That, of course, leads to him needing to move in closer to keep an eye on Hellboy, so he's left dashing along from alley opening to alley opening to stalk him from glimpses between that end and the one that opens out onto the streets. ]
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That said, usually the 'people' following him are... ghosts... or horrible monsters of some other kind, and not innocuous little doggies. So there's a bit of a learning curve involved here; he makes it a good several blocks before he realizes he's being tailed.
One of the decent things about having eyes with no visible sclera is that pretty much nobody can tell where you're looking. He takes advantage of this, looking out the corner of his eyes without turning his head, trying to keep track of the black-and-white blur as it moves along the alleys.
And then he abruptly stops and doubles back. Let's see how smart this thing is...]
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Did it go into a building? Did it between alleyways? Did it turn back?
He could backtrack, but either way, he'll need to chance the sidewalks again. That in mind, he opts to take that chance here and now and trots down that alley, there and then, only to stop at the edge and peek around the corner, down the walk.
Where is it? ]
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a
...rather, a communal university coffee lounge in the later hours of the afternoon. everyone had a different system for re-energizing themselves throughout the day, and in this, the differences usually boiled down to sugar or no sugar in their cup of coffee.
pucci was definitely a sugar sort of man, but that's besides the point. the room itself is a little tense — the fact that he was under no desire to keep his stares discreet explained most of it. it was probably a small mercy that there was faculty ducking in and out of the room.
the coffee machine threatening to overflow his cup is quickly regulated to a secondary — and no later forgotten — concern as he locks gazes with a man who looked as if he stepped right out of those biblical paintings in the sunday mass... right out from under the foot of a saint. that is, until his coffee cup actually does overflow, causing him to fumble his cup away from the mess and generally make things more awkward than it had any right to be at the moment. )
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Now is apparently one of those times, because yikes, that's a little embarrassing -- but, well, better to get this thing out of the way as soon as possible. Nip it in the bud, as it were, so the only people spilling coffee are people jittery from too much coffee.
Which is a pretty decent segue, because Hellboy steps a little closer to the man at the machine, hooves clicking quietly on the floor.] Well, I hope it has decaf, too.
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( he's got this, okay. except he really doesn't, and in the process of extending one hand to dissuade hellboy from approaching any closer than what was deemed necessary, there's suddenly a inexhaustible supply of scorching hot coffee dripping on the floor, and would you look at that, his fendi alligator skin wholecut shoes... )
— Damn!
( needless to say, this whole situation is positively nightmarish. with due haste, he tosses some paper rolls on the floor, and kneels down to a crouching position to wipe at his shoes. a certain kind of expression crosses his face as he looks up, indicating that somehow, this was all your fault, the universe is working against him, and you are an accessory to this crime.
what was that they say about first impressions? )
...If you must know, it was not.
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b i guess fuck if i know what i'm doing here
The hangman, it seemed, could not take his eyes off of the devil.
HJ was good at disappearing at reappearing, and it's over four blocks that he seems to get closer and closer, showing up well within the man's line of sight, as if he were chancing something, brazen enough to tell him that he was here, that he was watching, but it wasn't until the fifth block that HJ (somehow) ended up ahead of him, leaning against a wall, half in the shadows, half-out, watching him coming from the beginning of the block to the end, eyes (the only thing visible) very <>em>obviously locked on the only interesting disturbance on the street. ]
i never know what i'm doing, you're ok
But that was sort of a one-off situation.
Still, it's all external anyway. In all the ways that matter, Hellboy is a good person. He knows it, and all he has to do to let others know it too is to just be himself. It's not hard to win people over, not really. Which of course does nothing for the impressions left by his weird face and the hooves and everything, but so far everyone's just been surprised and curious more than anything else.
This guy in the costume is creeping him out a little, though.
Hellboy slows once it's pretty obvious this guy is playing some kind of macho game of chicken, stopping altogether once he's close enough. He usually has a pretty good sense of humor about this sort of thing, but the costume is wigging him out.]
Can I help you, pal?
oh good, we can fake competency together then
Even from his stance, he looked more like he should be standing straight, taking up the entire part of a room, like he was too big for the size he was -- and considering his size, while he wasn't Hellboy's, was still large for an average man, was impressive. He was silent for a long moment, taking in the full sight of the man? Creature? He wasn't sure what to call it, but for now the mancreature could be referred to as it.
After a moment, he spoke, something vaguely accusatory in his voice. Not quite there, but layered under careful words spoken and chosen with a certain deliberation. ]
What are you supposed to be?
[ Was he another of those mutant creatures? ]
that's always my plan tbh
sounds good we will win at this then
yes very good
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B
Nice tail. Haven't seen you around here before.
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Thanks, I try. [??? What else do you say to that...] That's probably because I'm new, though. I guess.
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Yeah. You're kinda hard to miss. What's your name?
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b.
Hey.
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Of course, nothing super exciting has happened yet. Maybe this world -- universe, reality, dimension, whatever -- is different in that way.
He glances over when he's addressed, which is a little unusual; most people have seemed content with just staring at him from a distance so far.] Yeah?
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This may sound like a weird question. Or maybe not. It's hard to tell around here really. But anyway, are you dead?
[Blunt maybe, but Suze wasn't once to dance around getting answers.]
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c.
This is, in fact, the first time he's been to the house himself, waiting until it was empty before moving a few things into his assigned room, the start of a nominal presence. The next thing will be to let his roommates know he's there (without letting them know how long he's been watching them to determine the sense of making this move).
And he's coming down the stairs just as Hellboy's headed toward them. Hooves, even unshod, do not a stealthy... big... red... thing make. Bucky freezes before he comes into view, but really, who's not gonna stick around to meet a roommate with hooves. So he stays where he is, eyebrows raised.]
...Hey.
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He tends to have a compulsion to crack jokes when things are awkward.
Stone hand on the railing, Hellboy has his hoof poised in hid-air, preparing to ascend the stairs. But then there's a 'hey' and someone also on the stairs. This might pose a problem.
Carefully, he sets his hoof down on the tread with an audible click.]
Surprise. [Surprise, your new roommate is this demon-looking guy... yay...]
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Tell me nobody hired a kissogram.
[HB, meet Bucky. The eyebrow lift is about the only sign given that this isn't an every day sight, and then he's taking the rest of the stairs down until he's just one above the demon-looking guy who's... kinda in the way.]
I take it you got a key. [Which means he's new, assigned to this dumb frat halls system, rather than, say, someone casually breaking and entering.
Or a kissogram.]
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c. oh my god I'm so late I'm so so so sorry I didn't see this
Are you here because you live here as well, or should I call for-
[She pauses. That loud man who didn't know how to speak to her told her what they were called-]
-the police?
[The question is less about if she should call them or not, but if she got that right.]