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@ohcrcp-blog
tuppencetrinkets replied to your post “@tuppencetrinkets && replying from here. “Yeah? Hey, look, that’s...”
I just love these two so much it actually hurts.
//They’re ADORABLE. Red and his ill adjusted social skills and big heart.
@tuppencetrinkets && replying from here.
“Yeah? Hey, look, that’s painful. Shameful. I’m not always butting heads. Sometimes I can be down right AGREEABLE.”
Liz speaks the truth and he knows it; his ALMOST human hand finding back of bullike neck and giving absent scratch as tail flicks. Hes more akin to feline than he likes to admit, “I might have read a few things, like anticipation being itself it’s own reward.”
Hand lowers to gently catch hers; large and bruising he can be, he’s always been gentle to the woman grown with those dark eyes.
yeah
Most times Red has the ‘luxury’ of talking to a civilian, it’s usually a victim of some sort or another or a new guy from the Feds. While BRPD aren’t quite the FBI, the FBI does manage to send a few people to them. Most of them puff up around Hellboy or stare in their first few weeks.
Or at the least until Tuesday rolls around.
Something told Hellboy this guy wasn’t going to puff up and pretend he wasn’t afraid. Where did they ma- nage to pull this Graham ki- No, he wasn’t a kid. Gra- ham was probably older mentally than he was. But where did they pull him from?
“My buddy, Abe … you met him yet? .. he’s a tele- path. Or like… Oh crap. Not psychometrics… Psy- chometry. He touches things, people, and he gets a whiff of who and what they are. But emotions ar- en’t his thing.”
Massive shoulders shrug,
"We’re a little tired of the ‘defense’ part of things, lately, and want more research. So that’s what the guys clad in suits tell me. I’m basically the brawn of the active branch.“
Hellboy nearly shrugs, again, but tells himself not to.
"I don’t get out often, not too many chances to practice my manners. Probably got worried about my cats and did the whole hypocrite thing. And th- ings aren’t normal as usual around here.”
Hellboy is a large individual, he trumps Will in size quite considerably, between that and the massive stone arm it’s easy to get intimidated. It wasn’t that Will was trying to be, it was very much involuntary. With time, he’d get used to him and maybe then things would go more smoothly between them.
They had to work together and it would be better if they got along rather than continue to be awkward with each other because apparently neither were very good in social situations.
The name Abe didn’t ring a bell with Will. He had yet to meet everybody so he got the feeling that he’d meet this Abe very soon.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Some people would say I have to work on my manners too. First meetings are usually odd and don’t go all that well. But uh, I haven’t met Abe yet and it looks like my escort abandoned me. Mind showing me around the rest of the place?”
Intimidating had become something of a middle name for Hellboy, even as a child with wide grin and large teeth. People eventually get used to it, but they rarely have the desire to get to know Red. It is what it is.
Maybe that was the root of blowing people off, being brusque hadn't begun naturally when the world consisted of Pops, his teachers, and event- ually Liz and Abe. It was late teenhood, he thinks. An abysmal period between fighting things that don't look too different from you and people you were aware what humanity was supposed to look like eyeing you like you ate their mother.
(Even if Red hated, just hated, cannibals.)
"The FBI encourages that, yeah? Be polite and stuff because of some of the media? I know we don't much get CIA transfers in here, the few we do get are worse than I am."
He frowns, Red's attempt to disguise confusion,
"They ditched you? Y'mind telling me who in this instance? I'm not exactly the rules abiding fella but that's dangerous. You're never sure what you're going to run into."
The demon's good hand strokes his goatee for a moment in thought.
"Let's find your housing as a place to get your bearings, yeah?"
Big brown eyes lifted from the furry creature purring in her lap to the two men standing before her. That’s what she saw. Men. Not freaks. Despite her busted lip, Cass smiled and when she smiled, she smiled with her whole heart. While scratching the back of Alfonso’s ears, Anderson lowered her mental shields. She let Abe search freely. It was the right thing to do. She was a stranger in their home. Although…there was a part of her that was afraid of what he might think. Her childhood and her home wasn’t for the faint of heart.
“Hi,” she replied in a soft voice mostly because it was hoarse from the elemental changes and her ordeal with the car. “I made sure he didn’t get wet. Wrapped him up in my towel.” Even though Cass’ fingers felt frozen to the bone, she wanted to make sure HB’s cat was comfortable. Selfless.
“I’m not a new transfer. I, uh, I’m not from around here. There was an accident and I was brought here. By Manning.” She didn’t want to overwhelm them with all the details.
Abe peaked her interest. He was a psychic like her. In all honesty she felt relieved to be around someone she could relate to. Cass stood and cradled the cat in her arms, towel still separating him from her wet clothes and skin. She took a few steps closer to Agent Hellboy. He towered over her, but she didn’t appear to be intimidated. She was fascinated. As she was about to hand over his cat, she noticed his wound. “Oh Stomm, are you okay?” From her height of five feet she tried to get a better look at his wound. She stood on tippy-toes and tried to get a better look. “I might have somethin’ in my belt for that. Helps with the swelling.” High tech MC-1 med kit. It always came in handy and although it was meant for Judges to use, she wouldn’t mind sharing.
“The name’s Cass.” She held her hand out while managing to balance Alfonzo with one arm. She looked at them both, not sure who would shake her hand first.
Hellboy braced himself, chin lifted up and face hard as the young woman looked up. Abe had the misfortune of his face not being as expressive, often being caught as simply stoic rather than the serenity the fishman blessed. But in times like this, Red would imagine, are the moments that he could set himself like Brother Blue.
Both were startled, Abe's more clear through the tentative mental connection than Red's sagging of his jaw. Both reactions lasted a moment, and Hellboy constructed that wall again to hide the uncertainty. Abe's shields were lowered, though he never had much strength behind them. It was a rarity when he dealt with another telepath.
Alfonso simply purred, taking all of the attention in stride and comfortable in the warm of lap and towel.
"No," Hellboy said slowly, his tail still and held just above floor, "Don't sound like you are ... Manning?" Voice thick with skepticism, "So tall, belly hollering, threatening to close everything that isn't by the book Manning?"
"Indeed," Abe replied, helpfully, "The very same."
"Huh." Amber eyes watched the woman stand up slowly, not terribly shocked to see the woman wasn't large. The uniform gave her some volume in theory, but there went that. Hellboy isn't shocked. "Bet he offered a great not-apology."
Gaze flick up, remembering his hand, "Ah, yeah. Give it an hour of two and it's fine. I ain't..." The gaze settles back on the petite woman, "You're carrying medical supplies?"
There is pause once more, though Abe seems to be the slightly more extroverted at the moment, "Abraham Sapien, pleasant to meet you Cass." Webbed hand is offered to be shaken while Red transfered the ice pack from his good hand to his normal hand.
"Hellboy." He offers, still unsure about Cass before him, “That’s Alfonso you’re holding.”
It had all started when she had confiscated the orb. Judge Death had been defeated again, but she had to go back and make sure. The orb was supposed to take her straight to his, or rather it’s location, but instead she ended up here in the middle of the street.
The thunderstorm was intense; She’d never felt rain on her skin that didn’t burn. Cars had swerved to miss hitting her. All but one. She hit the hood and rolled off to the concrete below. The car ride was a blur, but the psi managed to convince the stressed out individual that she was no ordinary citizen. She was brought to Broom and looked at by some strange men to make sure she was physically alright. Just a few bruises and a split lip. Nothin’ to worry about.
Wet boots squeaked down the pristine hallways and a thick towel was wrapped around her small shoulders. Broom had been so warm. So understanding. The cup of cocoa warmed her naked hands; Gloves were stashed in one of her pockets. The fire she sat in front of during the deep conversation with Broom had stopped her shivering, but she’d feel much better once she found her room. It was short notice and she was starting to get turned around.
Then she stopped dead in her tracks. What was that noise? A meow?
@ohcrcp
Manning was in a mood. You can tell when he’s in a mood when IDs needed to be flashed like cheap magic tricks. Manning is fairly new though he’s not much younger than Pops, spent a few years in the FBI from the 60s on, so that might mean something. But then Pops dealt with World War Two and the Occult Wars and came out fine in the wash.
He tries not to laugh when one of the new kids asks for his ID, tail flicking with agitation as he rests a packet of ice on his eye with his right hand. Left hand waves the kid away and he knows that Abe is sighing somewhere. And good ol Brother Blue is probably digging out his ID despite no one in the world looks like either of them.
It’s a rarity when he’s too sore to wait for Abe, but it’s one of those nights. The rain didn’t do much help at all with the Gowrow (which shouldn’t be so far East of Arkansas) and he is going to be sore in the morning. Without much thought, he pulls open the door to his chambers, knowing they’re going to change the lock in the next few hours.
Typical. He wasn’t even in the mood to leave HQ.
Suddenly, a blur of brown darted from the depths of his rooms, not even pausing to show affection. Freedom is on the whispered paws as it darts down the hallway and to just about anywhere. Heavy sigh escapes, “Crap.” Door is carefully shut, just in case if there are followers to the escape.
Knowing his luck, it’s Alfonso. Alfonso is fearless and smart enough to be fearless and of all his cats that had to escape tonight, it was going to be this one. Clay would probably volunteer to go after Fonzie, but Fonzie will think it’s a game. No matter what the world thinks about cat behavior, there’s always an Alpha.
He catches Abe in the halls, and bless the guy, he waits for Red to explain, “Alfonso is off to found another colony in this place. Stupid cat. I’ll find him before something decides to eat him or even worse, one of the agent takes him home to the kids.”
Alfonso meows again, pawing delicately to the new human. He’s a large cat, suggesting Forest Cat heritage, though his coat and face shape wouldn’t be approved by any cattery as pure breed. Large lamp eyes study Cassandra and without hesitation the delicate walk becomes a trot, side arching against the strange human’s calf and purring, once again pleased he found territory that no one else in his pride could claim. Another musical meow leaves him and he looks up expectantly at Cassandra.
The four legged creature frightened her at first. She let out a gasp and took a few steps back, fingers tightening around the coca in her hands careful not to spill it. Was this what she thought it was? A cat? A real cat? Her pulse escalated and she stood there, frozen for a good minute or two before she slowly sat down.
It was a cat, but it was just a cat.
A beautiful one, too. She set the cocoa aside and took the towel from her wet shoulders and fluffed it properly before draping it over her lap and chest. She didn’t want to get this magnificent creature wet. As if on cue, the animal stepped on top of her like a piece of furniture before settling in her lap. A shaking hand reached out to stroke it’s fur.
“Well hi there,” her soft voice echoed through the halls. “What’s your name?” A smile graced her lips. “My name’s Cassandra but you can call me Cass,” she whispered as if the animal could understand her. “I’ve never seen a cat in person before,” she spoke in a hushed tone as she stroked the soft fur.
Anderson was blissfully oblivious to the fact that Red and Brother Blue weren’t far. She was in her own little world, stroking an animal that had long been extinct where she was from. And the little guy purred, rubbing his scent wherever he could.
"Have you thought of a bell, Red?" The voice was cut and clear down the hallway, akin to parent reminding their child to pick up all their toys with exasperated fondness. The foot steps far lighter than the agent beside him. The breathing apparatus had been removed, the fish man close enough to his tank for it to be necessary.
The deeper voice was agitated in the echoes of their distance. "Yeah, I have, if we weren't housed so closed to the Weird and Wonderful all the kids would one. But, we got mothmen slumming it near by and those brass things ain't church bells."
"I have researched cat behavior, and I assure you, Alfonso must be-" There's pause from the lighter voice, a sudden flutter of thoughts scattering across Cassandra's brain. Cautious, but not entirely hostile. But he had been too late as two figures turned the corners.
Hellboy caught the pause in his partner in crime's tone, ice still held to injury, amber eyes turning from willowy fishman to the figure down the hall. The clothes reminded him of the Feds, though he didn't recognize the figure with golden hair who sat in the middle of the hallway. He stops on booted feet, tail frozen as thoughts run and hammer away. Pops didn't tell him about new transfer and as he studied the petite form.
Abe, bless his scaly soul, spoke first. "Oh, hello."
Two words were enough to break the ice, and it came quicker when he recognized the furry figure curled up in the woman's lap. Despite agitation, and so much discomfort, Red coughed, "So did the Professor find a cat whisperer here?"
Pops had to tell the new gal about he and Abe, right?
It had all started when she had confiscated the orb. Judge Death had been defeated again, but she had to go back and make sure. The orb was supposed to take her straight to his, or rather it’s location, but instead she ended up here in the middle of the street.
The thunderstorm was intense; She’d never felt rain on her skin that didn’t burn. Cars had swerved to miss hitting her. All but one. She hit the hood and rolled off to the concrete below. The car ride was a blur, but the psi managed to convince the stressed out individual that she was no ordinary citizen. She was brought to Broom and looked at by some strange men to make sure she was physically alright. Just a few bruises and a split lip. Nothin’ to worry about.
Wet boots squeaked down the pristine hallways and a thick towel was wrapped around her small shoulders. Broom had been so warm. So understanding. The cup of cocoa warmed her naked hands; Gloves were stashed in one of her pockets. The fire she sat in front of during the deep conversation with Broom had stopped her shivering, but she’d feel much better once she found her room. It was short notice and she was starting to get turned around.
Then she stopped dead in her tracks. What was that noise? A meow?
@ohcrcp
Manning was in a mood. You can tell when he's in a mood when IDs needed to be flashed like cheap magic tricks. Manning is fairly new though he's not much younger than Pops, spent a few years in the FBI from the 60s on, so that might mean something. But then Pops dealt with World War Two and the Occult Wars and came out fine in the wash.
He tries not to laugh when one of the new kids asks for his ID, tail flicking with agitation as he rests a packet of ice on his eye with his right hand. Left hand waves the kid away and he knows that Abe is sighing somewhere. And good ol Brother Blue is probably digging out his ID despite no one in the world looks like either of them.
It's a rarity when he's too sore to wait for Abe, but it's one of those nights. The rain didn't do much help at all with the Gowrow (which shouldn't be so far East of Arkansas) and he is going to be sore in the morning. Without much thought, he pulls open the door to his chambers, knowing they're going to change the lock in the next few hours.
Typical. He wasn't even in the mood to leave HQ.
Suddenly, a blur of brown darted from the depths of his rooms, not even pausing to show affection. Freedom is on the whispered paws as it darts down the hallway and to just about anywhere. Heavy sigh escapes, "Crap." Door is carefully shut, just in case if there are followers to the escape.
Knowing his luck, it's Alfonso. Alfonso is fearless and smart enough to be fearless and of all his cats that had to escape tonight, it was going to be this one. Clay would probably volunteer to go after Fonzie, but Fonzie will think it's a game. No matter what the world thinks about cat behavior, there's always an Alpha.
He catches Abe in the halls, and bless the guy, he waits for Red to explain, “Alfonso is off to found another colony in this place. Stupid cat. I’ll find him before something decides to eat him or even worse, one of the agent takes him home to the kids.”
Alfonso meows again, pawing delicately to the new human. He's a large cat, suggesting Forest Cat heritage, though his coat and face shape wouldn't be approved by any cattery as pure breed. Large lamp eyes study Cassandra and without hesitation the delicate walk becomes a trot, side arching against the strange human's calf and purring, once again pleased he found territory that no one else in his pride could claim. Another musical meow leaves him and he looks up expectantly at Cassandra.
Another moment of that awkward pause and sincee apology, more akin to a teenager who is aware but unsure. “Don’t mention it.”
Perfect. Fits with the role of an adult male, right?
Right.
Mac’s loss still stings. Crackerjack, Boone, Tiger. First trio of cats. Al- most too many to name, now.
Amber eyes watch the dogs warily, though the animals seem calm – friendly even – they weren’t always happy about his kind. And yet most animals seemed to be okay around him. Though he didn’t blame them entirely for avoiding the large stone hand, the preference of human siz- ed hand wasn’t just the pup’s.
“A couple,” The admission comes and he quickly hears Pops in the back of his head to be friendly. Th- is joe wasn’t going to be babysitting him and most people eventually get over appearance. “They’re cagey gu- ys but we try to keep them in line.”
Never mind a female kitten got into the pile. “And they’re not the only in- dependent creatures running around that are a whole lot less friendly than me. Don’t want you to lose anything more.”
A quick study of the shorter man bef- ore he hits the other elephant stand- ing in the room, “So you’re an empath, right?”
This felt very awkward if Will was being honest with himself. Both were just kind of going back and forth about a mundane topic, not that Will didn’t love talking about his dogs.
Thing was is that there were definitely other things they should be discussing and were not.
But then there it was. One of the things out in the open and while the situation was still somewhat awkward it was an improvement.
“Yeah, I am. Apparently you guys could use someone like me? Don’t know how well I’ll do with anything not human but I’ll try my best.”
He was already trying to join in the first place but him being an empath really helped him get in though.
“This isn’t just awkward to me, right? I think our introduction might have started off strange.”
Will just really needed to address that.
Most times Red has the 'luxury' of talking to a civilian, it's usually a victim of some sort or another or a new guy from the Feds. While BRPD aren't quite the FBI, the FBI does manage to send a few people to them. Most of them puff up around Hellboy or stare in their first few weeks.
Or at the least until Tuesday rolls around.
Something told Hellboy this guy wasn't going to puff up and pretend he wasn't afraid. Where did they ma- nage to pull this Graham ki- No, he wasn't a kid. Gra- ham was probably older mentally than he was. But where did they pull him from?
"My buddy, Abe ... you met him yet? .. he's a tele- path. Or like... Oh crap. Not psychometrics... Psy- chometry. He touches things, people, and he gets a whiff of who and want they are. But emotions ar- en't his thing."
Massive shoulders shrug,
"We're a little tired of the 'defense' part of things, lately, and want more research. So that's what the guys clad in suits tell me. I'm basically the brawn of the active branch."
Hellboy nearly shrugs, again, but tells himself not to.
"I don't get out often, not too many chances to practice my manners. Probably got worried about my cats and did the whole hypocrite thing. And th- ings aren’t normal as usual around here."
“Y'know…” Voice bounces with echo in wet alleyway, the sound purposeful as he feels something gnawing in his stomach. He’s aw- are that Wolfe’s not … the typical human. After all you can’t judge things by appearan- ces but Hellboy’s damned if he’s gonna ma- ke a mistake. “We really could make this ni- ce and easy and we can have a talk. You’re not my typical subject and I’m probably not one of yours.”
Feline like tail twitches, aware of the Power’s ability. Red knows he’s not one of them, though he had faint hope it would have been better that way. Less hanging over his head. “So why don’t you just come out, Wolfe?”
Blue eyes scanned the open space between the worn and weathered walls of the old warehouse. He could feel the demon prince long before he heard him, ears picking up the sound of his boots on concrete and the creaking of sliding doors that hadn’t been loved in ages.
He had no idea what he was, though it was a uniquely crafted mind. Wasn’t human, that was for sure. At first Wolfe toyed with the notion that it was a planetary foreigner, but as soon as he caught sight of the large crimson figure he grinned.
A classic humanoid ‘devil’, with horns cropped.
There were times Wolfe truly enjoyed the diversity of all life.
The grin slipped from his lips as he silently moved from his place. “I have seen a lot of different people in my days,” he called out to Hellboy as he circled around. “But you are unique to my eyes. Who are you?”
Red knows things. He knows a hell of a lot, excusing the pun. How much of it was practical in the real wo- rld was questionable, but he didn't operate in the re- al world.
He supposes what he learned can carry over. A gun is a gun, the target just a little different. So that's what he tells himself. Think of Rasputin. Rasputin looked remarkably normal, didn't he? And a cannibal has the same teeth as everyone else.
In comparison to Hellboy, anyway.
He doesn't think, the Samartian is drawn, tracking the motion of the man. The bullets that are just normal ri- ght now. Just normal.
"Hard to forget a face like this, ain't it?" Solemn agreement, amber eyes studying mad man. "Aw, come on. I gotta introduce myself? I thought the comics were a give away. It’s Hellboy."
His true name ... does not have the power it once had. But he's not gonna spit it out.
Reblog This If You Are Comfortable With Brainwashing/Conditioning RPs
"They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade and add vodka. I say freeze the lemons and then throw them as hard as you can at your enemies."
Great one liner starters!status: open
“... Unconventional warfare. I like it. Remind me to bring a few of ‘em if I managed to get back to the former Berlin Conurb.”
Here’s the scoop I’m gonna add in the about on interactions with psiconics.
Hellboy’s mind is readable with biologically/bio engineered based powers (mutants, ‘inhumans’, and developed).
Hellboy cannot be compelled or controlled by biological/ bio engineered based powers .
Hellboy can be affected by mystical and magical means and illusions though he’s capable of breaking holds if he’s lucky.
Example: Charles Xavier could read his mind, but neither he nor Kilgrave could compel Hellboy to do their bidding. Dr. Strange could potentially do something to Hellboy. This is due to Hellboy’s half demonic nature.
However, due to his demonic side...
Like all demons from Mignolaverse, Hellboy can be compelled by using his true name or his title. As much as he likes the name Hellboy, and perhaps the real reason he’s so attuned to it, it’s not his true name.
Anung un Rama is his name in the films, one he ultimately rejects due to John Meyers reminding him and Liz Sherman being danger. It might and can be used again on him for roleplay purposes. In the comics Anung un Rama is his title and is thus he is currently true nameless. However, for the sake of fun and tormenting my muse, using Anug un Rama will be fine in both verses. And anyone could potentially use it on him.
But ... there be a very good reason your muse knows Hellboy’s true name, though. Please contact me for more info.
(because @hellofacat likes)
Trish Walker isn't Art Bell; hell she's not even George Noory. He knows of her through Abe.
Calling her was because of Abe.
"Hey Trish, new time fan here. The fortune of being a pal of a long time fan. I wanted to comment about last week's show? Y'kn- ow the one. About psionics and Ms. Shlot- tman ?"
Now Abe was gonna pitch a fit because of call- ing. Ah, well.
(because @chaosandblueeyes liked)
"Y'know..." Voice bounces with echo in wet alleyway, the sound purposeful as he feels something gnawing in his stomach. He's aw- are that Wolfe's not ... the typical human. After all you can't judge things by appearan- ces but Hellboy's damned if he's gonna ma- ke a mistake. "We really could make this ni- ce and easy and we can have a talk. You're not my typical subject and I'm probably not one of yours."
Feline like tail twitches, aware of the Power's ability. Red knows he's not one of them, though he had faint hope it would have been better that way. Less hanging over his head. "So why don't you just come out, Wolfe?"
(because @balletspider liked)
"Crap."
Amber eyes peer up at the hole in the roof ab- ove him and resigned sigh escapes. He craned his neck and the gazes falls upon slim athletic figure in back. The next sigh from Red is even heavier.
He remains still in the rubble, eyeing the Black Widow with a measured respect. "So. Hi. I du- nno why you guys were called in but I can tell you we're not dealing with roving aliens or ter- ribly agitated AIs."
"I don’t like to think of laws as rules you have to follow, but more as suggestions."
Great one liner startersStatus: Open
“Kid, you mind explaining your thoughts about that?Because we got a whole slew of laws and some are better than others.”
