Summary:WAND gets a call about a supernatural disturbance at the New York Public Library Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
Horrible happenings in the New York Public Library? Is Bill Murray around?
Nope, it's just Hellboy.
They evacuated this particular section of the stack and word got up to WAND that something seemed to be loose in the library. The lights have all broken, deep in the stacks here, leaving it a bit dim except for the occasional flicker of flourescence. The more modern sections, with bright computers and bustling staff, seem far away. Bookcases form a near labyrinth around Hellboy as he creeps in.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are, you evil fuck," Hellboy mutters aloud.
There's a flare of light off to Hellboy's left. But by the time he turns to look down that corridor of stacks, it's gone dark. There's another flare down another corridor, off in the distance, and after a moment that's filled with a small, soft glow that bobs a bit, growing smaller and then disappearing as it likely turns a corner.
Hellboy grumbles under his breath and starts to walk in that direction. Stealth isn't exactly his strong suit, being massive and monstrous and kind of noisy. But he's not trying to be sneaky. He's trying to drive this thing out into the open. Whatever it is. Judging from the scratches it left on one of the senior librarians, it ain't anything nice.
"C'mon, bugger, Daddy Hellboy's got a cookie fer ya."
That bobbing light stays frustratingly out of reach, though it's definitely closer. There's the suggestion of a figure, but the light is between Hellboy and it, so it's hard to make out much more than the bipedal form.
Focused on closing the distance with that soft glow, Hellboy might not notice the scraping sound above him a moment before a demon leaps at him from above with a high-pitched shriek.
Five feet tall, four arms and a pair of legs, the demon is whipcord slim. All muscle and scaled skin and long, sharp claws that can rend steel as easily as flesh and it's headed claws-first at Hellboy's face.
Luckily, Hellboy's skin is a little tougher than steel, although not tremendously so. THe claws definitely rake through the surface layer of his craggy skin, drawing an angry howl from the massive agent as he brings up his hand to swat the thing away.
"Awright, devil monkey, you and me are gonna dance now," he snarls.
The demon crashes into the stacks, sending books raining down to the floor. It's only a moment before the thing catches it's breath and, grabbing some of the books nearby, throws them at Hellboy's face before darting in low to the ground to slash at the tall demon-man's calves before trying to duck away around the corner.
The bobbing light has gotten closer, even without Hellboy chasing it, and the vague form finally starts to take shape. A little over five feet, long blonde hair and cold blue eyes. She has a staff in one hand, a matte black color, the shaft splits towards the top, angling out and then back inwards with bladed fins.
The blonde stops, and raises the staff before striking the butt of it against the floor and speaking a word. Symbols start to light up from where the staff hits the floor, running outward in an arc. In the direction the demon fled there's a *Zzzraat!* sound, followed by the demon's howl of pain.
Illyana arches a brow at Hellboy, a smirk curving her lips. "Well? Go fetch." Her tone is teasing. Purposefully mocking.
Hellboy regards Illyana for a long moment, a bit of demonic ichor running from a calf where the little thing slashed at him. His golden eyes reflect the light of her staff back at her, an eerie luminiscence that always serves as a reminder of what exactly he is. "Fancy meetin' you here. This thing belong to you?"
Still, he does follow, shoving aside a bookcase with a rattling crash and reaching out to try and snatch the thing with his massive right hand.
"Nah. Mine know better than to keep running when I find them." Illyana replies, confirming that yes, the blonde has some truck with demonkind. "But it did catch my notice." Belasco's library had tons of information for Illyana to reference. But it was all pretty focused on the occult. Sometimes you just want to know about the 'normal' world, you know?
And someone's not really that good with The Google.
The demon shakes itself from the painful contact with the Wards Illyana's put up. It gathers itself in time to see Hellboy closing in on it and hisses before trying to dart off only to be snagged by Hellboy's big paw. It writhes like a worm on a hook, trying to slash out at the big red demon with it's long claws to get free. It's much more a guerilla warfare sort, relying on getting the drop on someone to take them out.
The thing's claws might be able to penetrate Hellboy's usual skin, but the Hand of Doom is a different beast entirely. Even touching it probably hurts the thing, the claws attempting to pierce the apocalyptic weapon giving a sort of mystic biofeedback that makes it yowl in his grasp.
"Shaddup," he says to the thing, punching it with his other hand to try and knock it out. "I dunno, this one seems pretty stupid, but I'll take yer word for it. If it ain't yours, what're you doin' here?"
Since Hellboy seems to have the thing pretty well (if loudly) contained, Illyana sighs at the question. She tugs around the satchel she's got across her body and pulls out a book to show Hellboy the cover. 'The Well-Tempered Garden' by Christopher Lloyd. "Happy?" She asks, giving him a baleful look that warns him against making fun of her. "I was in the area."
Hellboy flicks his tongue against his teeth, "Sure," he says. He's skeptical, but he's not going to make much of a fuss about it. "Then you won't mind if I keep this little rotter," he says. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a modest gemstone inscribed with a few carvings on the surface, holding it out and turning it in a few specific ways until it activates, lighting up and starting to suck the demon into it. "Took forever to attune these little suckers to not try and pull me in with 'em. Poor sorcerors worked overtime," he mutters.
Illyana Rasputina tucks the book back away and then wraps both hands around her staff so she can lean on it as she watches with some mild interest. "Nope. Keep away. I have more than enough." Which might be a bit disturbing to hear, but Koa seemed familiar enough with the blonde, right?
As the gem starts to draw in the demonic essence around, it starts with Illyana's hair. The long blonde strands start to rise and flow towards the gem. And then bits of her form seem to smear, drawn towards it. Her eyes wash out, turning to glowing white and there are glimpses of the horns and hooves of her other form.
Hellboy deposits the gem in his pocket and watches the brief glimpses of Illyana's underlying nature, "Yeah, I kinda got a sense of that from Turner when we met before. I ain't exactly in a position to judge nobody because they got a little bit o' devil in 'em, obviously," he says. "Which don't mean I won't punch you in your cute little nose if you get outta line," he grins.
Illyana Rasputina gives herself a shake as the draw of the gem stops, her human appearance reasserting itself and those pale-blue eyes glare at Hellboy with annoyance. While she doesn't make a huge secret of her nature, she doesn't usually like to let that side of it show. Even if the only one to see it is someone with an equally monstrous nature.
At Hellboy's 'threat', she flashes her teeth at him in an aggressive sort of smile. "You're welcome to try, Red." Even if it's just the pair of them, Hellboy's appearance has her falling back on the culture she was raised in. Which takes 'show to weakness' to something of a ludicrous degree.
Hellboy luckily doesn't get egged on that easily. The years have worn down his temper enough that he doesn't rise to bait easily. "Nah, you ain't done nothin' to deserve it. Like I said - no judgment. We all gotta make our way in the ugly real. I only get called in as sort of a last measure, when the bullet hits the bone sorta thing," he says.
"Well, we got a ghost busted. You wanna get some pizza?"
Illyana Rasputina's aggression slips away much more easily that it likely would in a normal demon. She lifts the butt of her staff, which then winks out of existence and the runes that formed the circle around the area die out as well. "That depends, you paying?" Ruling your own little hell-realm has some perks. Being paid in money you can spend on Earth? isn't one of them.
Illyana gestures to the wrecked stacks and scattered books as she draws even with him. "We don't have to clean this up, do we?"
Hellboy snorts, "Yeah, yeah, I got an expense card. We can eat out on the governments dime. I can write you off as 'research'," he says. He steps over a few bookcases and shakes his head.
"I wreck shit. Clean-up is somebody else's job.'