[Liz is down outside by the front doors like a minute later, rocking on her heels with her hands jammed in her pockets and keeping a look out for giant red guys.]
[She is a young girl trapped in a city full of monsters!!! You just gotta deal with the fact that he is going to watch you like a hawk, young lady.
Hellboy is coming up from the city, so he's probably very obvious walking across the campus. It's really hard to surprise people sometimes, hence why he decided to do it over text first.
Once he's close enough, he holds out the container of candy so she can see it.] Maybe you should trust me from now on.
It's more like scavenging than anything else. [Whatever, Liz! More chocolate eggs for him.
He actually starts to tear open the package, which is less difficult than one might imagine; he simply holds it in his stone hand and leaves the more dexterous work to the left.]
What, do you think I can't shop for myself? Liz. I'm offended.
I sure didn't think you were robbing them. [Gosh, Hellboy, such a bad influence!! See this disapproving face she's giving you? It's really bad, she's not holding it up very well.
.... And her coolness isn't lasting very long, either; she's watching him open that packaging like she hasn't had chocolate in... well. More than a week.]
Are you telling me somebody doesn't do your shopping for you back home?
Implying I have a choice. [Which comes out a little bitter despite himself, and he immediately chastises himself for it. Keeping Liz calm to the best of his abilities is his number one priority these days, and that'll be difficult to do if she thinks he's affected by this place.
So, he's just going to quickly gloss over it and move on.]
I think you're really overestimating how famous I am. Not 'has a personal assistant' famous.
[She catches the tone in that and stops short for a second. While if she knew Hellboy was actually making a conscious effort to keep her as calm as possible, she'd probably be pretty mad, she has noticed just how calm Hellboy is about all of this. Like he's totally used to it by now. It's been a bit weird in itself. This.... It stops her short, and at the same time makes her realise... a little... that he's having a hard time too. easy to forget that when you're 14 and the centre of your own universe.
The momentary blip in her blissful ignorance is clearly readable on her face, but if Hellboy will gloss over it, so will she. She makes a slightly rude sort of dismissive sound.]
You're not that famous. [Blunt. So blunt.] I mean, the BPRD totally pays people to do grocery shopping for all of us.
Anyway, are you gonna eat all that yourself? [She might say please if prompted.]
[Of course, it's not just Liz that he puts the facade up for. He tries not to let anyone know when he's affected by something -- it extends to everything, not just to Zelien. He'd only told Abe a little, but he didn't want to burden him with all of the horrible things he'd begun learning about himself when the fishman had his own similar (but still very different) issues to sort through, so he started telling Kate instead.
Even when Liz was -- will be -- an adult, he still won't tell her very much. Hellboy always just gravitates toward the role of Solid Rock, there to be dependable and to shield other people from the world. It doesn't make for friendships built on sharing and feelings, but it means that he can protect people most of the time. And that's usually enough for him.
In response to her !!extremely rude!! little quip, Hellboy rolls his eyes.] I could maybe be persuaded to share.
[Liz is way too young to be even aware of any of this. When she's older, she'll get it - she'll keep her fair share of secrets from even Hellboy and Abe, and certainly won't expect them to tell her every single thing about their own problems (when you grow up with Hellboy as your best friend, you pick up habits). For now, it's all blissful ignorance.
She needs that Solid Rock. Hellboy is providing. She's not even thinking of it like that, but whatever it is it's good enough for her for the moment.
Also, she sees that eyeroll, HB. She is probably one of few people who would but she does.]
Wow, so I get kidnapped by these weirdos and stuck in a 20s museum and you're making me beg for candy.
[And you are never going to find a more sarcastic representation of a request than the deliberate hand-clasped, wide-eyed one Liz is serving right now.]
He can't help it. He bursts out laughing. (Which incidentally probably looks pretty scary -- but at least it sounds normal. Small miracles.) Shaking his head, he just holds out the chocolate to her without a word.]
[Maybe a couple of years ago, it would have been terrifying seeing Hellboy laughing - but Liz is not like most people (no matter how much she'd like to be 'most people'), it is not two years ago, and it looks totally normal. She doesn't even flinch, just keeps up the stupid clasped-hand thing for a second longer and then, finding Hellboy's laughter contagious, joins in as she grabs the chocolate from him and rips into the rest of the packaging before stuffing some of it into her mouth.]
This is... [That barely came out as words - her mouth is pretty full. She swallows, and:] OK, this is pretty good. Good going.
[You have met her approval, Hellboy. A second later, belatedly, she holds the container out, grinning.] You want some?
[Hellboy's laughter dies down but he returns the grin (in his own way) and holds up his stone hand.] I need to watch my figure, you know. You go ahead.
You sure? [She barely waits for an answer to that before digging in, and it already feels like a while since she ate something actually good. The food in the canteen isn't exactly getting any Michelin stars.
It's a couple of moments before she says anything else.]
[He almost says something obnoxious like well, now that you mention it, but watching her wolf down candy is more enjoyable than teasing her. At the moment.
But, oh, rabbits... Hellboy glances to the side, his expression shifting to something a bit on the troubled side. It isn't that the rabbits are particularly dangerous -- and in fact they are emphatically the opposite; they just sit there -- but they're weird. And they must be a bigger part of something, which does not bode particularly well.]
Right... I did say that. I don't want you going out there alone, but I can show you if you want.
[She misses the shifty look - she's looking at the chocolate, okay? - and she probably wouldn't have approved of it anyway.
Much like she doesn't approve of Hellboy's next words, either. She rolls her eyes at him, but nods nonetheless. Maybe another kid would have said 'sure thing, mom' or similar, and the words occur to her, but... she is really not going there, and as a result there's a split-second's pause she hurries to fill in.]
Yeah, yeah, I'm not gonna sneak off on my own and look at rabbits, I promise. Come on, let's go.
[Someone doesn't quite get the problem here. Either way, she's already walking, so best keep up, HB.]
[He's still invisible but at least he knows. Just like he knows that his palms leave frost-prints on the glass of her window–something to attract attention. Not that he needs to, with how he's tapping on the glass with a record in irregular patterns (flying was hard to get used to, harder still when he was only staying in one spot).]
[A moment later, Liz appears at the window - and unlatches it as soon as she sees the handprints, staring because she's on the second floor what is Jean even doing--
Nothing. She thinks he must have been throwing something up at her window-- but then how does that explain the...
(This isn't the first time ice has done funny things around her.)]
Yeah, it's my window.
[She mutters it, confused. Then she pulls her phone out. It'll take her a few moments, but if she doesn't get interrupted, Jean will receive one text message.]
[There's a sadness in the way he watches her take out her watch and text him.
He'll never get used to this: having someone stare straight through him. It wrenches his gut everytime and makes his breath catch in his throat. If he's even breathing like this.]
im heere
[Once again, he presses a hand against the glass, the frost forming around where his hand presses.]
[The next text comes through and she glances out the window, brow furrowed... and starts when frost begins to sparkle on the window, forming a definite hand shape right there in front of her.
But there's still no one there. She reaches out, touches the other side of the window to where the frost gathers like she could feel anything more than a cold glass pane... and then this time opens the window entirely.]
Jean?
[She hisses it out into the warm night. Invisible people doing stuff with ice. Yeah, she's seen that before.
But this week? This week kinda throws everything off.]
What are you.... Are you seriously right here? [She looks down towards the (kinda distant) ground.] Did you climb up here?
[as he types that, he loses his balance–shifting weight onto a foot that has no ground-support. As a result, he sinks down half a level. With a frown, he continues typing, using her window to pull himself back up to her level.]
its hard not to bumop inot people insdie so ive stayed out here
[though there's still a chance she won't take his word. His grip on the window tightens. Jean looks down at his knuckles and watches the frost spread from beneath them.
Maybe...
A quick glance up at her followed by hesitation. His gaze darts down to her hand. It'd be a bit forward but... A quick touch would be harmless, right? It's not like he meant anything by it, anyway.
In his nervousness, he wets his lips and–hands trembling slightly–touches the top of her hand. Maybe the coldness would transfer enough that she'd be able to tell.]
[She reads his messages as they come in one after another, frowning and staring at the words. Knowing what it's like to suddenly manifest a power you don't understand - that she gets. However, her power doesn't involve people not being able to see her... though oddly, it would seem to involve a similar sort of loneliness.]
God, this place is weird - you know that, right?
[People who she could see and talk to - and inadvertently set fire to - being turned invisible. Her own sudden lack of ability, or rather lack of compulsion, to set fires. She's never been so permanently confused in her life as she is being here.
She leans out the window slightly, hand braced on the frame, and is about to say something else, when--
Something touches her hand - it's light, so light, but so cold she gasps, and not just in surprise.
A moment later, the text comes through - but she already knows what it's going to say and barely glances at it.
There's a moment where she stares out the window like she's actually going to be able to see something - then, on a whim, she reaches out, palm forward, fingers slightly splayed - and that is absolutely an invitation for you to touch her hand again, Jean. Don't be scared - let it happen.]
This is insane...
[She whispers it, though - it's sort of her trying to convince herself this isn't her life more than anything else.]
[Harder still when he's holding a jazz record in his other hand. After a few minutes he makes it work but it takes some juggling and causes a bit of drifting. He uses the window frame to reposition himself, cautiously reaching forward to touch her hand.
It doesn't really work. He passes through her instead, pulling back his hand quickly to spare her the experience. Juggles the watch back into his hand.]
sorry
[A beat, another text.] i got yoju somethking im gonna throw i t in okay
[Again, more finagling–but he does manage to toss the record into her room. It becomes visible the moment it leaves his touch.]
[She stands and grins for a moment at the mental picture of Jean tapping away at his pocket watch with one thumb when she's stood there reading his texts with no problems.
And then there it is again - that odd, cold feeling. For a split second, it seems to radiate through her hand right to the bone - she shudders with a hissed intake of breath - and then it's gone as if it were never there at all. Still, it leaves her with a thoughtful look and a lopsided sort of smile. It's weird as hell, sure - but all the same it's pretty awesome.
She's still flexing the warmth back into her hand when he apologises, and she shakes her head.]
You don't have to...
[The next text comes through and she cuts off, reading with a furrowed brow-- and then she steps aside hurriedly, just in time to barely catch sight of the record just appearing there in thin air and flying into the window like a haphazardly tossed discus. Which is essentially what it is.
She crosses the room to get it, already holding it in one hand as the next text message sets the watch buzzing in her hand.
Her birthday was mentioned totally off-hand - kind of a 'look, this stupid newspaper even says it's my birthday next week' moment she was having while getting to grips with the fact that it's the wrong time of year. That he remembered, that he'd thought about it-- her-- at all.... It's a startlingly warm feeling radiating through her chest and up to her face.
When she finds her voice a moment later - there'd been a second where it felt too tight in her throat to say anything at all - it's softer than her usual tone.]
Thanks, Jean.
[And then--] I didn't even get you anything for yours - it was like... a few days ago, right?
[That, she knows courtesy of some weirdo over the watch network... thing.]
[The fact that it's her birthday isn't really sinking. She knows by the weird dates this place has that it is, but it doesn't feel like it, in more ways than one. (Not that Liz always has absolutely stellar birthdays or anything. She lives at the BPRD, for Christ's sake)]
[She's not sure if she's grateful for that lack of a reminder or not. It's easy to forget just how long Hellboy's been here, and that he didn't necessarily come from a lot later in the year like she did.]
[She's not even going to wait for a response - she'll be on that roof within a couple of minutes of sending the message, and Hellboy will probably find her sitting on one of the ledges, staring out towards the city beyond.]
Edited (tmw even dara forgets that's a lot of campus) 2013-12-03 21:03 (UTC)
[Hellboy's been following the calendar almost voraciously ever since they landed in Zelien. It's probably a combination of the Charon as well as those years lost at sea -- never knowing exactly what day it is, what year. Never knowing what he's missing. And even if he still doesn't know what year it is, at least he can follow the passage of time. It's better than nothing.
So, because he follows the calendar, he knows what day it is. And he should probably check up on somebody.]
Hey. How are you doing?
Edited (what the fuck why did i say day 6?????) 2014-01-07 17:58 (UTC)
[Liz's following of the calendar is restricted to occasionally skimming the paper, but today? Yeah, she knows today.
Not so long ago she was getting up early, homemade card in tow, to make breakfast in bed. Now she only gets up early because of nightmares keeping her up. Not that those are uncommon any time of year.
But the text, while welcome, isn't about something she knows quite how to talk about.]
[It's not something Hellboy has any real empathy for, having grown up without a mother. Even Father's Day didn't really mean that much to him; his relationship with Bruttenholm was warm but not particularly affectionate -- never in his life did he even refer to the professor as 'Father.' It was always sir or professor, even after he started considering the man to be less his caretaker and more his parent.
Now it's a little different. Now he knows who his real father and mother are -- there's a short, dull pang when he thinks about them. The old woman wrapped in chains, stabbed through by iron hooks. But it's more of the pain of regret than loss or mourning.
Or, as he assumes it is the case with Liz, the pain of guilt.]
That's righjt, it is. It'll be over before you know it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crossfired) wrote2013-10-07 07:44 am
W7D1
MESSAGE: So I might have a surprise for you.
no subject
[She's screwing with you, hb. But it's still kinda true.]
no subject
If you're going to be like that, you can;'t have any
no subject
any what
no subject
no subject
easter was ages ago, why easter candy
[Someone didn't read the newspaper. Or pay close attention to the climate but whatever.]
no subject
no subject
[She's going to be using the words 'are you kidding' a lot, she can tell.]
no subject
there's also giant rabbits in town.
no subject
[Wherever there is. Between easter candy and 'giant rabbits' she's pretty much sold.]
no subject
[Like hell he wants her to go wandering the city...!!]
no subject
yeah yeah
[Liz is down outside by the front doors like a minute later, rocking on her heels with her hands jammed in her pockets and keeping a look out for giant red guys.]
no subject
Hellboy is coming up from the city, so he's probably very obvious walking across the campus. It's really hard to surprise people sometimes, hence why he decided to do it over text first.
Once he's close enough, he holds out the container of candy so she can see it.] Maybe you should trust me from now on.
no subject
Liz doesn't wait for him to get up to the building; she runs over long before he gets that far... and folds her arms at him.]
Aw, come on. How am I supposed to know how this dumb place works?
[Much easier to believe Hellboy's screwing with her than 'this place thinks it's the wrong time of year', okay?
Also, she is way too cool to just ask him to give her some candy, so watch while she puts it off.]
So wait - you went to the store? You went grocery shopping.
[Cue images of Hellboy with a shopping basket just casually browsing the aisles.]
no subject
He actually starts to tear open the package, which is less difficult than one might imagine; he simply holds it in his stone hand and leaves the more dexterous work to the left.]
What, do you think I can't shop for myself? Liz. I'm offended.
no subject
It's really bad, she's not holding it up very well..... And her coolness isn't lasting very long, either; she's watching him open that packaging like she hasn't had chocolate in... well. More than a week.]
Are you telling me somebody doesn't do your shopping for you back home?
no subject
So, he's just going to quickly gloss over it and move on.]
I think you're really overestimating how famous I am. Not 'has a personal assistant' famous.
no subject
The momentary blip in her blissful ignorance is clearly readable on her face, but if Hellboy will gloss over it, so will she. She makes a slightly rude sort of dismissive sound.]
You're not that famous. [Blunt. So blunt.] I mean, the BPRD totally pays people to do grocery shopping for all of us.
Anyway, are you gonna eat all that yourself? [She might say please if prompted.]
no subject
Even when Liz was -- will be -- an adult, he still won't tell her very much. Hellboy always just gravitates toward the role of Solid Rock, there to be dependable and to shield other people from the world. It doesn't make for friendships built on sharing and feelings, but it means that he can protect people most of the time. And that's usually enough for him.
In response to her !!extremely rude!! little quip, Hellboy rolls his eyes.] I could maybe be persuaded to share.
no subject
She needs that Solid Rock. Hellboy is providing. She's not even thinking of it like that, but whatever it is it's good enough for her for the moment.
Also, she sees that eyeroll, HB. She is probably one of few people who would but she does.]
Wow, so I get kidnapped by these weirdos and stuck in a 20s museum and you're making me beg for candy.
no subject
I wouldn't say begging.
no subject
[And you are never going to find a more sarcastic representation of a request than the deliberate hand-clasped, wide-eyed one Liz is serving right now.]
Pleeeaase?
no subject
He can't help it. He bursts out laughing. (Which incidentally probably looks pretty scary -- but at least it sounds normal. Small miracles.) Shaking his head, he just holds out the chocolate to her without a word.]
no subject
This is... [That barely came out as words - her mouth is pretty full. She swallows, and:] OK, this is pretty good. Good going.
[You have met her approval, Hellboy. A second later, belatedly, she holds the container out, grinning.] You want some?
no subject
no subject
It's a couple of moments before she says anything else.]
So you said there were giant rabbits in town?
no subject
But, oh, rabbits... Hellboy glances to the side, his expression shifting to something a bit on the troubled side. It isn't that the rabbits are particularly dangerous -- and in fact they are emphatically the opposite; they just sit there -- but they're weird. And they must be a bigger part of something, which does not bode particularly well.]
Right... I did say that. I don't want you going out there alone, but I can show you if you want.
no subject
Much like she doesn't approve of Hellboy's next words, either. She rolls her eyes at him, but nods nonetheless. Maybe another kid would have said 'sure thing, mom' or similar, and the words occur to her, but... she is really not going there, and as a result there's a split-second's pause she hurries to fill in.]
Yeah, yeah, I'm not gonna sneak off on my own and look at rabbits, I promise. Come on, let's go.
[Someone doesn't quite get the problem here. Either way, she's already walking, so best keep up, HB.]
(forward dated) w7 d4; 7:47pm | text + action
[He's still invisible but at least he knows. Just like he knows that his palms leave frost-prints on the glass of her window–something to attract attention. Not that he needs to, with how he's tapping on the glass with a record in irregular patterns (flying was hard to get used to, harder still when he was only staying in one spot).]
t hiis is your e wiinddow right
i even have the perfect icon!!!
Nothing. She thinks he must have been throwing something up at her window-- but then how does that explain the...
(This isn't the first time ice has done funny things around her.)]
Yeah, it's my window.
[She mutters it, confused. Then she pulls her phone out. It'll take her a few moments, but if she doesn't get interrupted, Jean will receive one text message.]
you got the right one you can come back
oh my gosh that's one i made!!
He'll never get used to this: having someone stare straight through him. It wrenches his gut everytime and makes his breath catch in his throat. If he's even breathing like this.]
im heere
[Once again, he presses a hand against the glass, the frost forming around where his hand presses.]
thats me
you must have planned this all along
But there's still no one there. She reaches out, touches the other side of the window to where the frost gathers like she could feel anything more than a cold glass pane... and then this time opens the window entirely.]
Jean?
[She hisses it out into the warm night. Invisible people doing stuff with ice. Yeah, she's seen that before.
But this week? This week kinda throws everything off.]
What are you.... Are you seriously right here? [She looks down towards the (kinda distant) ground.] Did you climb up here?
you have cracked my nefarious plan
[as he types that, he loses his balance–shifting weight onto a foot that has no ground-support. As a result, he sinks down half a level. With a frown, he continues typing, using her window to pull himself back up to her level.]
its hard not to bumop inot people insdie so ive stayed out here
[though there's still a chance she won't take his word. His grip on the window tightens. Jean looks down at his knuckles and watches the frost spread from beneath them.
Maybe...
A quick glance up at her followed by hesitation. His gaze darts down to her hand. It'd be a bit forward but... A quick touch would be harmless, right? It's not like he meant anything by it, anyway.
In his nervousness, he wets his lips and–hands trembling slightly–touches the top of her hand. Maybe the coldness would transfer enough that she'd be able to tell.]
se e thats me
i'm brilliant that's why
God, this place is weird - you know that, right?
[People who she could see and talk to - and inadvertently set fire to - being turned invisible. Her own sudden lack of ability, or rather lack of compulsion, to set fires. She's never been so permanently confused in her life as she is being here.
She leans out the window slightly, hand braced on the frame, and is about to say something else, when--
Something touches her hand - it's light, so light, but so cold she gasps, and not just in surprise.
A moment later, the text comes through - but she already knows what it's going to say and barely glances at it.
There's a moment where she stares out the window like she's actually going to be able to see something - then, on a whim, she reaches out, palm forward, fingers slightly splayed - and that is absolutely an invitation for you to touch her hand again, Jean. Don't be scared - let it happen.]
This is insane...
[She whispers it, though - it's sort of her trying to convince herself this isn't her life more than anything else.]
shakes head
[Harder still when he's holding a jazz record in his other hand. After a few minutes he makes it work but it takes some juggling and causes a bit of drifting. He uses the window frame to reposition himself, cautiously reaching forward to touch her hand.
It doesn't really work. He passes through her instead, pulling back his hand quickly to spare her the experience. Juggles the watch back into his hand.]
sorry
[A beat, another text.] i got yoju somethking im gonna throw i t in okay
[Again, more finagling–but he does manage to toss the record into her room. It becomes visible the moment it leaves his touch.]
you saikd it was oyur birthday
no subject
And then there it is again - that odd, cold feeling. For a split second, it seems to radiate through her hand right to the bone - she shudders with a hissed intake of breath - and then it's gone as if it were never there at all. Still, it leaves her with a thoughtful look and a lopsided sort of smile. It's weird as hell, sure - but all the same it's pretty awesome.
She's still flexing the warmth back into her hand when he apologises, and she shakes her head.]
You don't have to...
[The next text comes through and she cuts off, reading with a furrowed brow-- and then she steps aside hurriedly, just in time to barely catch sight of the record just appearing there in thin air and flying into the window like a haphazardly tossed discus. Which is essentially what it is.
She crosses the room to get it, already holding it in one hand as the next text message sets the watch buzzing in her hand.
Her birthday was mentioned totally off-hand - kind of a 'look, this stupid newspaper even says it's my birthday next week' moment she was having while getting to grips with the fact that it's the wrong time of year. That he remembered, that he'd thought about it-- her-- at all.... It's a startlingly warm feeling radiating through her chest and up to her face.
When she finds her voice a moment later - there'd been a second where it felt too tight in her throat to say anything at all - it's softer than her usual tone.]
Thanks, Jean.
[And then--] I didn't even get you anything for yours - it was like... a few days ago, right?
[That, she knows courtesy of some weirdo over the watch network... thing.]
W8D1
MESSAGE: hey kiddo, how are you feeling?
no subject
[In other words, her powers are back and everything sucks.]
no subject
Ok. Let me know if you need anything.
no subject
are you doing anything?
no subject
Not a thing. Need some company?
no subject
yeah. that'd be good. Where are you?
no subject
no subject
[She's not even going to wait for a response - she'll be on that roof within a couple of minutes of sending the message, and Hellboy will probably find her sitting on one of the ledges, staring out towards the city beyond.]
W12D1
So, because he follows the calendar, he knows what day it is. And he should probably check up on somebody.]
Hey. How are you doing?
lmao i wondered
Not so long ago she was getting up early, homemade card in tow, to make breakfast in bed. Now she only gets up early because of nightmares keeping her up. Not that those are uncommon any time of year.
But the text, while welcome, isn't about something she knows quite how to talk about.]
i guess. its just 1 day
[So convincing.]
no subject
Now it's a little different. Now he knows who his real father and mother are -- there's a short, dull pang when he thinks about them. The old woman wrapped in chains, stabbed through by iron hooks. But it's more of the pain of regret than loss or mourning.
Or, as he assumes it is the case with Liz, the pain of guilt.]
That's righjt, it is. It'll be over before you know it.