[Open] Dance with the Devil

[THOMAS MANNING]

2008 November 07

[/i] Muttering. “You pompous shirt-stuffed monkey...” Pulling out an antiacid, he popped it into his mouth, anxiously. Some days at the B.P.R.D. proved to be worse than others, and the nights where Hellboy was on the prowl... Those were by far the worst for Manning. Speaking into his radio, in a notably annoyed voice, he said “I know you think the world is a great place, but it's not. Now be a good boy and don't be seen. You have your orders, I have mine, and mine are to keep you out of sight. Remember, you officially do not exist. Am I clear?” ... Nothing ... “Hellboy?” Another pause.

As if scripted out the television program was interrupted by an 'EMERGENCY NEWS CAST' and it's spotlight feature was 'THE DEVIL WENT DOWN TO NYC'. “Damn!” He exclaimed quietly, grabbing his coat, speeding toward the exit, he would have to go to the scene in the underground to 'persuade' Hellboy into returning to the BPRD headquarters. Stopped by another agent asking to see his pass only agitated the man further.

”Where are you going? We have orders not to leave! The BPRD...”

Cutting off the younger man, Manning shoved a folder of papers against the others chest purposefully. “Let me tell you something about theBureau of” in sync with the news caster on television “Paranormal Research And Defence.” The newscaster catching his attention again, as they pushed through a media flock trying to get an exclusive shot of Hellboy. Grumbling he pushed the other agent aside and proceeded out into the empty hall, walking in the direction of the garage. “Paranormal Research and Defence... There's no such thing...” He grumbled, radio in hand as he stormed off.[/ul]

[HELLBOY]

It had taken him a cab and a ferry ride to get to Ellis island but it was important that he come. The last time he'd seen the statue of liberty he was still small. The war had just been won and New Yorkers were ecstatic. Broom was quietly relieved and Hellboy had snuck out of his quarters to have a look around. Broom had caught him soon enough but on that day he let him watch the festivities.

Today Hellboy smelled like cheap beer and sorrow. What had begun as a mischievous romp out of headquarters had ended as something bigger, something more introspective. His face was badly cut and ectoplasm on his shoulders glowed. All the media attention he'd wanted so badly in the past was just white noise to him now. His tail curled comfortingly up into his lap and sighed.

It had started with a magic show. He'd scoffed and haw'd at the thought of authentic magic as a New York lounge act and decided that he'd make a spectacle of himself by jumping on stage if the show was unbearable. He could maybe get a few beers in the meantime. Then sitting in the dark Hellboy saw the magician walk out on stage where a single wooden chair awaited. The magician sat and then expelled silvery whisps from his mouth.

The silvery whisps amassed in a floating cloud. And the crowd gasped. Hellboy had seen it before and knew that it wouldn't end well. He drew his gun but by then it was too late. It was Rasputin that appeared in the glowing veil, eyes hollowed and jaw twisted in some kind of horrific show of torment. Behind him more of the same tortured souls he'd put down came through and began to fixate on Hellboy. The magician fled as the thing grew into one large horned beast, a right hand of stone raised with a sword.

Hellboy knew what it was and taking apart the projection was all too easy. Ectoplasm wasn't as solid as a real harbinger of doom and he'd fought that before. It was like a sheet of jello that energies sometimes made a freaky little dance in. Hellboy didn't mind cleaning up after the magician. He just wanted to be able to get drunk without being reminded of that nasty little clause that came with the hand and horns. And now that he wanted someone to talk to Manning was apparently radio-silent.

"Figures." He huffed. "Stupid, in-sensitive Manning."