12060/The Curio's New Life

The Curio's New Life
Date of Scene:	19 July 2022
Location:	The Curio
Synopsis:	The Curio is open for business! A bar where the mystic, the occult, the strange and the magical all have common and neutral ground to meet, share a couple of drinks and discuss. When Hellboy makes re-aquaintence of the investigator from The Poultrygeist, he gets to know Phoebe Beacon just a little better. Who knew that he could have a Hell of an Accent when using sign language? After receiving her card (A Nine of Hearts, naturally), a plan is in place to look into working together in the future.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Hellboy

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    THE CURIO.

    A building that wasn't there last week, but to be honest in a city where its dark guardian is a man in a bat costume and its worst enemy is a clown, no one really takes much notice of the building being moved from one place to another.

    Avis, with black and blue hair is at the bar, wiping out some glasses as she hums along to the music playing from the jukebox around the corner, the obvious choice being 'I Put a Spell On You' playing on speakers hidden at the floors tot he second-floor seating.

    The electric lights hum happily, there's a couple of more low-key sorts hanging around the bottom layer of seating, including a teenager with a backpack at her side, looking over a Very Old book.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy gets real Hocus Pocus vibes as he enters the place. Given that he lives and works primarily in Gotham, he's going to check out new clubs, provided he can do so without getting swarmed by fans. So far, so good. He glances around, reading the room. He returns a wordless upnod to the bartender before walking to the teenager. "You're not trying to summon another chicken demon, are you?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The teenager pauses in her reading, and she purses her lips as she looks up to Hellboy. She eases the book down, and then takes out her phone.

    She has a 'draw' app on it and she just scribbles:

    <Wasn't planning on it, but the night's young.> she gives a wry smile over to Hellboy.

    She brings her hands up and forming loose fists, rolls her wrists, and then points to Hellboy with her eyebrows drawing up. Sign Language.

    Explained why her regular talking sounded funky at the plant.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The pale lady with the blue and black hair comes around the bar, looks Hellboy up and down, and inquires;

    "All right, Tiny, what can we get you?"

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy moves his hands. <No need that,> he signs as he speaks to the lady trying to take his order. "Yeah, I kind of want a Cherry Pepsi," he says. He keeps Phoebe in his line of sight as he continues that visual conversation while his ears and mouth carries on with the waitress. <I'm Red,> he continues. <What's your name?>

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The bartender gives a nod "All right, you want a pitcher or just a glass?" she asks.

    The teenager, though, seems to light up when Hellboy replies, and her jaw drops a little bit before she pulls her hood down.

    She's an older teen, she's got little gold hoops in her ears tonight, and an industrial piercing in her left ear. There's a wide collar of lace and leather around her neck, hiding some gauze, and her lips purse a moment before she signs and mouths 'Phoebe', though the sign she's adopted for the sign for 'Moon' with a P at the bottom instead of a cresent -- and then alphabets it out with P H O E B E. Last name didn't seem of any consequence.

    <Nice to meet you Red. You with a big group?>

Hellboy has posed:
    "Pitcher," Red says. "Two glasses. Feel like sharing." As he's speaking, he watches Phoebe's hands. He signs out, <Not tonight. You mind if I join you?> He does his best to sign clearly, but some of his signs are a little hard to understand with that Right Hand of his. It's got the equivalent of one hell of an accent.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    he bartender gives a nod and goes to grab the pitcher of cherry pepsi.

    <You're welcome to join me. It's nice to have company. You had quite the outfit in NYC.> she gives a slight grin, <What brings you to Gotham, or did you follow the sound of a new hangout place opening?> she asks in curiosity, her feet swinging idly on the chair she's sitting on.

    The bartender returns with the pitcher, two glasses, and two crazy straws. The pitcher is about a gallon.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy moves to sit next to Phoebe. He adjusts his chair for visibility of his hands and body language, rather than comfort at the table. <Club,> he signs. He looks over Phoebe for a moment before he adds, <How old are you? Should you be in a place that serves alcohol?>

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a note of amusement in her face, and she answers back honestly.

    <Eighteen. Spent time in NYC as a barback, feel at home in a bar. As long as I don't order alcohol, they don't care.> she signs back and she motions around to the place, her lips pursing a moment, <Gotham City, bigger things to worry about.> she has a wry expression, almost playful, incredibly at home signing with Red.

    Red, sitting next to her, would be able to see the book she was reading. It's definitely old; the language in it is mid New Kingdom Egyptian heiroglyphs.

    It's talking about wards and dismissals of entities.

Hellboy has posed:
    Red keeps his eyes on Phoebe as she signs. It's good etiquette to listen when one is signing at you. He looks at the book when he gets a chance, then looks back at Phoebe, making solid eye contact with her as he signs out, <You're a young and beautiful woman. You got a healing factor or some other thing that will keep me from lecturing you about running into demon chicken summoning circles using Egyptian wards?>

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe levels a Wet Cat expression at Red.

    <How many people do you know can snap six ribs on landing after getting hit by a conveyer belt and get back up and keep running?> she questions. <You can lecture if you want. Just talk though because I'm not deaf. Just mute.>

    She leans back, a little sullen. <I've been dealing with magic for four years. This stuff?> she motions to the book <That's my birthright. It's a long story.>

Hellboy has posed:
    "Just trying to look out for you," Red says as his hands say, <Pretty girl like you shouldn't have to deal with the stuff I deal with.> He continues having this multi-threaded conversation, making it hard for even him to follow what's coming out of him at her. "What's that? Hermetic magic? Occult? You know we have more modern wards, right?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Which is appreciated... I keep getting people killed. Or horribly mangled in awful ways. Or holes in their ceiling.> Phoebe replies, drawing forward a little forward so she's a little more open with her signing.

    <It's ancestral magic.> she answers back, and she gives a wry smile.

    <Pretty girl like me's dealt with bigger things than a chicken ghost.>

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy hmmms a bit as he continues signing. <You'd fit in great with my bosses,> his hands say even as his mouth goes a different direction. "...kay," Is all his mouth comes up with, however. <Maybe you'd just fit in well with me,> he continues with his hands, following that thought through.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's eyebrows draw up and she signs again <Missed the killed and horribly mangled part did you?> she questions, and she narrows her eyes at Hellboy.

    <So you're recruiting now?> she inquires, and then she gives a toothy grin, and one-handed signs <Missed that part.>

    And she watches him as she sips her glass of cherry pepsi. The crazy straw turns bright pink with the cold.

Hellboy has posed:
    "No," Hellboy says, curtly. His hands, however, continue in a different direction. <I'm hard to kill.> He smirks at one or both of his answers. "I wouldn't wish my bosses on anyone."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Well that sounds worrisome. Maybe I should invite you to apply to my boss.> she signs back in amusement, and it's clear she thinks she's hilarious, because she snorts -- and then chokes a moment, because carbonated drinks plus laughing aren't a great mix. She reaches for some of the napkins, hidden behind a happy little dancing goatman on the table.

    <I imagine you're hard to kill. Who're you working for?>

Hellboy has posed:
    "If I told you," Hellboy says, "I'd have to kill you." However, this is a point at which his mouth and his hands are saying different things for obfuscation purposes. <Uncle Sam,> he signs. <When something goes bump in the night, we're the ones who bump back.>

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    She snorts at the old addage, and she shrugs a moment, and she signs <Did the group thing. Was under a Responsible Adult when he founded a group. Turned into a bigger group. Worked through an encounter in NYC over the last round of major winter holidays.>

    She frowns a moment, her shoulders drawing down. <So at the moment more of a magical investigative free-lancer nobody, since one Responsible Adult ended up being a demon puppet and the other is currently learning how to be the capital W Reckoning.> Yes. That would be Wreckoning. She's making a crack.

    Her dark eyes go up to Red.

Hellboy has posed:
    Red considers for a minute. He signs back silently. <We should do something deliberately together. I can't be any more demonically influenced than I always am.> He doesn't tell her why that is, but lets her make her own assumptions.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe levels a look to Red.

    <Haaaaa.> she signs, holding out the end and stretching it, and she shifts her weight. <And what do you suggest? Because that sounds like either an invitation for work or a proposition and you're going to have to try harder than Cherry Pepsi for the latter.> she replies, though the corner of her lips draw up; her curiosity's piqued now.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy smirks. <Not buyin' you booze, girl,> he signs. <How do you feel about vampires? T W I L I G H T,> he finger-spells with a sarcastic look on his face, <made it so I have to ask now before going out to slay a legitimate monster.>

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives an amused grin <Wouldn't have any affect on me.> she states, and she looks over to the Bartender, and then looks back to Hellboy, and makes a faaace.

    <Hate the book. Hate the movie. Should be blood-consuming fairies if they're going to sparkle. Imprinting is freaky creepy. Thirty blank pages because your boyfriend left you is a waste of trees that could be making oxygen.> she replies, and then she leans her cheek on one hand, and then signs <I know a few. One is a friend. Got on a shit list of one group because I burned their house down.>

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy rolls his eyes at the discussion of the book's contents. "Yeah, well, I didn't say I read it," he grumbles out. He continues signing, <Most are bad. Wards would help. House fire kill any?>

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's expression darkens a moment at the question. Her eyes get soft, and she raises her hands once, her fingers curling a moment before she replies:

    <It wasn't the fire that killed them.>

    Phoebe then wrings her hands a moment <Just destroyed the evidence and the bodies.>

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy laughs out a singular, "Hah!" quite robuestly. He says, "You're alright, kid," before picking up his Cherry Pepsi and slurping the whole glass down through the crazy straw. Once that's done and his hands are free, he signs, <Give me your phone number. I'll text you when I'm going out to bump back. We can bump together.> He probably could have phrased that better...

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a wry grin, and then she holds up her left hand. With a click of her fingers, she produces an aged Nine of Hearts card, which then when she flicks it over becomes a business card.

    PHOEBE BEACON
    Exorcist, Investigator.
    Student of the Occult

    And it lists a phone number on it.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy takes the card as it's offered. He reads it over quietly before a smirk comes over his features. "Tricky little minx," he says, looking up over her card. "I knew it was occult magic."