13192/Catching Up: Red and Phoeb

Catching Up: Red and Phoeb
Date of Scene:	26 October 2022
Location:	Planted Evidence, Gotham City
Synopsis:	Hellboy and Phoebe meet for lunch to catch up. Hellboy probably prefers Phoebe mute, Phoebe also at this point prefers herself mute. It tends to piss off less demons this way.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Hellboy

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Planted Evidence was a vegan-and-alternate-meat experimental place in Gotham City that usually required a reservation to get into. The line to get in was long and relatively pretentious looking with hipsters and self-righteous holier-than-thou types who liked to pat themselves on the back while unwrapping a plastic-wrapped orange purchased from a boutique eatery-and-grocery that took over a soup kitchen.

    However, Phoebe liked the place. It had a crime-and-investigation theme, Speak-easy decor from the early 30's, and most importantly large, comfortable booths made for even some of the larger denizens of Gotham to be comfortable in.

    She also got to skip the line and come in the back door, away from the crowds, because she was able to produce a credit card with the Wayne Enterprises logo.

     -- after all, the restaurant was owned by the company.

    So Phoebe, wearing a chunky sweater, her hair wrapped in an autumnal orange scarf and wearing nicer, designer jeans plunked down in the oversized booth.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy walks in following the short, beautiful girl, a juxtaposition if ever there was one. He's got on a black T-shirt and pants. His boots cover his hooves, so that's a thing. He sits down across from her in the booth, but scoots around to the back of it, able to keep his ember eyes on most of the establishment. He's also able to get a little closer to talk more quietly to her if need be. Good spot. Of all the stuff he usually has on him, the only thing he's got besides clothes and whatever's in his jeans pockets is his rosary on his left wrist, a constant accessory.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe was also keeping an eye on the establishment. It was Gotham. You couldn't be too careful, and she knew that at least one of her minders was probably monitoring the area. Halloween was a weird time for anyone supernatural.

    "So, I've been here a couple of times, everything on the menu's vegetarian. The cheese products are based on cashews, dunno if you're allergic. The jackfruit's pretty good, but their pasta is really, really subpar." Phoebe states quietly, and then she gives an awkward smile, and her right hand rises, and then firmly lowers.

    "Sorry, I know I kind of sprung being not-mute on you last night."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy looks over the menu, manipulating it with his left hand and following along with Phoebe. He clearly cares about her, and he's being very attentive. However, when she apologizes, he closes the menu and puts it down. "Yeah," he says. "It's good, but it's kind of a shock. I've been looking at ways to help you with that for a while, now. What ended up happening?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... it's a long story involving me being a dumbass and calling up the wrong demon." Phoebe states quietly, and she rubs the back of her neck. She takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly, not letting go of her menu. It was her way to hide her gaze with reading the description for the french fries in mock-duck fat with truffle oil.

    What the heck was a mock-duck?

    "At least I was the only one who was affected when I screwed it up. But some friends showed up, managed to get her cornered and had to literally take my larynx back from her."

Hellboy has posed:
    Red furrows his brow. He has to deal with this stuff all the time, but it always sucks when it happens to someone close. They had a friendship, she counted as close. He reaches out and puts his hand on Phoebe's shoulder. "Wish I could have done more to help," he says, "but I'm glad you got there in the end." He gives her a smile, then rubs her shoulderblades reassuringly before grabbing his menu again. He doesn't open it yet, though. "What else has been going on? It seems like every time we get the chance to sit and talk, something heavy's going down with you."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe stiffens as Red reaches out and rubs her shoulder, and she takes a deep breath, her body tense, and she forces her first reaction down.

    "When isn't there something going on? I'm in college. I investigate supernatural things. I have abandonment issues. Occasionally dragged out in the desert and have to fight demon possessed undead pilots." Phoebe murmurs to Red. "You don't talk about yourself that much, either. There can't be nothing going on in your life except playing with your cats." Phoebe points out, but it's in a gentle manner.

    The waiter comes over. Phoebe orders a soft drink, hummus and pita bread.

    "And I'm taking the bill. No matter what he says." she adds, with a smile to the waiter.

Hellboy has posed:
    "I say she's taking the bill," Hellboy jokes at the waiter.
    The man chuckles. "She's taking the bill. Got it."
    Hellboy skips all the not-meat on the menu and orders vegan pancakes. He's predictable, at least. Once they're alone again, he leans back in the booth and spreads out a bit, arms along the back, though not touching Phoebe. "Well, there's work," he says. "A lot of my efforts lately have been trying to put together what you helped me work on. The steel is forged, but it's just a brick, right now. I need someone who can make it into something useful without losing the psychometrics we've maintained in it."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Unfortunately the only metal-worker I know who I'd trust with such a task isn't... easily communicable." Phoebe admits, and she frowns. She sets her menu down and taps her fingers on the table a moment.

    "The brick was imbued with a lot of energy. Must be for hunting something pretty big."

Hellboy has posed:
    Red huffs a sigh out through his nose. "Yeah," he agrees, vaguely. "Something like that." He taps the back of the booth with his impatient Right Forefinger of Doom. He admits, "It's probably not going to be for smashing things. If I knew an artificer, it would be better. Science hippies just use tech that wipes the psychometry clean. That means supernatural stuff can shrug it off like it's nothing."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Mmm. I know how that goes. I've had to fight an angel before. There were complications." Phoebe admits quietly, and that time she does bring her right hand up to rub at the back of her neck. "Most of the people I know are sciency-types. I'm kind of the black sheep, with the magic an' everything." she admits quietly.

Hellboy has posed:
    Red looks at her for a few lingering moments. She no longer has a menu to hide behind. "I like you," he says. His hand moves toward her shoulderblades, but he pulls back, not touching her again, given her reaction before. "You're strong and capable, and there's nobody I'd rather have by my side against ghosts." He offers her a balled-up Right Fist of Doom for bumping, should she choose. "I proved that last night," he reminds her.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe looks over to Red, and she gives a wan smile.

    "Yeah, well, you've only known me on the professional side. My personal life's a bit of a mess." she argues, and she brings her left hand up and she taps against the Right Fist of Doom lightly.

    "As proven by 'three friends had to beat up a demon for my larynx'." she jokes.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy smirks. "I would have fought that demon one on one for you," he says. He then informs her that, "Shit happens. You haven't sank into a pit. I'm here for you if you need me, okay?" He looks at the table. "I should have gotten a beer," he jokes.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No. I got lucky. It could have gone so much worse." Phoebe admits quietly, and she taps her fingers on the table. "Could still order a beer; I can even do it from my phone."

    "Look, Red... I appreciate teh sentiment. I didn't even want my friends involved at all. They wouldn't take no for an answer. One of the most powerful mages in the world was overseeing it to make sure I didn't screw it up even worse. I just drag everything down around me. You don't wanna work with me long-term."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy reaches across himself, turning to face Phoebe more in that booth. He is surprisingly gentle with that Right Hand of Doom as his hands both move to frame her face, aiming her gaze at his. "Hey," he interrupts her. He makes good eye contact for someone whose eyes are embers. "I'm not going anywhere, you here me? You can't get rid of me that easy."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe stiffens again as his hands frame her face.

    She feels her shoulders tense, and she whispers:

    "Red. I know you are trying your best right now to be supportive, but you need to let go of my face, because I am getting kinda anxious." she breathes out, her heart thudding against her chest.

    "My healing factor was tested out by a guy who wanted to sell my abilities to the higest bidder beating the shit out of me."

Hellboy has posed:
    He lets go and backs off a bit, arms up. "Sorry," he says. He rests his elbows on the table, well, as best he can with the Right Hand of Doom threatening the finish, and says, "I meant what I said, though. Don't think I'm going to abandon you, okay? You're my friend. I'm going to stick with you until the world ends or one of us dies." He offers a smirk. "How's that for friendship, huh?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    There are a couple of people who snap pictures of the big red guy sitting with the girl, who promptly goes to hide her face in the menu in embarrassment.

    "And we're in agreement there. I don't abandon my friends. Sometimes I just need space to figure things out." she replies. "Like, being what I am. Still figuring that part out." she mutters.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy shoots a Peace Sign of Doom with stony fingers when he notices a camera. "I know what that's like," he says. He looks at Phoebe once they're allowed some visual privacy again. "I knew you don't like to be touched," he confesses. "That was my bad. Not going to lie, you seem like you could use a hug about half the time we talk, though."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Probably could?" Phoebe admits, her voice strained a little, but she shakes her head.

    The pancakes and hummus arrive. Phoebe begins to tear into the pita bread because it's something for her nervous hands to do.

    "Touch starvation is a psychological affliction. Humans generally need to have physical contact in order to promote oxytocin release, which not only increases the bond between people and partners but also provides pain relief and the 'good feels'. Dunno about your biology, never got that far with my last mentor 'fore he absconded himself back to Hell or whatever after pretending to love me enough to adopt me, so there's that. And I butted heads with the last guy after realizin' that my Stupid Ideas could've hurt someone I care for." Phoebe pauses, and gives a soft laugh, and puts her palms to her eyes.

    "So... yeah. Personal life is way messed up. You don't wanna know the deets. It's easier to keep things on the professional friendly side."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy listens. "I know," he says. He PROBABLY didn't look up her SHIELD file, and even if he did, they PROBABLY weren't watching her like a hawk. However, he's listened to her vent before. "Hey, I won't touch you," he says, pouring more syrup than is necessary over his oversized stack of pancakes. "If you want to, you can take point. I offer myself as tribute for hugs or even just leaning on. Only as much as you want, and only initiated by you. You're important to me, Phoebe. I want you to feel safe, but I still want to be able to be here for you in any way I can, okay?" He cuts a bunch of pancakes and stuffs a too-big bite into his mouth, even for him. He closes his eyes and lets out a soft, "Mmmm," of satisfaction.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    If there is one thing in the supernatural field that seems universal, it's secrets and vaguery. Like how she SAW Red as he Really Was. And SAW Mercy as she was.

    But now, Phoebe, in her skin, low and human and so very tired, gives a small smile.

    "Thanks, Red." she replies quietly, using some of her pita bread to scoop up that delicious chickpea and garlic paste, and breathes out in a soft huff of a breath.

    "Good pancakes?"

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy tears himself away from savoring to look at her, swallowing the huge bite. "You know what?" he says, raising a fork full for a toast toward her. "The company is what makes it great." Though one could absolutely imagine him sitting alone with ten times the pancakes, just greedily nomming them all.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebs gives a small smile, and toasts with some of her mash-covered-pita.

    "Yeah. You can't beat the company." she replies with a wry smile, and noms on her own hummus.

    "So. You made a report about our non-ghost last night?"

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy swallows his over-large bite of pancakes and rolls his eyes as best he can. "No," he admits. "The point was to show off how good you are to my bosses. No ghost, no showing off. Icecream was good, but that's not worth a report." He shrugs. "Next time, maybe."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... good. Good." Phoebe taps her fingers against the table a moment.

    "So.. uh. The spell I used showed people -- and supernaturals count as people -- as they Really Are." she looks over to Hellboy.

    "Just so you know."

Hellboy has posed:
    Red looks up with another mouthful of pancakes chipmunking in his cheeks. His brow furrows as he makes eye contact with Phoebe, clearly not sure how to take that. He swallows. "Okay?" he says, waiting to take another bite. There was clearly something she was trying to tell him.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You had your full horns in the vision." Phoebe replies quietly, and she gives a soft 'mmnph' sound, and then takes a very much too big bite of pita and hummus to cover up the awkward conversation.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Oh yeah?" Hellboy says with a slight smirk. He reaches up and rubs his left index finger over the ground-down stubs. "Was I having a bad horn day or something?" he asks, still being mostly playful toward the embarrassed Phoebe.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No," Phoebe replies, and she looks up at the stubs and then back to Hellboy.

    "But you did have a crown."

    Phoebe leans herself back and fiddles with her straw.

    "I won't pretend to know everything. MOst of what I get is from my books. And mentors, when I can get at them. But mostly I'm kinda going this all alone. Current boss wants me to step away from magic for a bit."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy's head tilts as she mentions his crown. He reaches up and rubs his balding head. "Oh yeah," he says. "I forgot about that thing." He looks at her, pulled back to the moment before he asks, "Is that what you want?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I can't pull away from magic. It literally is what keeps me alive." Phoebe shrugs.

    "had a bit of a fight about it, in fact. But it's mostly resolved now. Y'know. He's reasonable most of the time."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy nods. "Fair," he says. He considers Phoebe for a moment. "I don't want you to stop being any part of who you are," he concludes aloud. "I like who you are."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You hardly know who I am, Red." Phoebe counters with a slight grin. "And that's on purpose."

Hellboy has posed:
    Red sighs. "I'm the rightful ruler of England and Hell," Hellboy tells her. "I used to be a government asset, now I'm a person. I try to be a good person. Still, you have a file in SHIELD's archives. I know more about you than you probably want me to." He stabs another stack of bite-size chunks of pancake. "Still here," he points out.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe opens her mouth a moment. Hell? Well that's something, but England?

    She closes her mouth, and she leans forward.

    "Only thing SHIELD should have in my file is what Sims added to it. Either that or the long litany of how much of an ungreatful bitch I am, immature problem, low-level demon-piecemeal using mistake of a creature." Phoebe adds dourly and she crosses her arms.

    "... and how much Peggy Carter intimidated me. Maybe."

Hellboy has posed:
    "Well, that's the top page stuff," Hellboy says. He looks at her again. "Phoebe, why are you trying so hard to push me away? I'm trying to be your friend. I don't expect sunshine and roses all the time. I liked you when you couldn't talk and were feeling sorry about yourself. Just deal with it; I like you!"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Because every time I let someone in, they end up either trying to manipulate me, use me, or dead. And sometimes all three. I'm a fu-" Phoebe catches that her voice has raised slightly, and she grumps a moment, and then leans her head forward, hiding behind the menu again.

    "I don't feel sorry for myself. What's to feel sorry about myself for? I just cause pain and misery and death everywhere I go because I'm a useless git."

Hellboy has posed:
    "I'm a demon," Hellboy points out, as if that wasn't immediately obvious. Maybe Phoebe forgot? Maybe she didn't see him like that? It wasn't clear, but he still put that out there. "If you don't want to be my friend because you think I'll hurt you, that's fair, I suppose. I just see a hurting girl who I really want to hug. If you're this hellbent on avoiding that, I'll go once I've finished my pancakes."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Other way around, Red. I'm scared I'll hurt *you*." Phoebe states.

Hellboy has posed:
    Red laughs. It's a big, hearty laugh that gets half the people in the restaurant to at least glance that way. He leans forward. "Good," he says. "I don't have to be the scary one for once." He keeps the rest of his reasoning to himself.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe sinks lower behind her menu.

    And there's a soft 'thud' of her forehead hitting the table.

    "I bet you Raven gets taken seriously." she mutters crossly, and she gives a huff out, and she just reaches out and drags her platter of hummus closer to her.

Hellboy has posed:
    "I am taking you seriously," Hellboy protests, somewhat. "It's called being willing to take the risk on someone you care about."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You're not. You're cracking jokes over the very real fact that everyone I let get close to me has horrible things happen to them and the very pertanant risk that I could actually hurt you really, really badly. On account of what we are to each other." Phoebe points out, crossing her arms and setting her chin in them.

    "This isn't what I had in mind when it was suggested we have lunch and catch up, by the way. I figured it'd be more 'oh hey, let's talk shop'"

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy pushes the plate of mostly eaten pancakes away from himself. "Yeah, excuse me for trying to make you feel better and stick by you," he says. He shuffles sideways until he gets out of the booth. "I'm not trying to make light of what you're going through," he says, standing. "I get knocked around all the time by things that could kill me. I'm not a baby," he says, though sometimes he acts like a teenager. "I care about you, but you don't want that, so I'll thank you for lunch, and I'll see you in the field, huh?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe lifts her head and watches as Hellboy makes his exit. She tilts her head, and then she gives a nod. "Good. /Good/. See you in the field. Call on me any time. Glad to hunt ghosts any time. Make sure they log *that* in my file." she calls after him, a little ire rising in her voice, before she just reaches for her wallet, grabs a fist full of cash, and just leaves it on the table to scooch out the other way, not even finishing her hummus.

    Of course, what she left was going to cover the payment and tip -- a couple of times over. Enough to make up for causing a scene in the restaurant as she pulls the hood of her sweater up to hide her face and makes her way towards the front.