8081/In plain sight.

In plain sight.
Date of Scene:	01 October 2021
Location:	Central Park
Synopsis:	Hellboy needs to fix an Evvvvil spell that...Bando is sitting on, having a snack.
Cast of Characters:	Hellboy, Bando George

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Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy walks through central park. He's being 'stealthy', which for him means very little, since he's just about the unstealthiest person in the park at that moment. Hood up on a one-sleeved hoodie (the left one) with his trench coat over it, the BPRD agent moves with head down, holding a slightly crinkled map and pictures to a specific spot in Central Park. He avoids people as best he can while being nonchalant, but watching Hellboy try to blend in is likely cringe-worthy for actual spies.
    Approaching the spot, Hellboy looks up to see the spot, almost the exact spot, covered by a butt. Well, not just a butt. There was a spot, a boulder atop the spot, and a butt atop the boulder. It was, all in all, very inconvenient.

Bando George has posed:
    And who does that butt belong to? Well, it's a Bando butt. He's studying and eating his afternoon snack. Shorts and a polo, he clearly came here after school. And by studying, we mean he's playing Among Us on his phone. His liverwurst sandwich sits next to him, its container is an old reusable sandich meat container. He has a monster energy drink, and a zip lock bag of pretzels. He makes a face a few times at the screen, very intent on it, while his textbook lays open next to him, completely unattended to.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy points, rude though that might be, with his left hand. "Glow worm!" he belts out. He stuffs the papers into his coat and walks with purpose toward the teen as if the youth had any idea at all of what was going on and what he was sitting on.

Bando George has posed:
    Bando wasn't expecting to be called out to, and only one person has ever called him 'glow worm'. He jumps, as if caught not studying by his parents, and closes the screen on the phone, glancing around only momentarily before spotting Hellboy's approach.

    "That was one time!" he contests before anything else is said. Hellboy's height over him is pretty significant as he cranes his neck upward. "I mean, also hi," he says. His eyes can't help but look at the large discs protruding from his forehead. Back down to the eyes. "What is it?"

Hellboy has posed:
    "Hey, chill out, kid," Hellboy says. "I have resting demon face. I'm not gonna hit ya." The demon points at the rock Bando is sitting on. "You usin' that?" He doesn't explain further, letting Bando fill in the blanks on his own.

Bando George has posed:
    Bando looks down. His sandwich? The pretzels? The texbook? Surely not the textbook. He glances back and forth at the sandwich and pretzels. Probably pretzels. "Oh, you want some?" he asks, picking up the bag off the boulder. "I mean, sure." It may be odd to ask someone who's nearly a stranger for their food, but Bando is a sharing guy, why not? He extends the bag toward the big red demon.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy grumbles a bit, but accepts the pretzel bag with his rather intimidating, stone right hand. "Thanks," he says. He plucks out a pretzel and pops it into his mouth. Chewing, he says, "Meant the rock, though."

Bando George has posed:
    Bando seems remarkably unintimidated by that fist, and is admittedly impressed at his ability to pluck the pretzel out of the bag with it, watching the precise maneuver. "The rock?" he asks, taking the bag back to himself and plucking himself one and muching it. He looks down. "Like, this rock?" he asks, a single finger pointed and touching the boulder below him.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy doesn't nod. He doesn't show much expression at all. "Yup," he simply says. "By the way, your butt feel cursed at all?" That question is delivered in the same deadpan as the rest of Hellboy's conversations, making it unclear if he's threatening Bando, joking with him, or genuinely asking him such a question.

Bando George has posed:
    Bandow laughs, assuming that it's not his literal butt being referred to. "Cursed? Nope, super blessed," he answers. "Why?" He looks down at the rock, "Oh, because of being around the fire and crime and stuff? Usually it's on purpose," he says, having no idea that a literal curse is possibly being referred to. "Why, you feel cursed some-" he stops. Oh, that's probably a dumb question. He already forgot about the rock.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Well," Hellboy says, largely ignoring the teen's rhetoric, "I'm kind of here on an assignment. If you don't want your butt cursed, you might want to move." The demon plucks a new paper from the nebulous pockets of his somehow-roomy coat.

Bando George has posed:
    Bando gives a puzzled look. "Huh?" he asks, curling a lip in confusion. He remembers the rock. "You mean actually cursed? Oh, the rock?" He stands up, though not in a particular hurry as if he's genuinely worried about it. He scratches his head. "You think...this rock is cursed? It's been here like, I dunno, probably a long time. I think if it was cursed someone would have known by now."

Hellboy has posed:
    "Probably," the demon says. Without regard for Bando's lunch, hellboy puts a hand on either side of the rock and picks it up. He strains about as much as an adult man lifting a CRT monitor, which is to say, not much. He balances the rock on one of his shoulders, dirt and all. Bando's sandwich and anything else besides that bag of pretzels if he was still holding it go falling to the grass. Hellboy places the parchment on the ground under the rock and utters out something in an unpronounceable language. The writing on the paper begins to glow. Once it does, Hellboy shifts the rock back around and drops it on top of it before it can blow away. "There," he says.

Bando George has posed:
    Bando dives, rather dangerously, under Hellboy's holding of the rock so that he can save the sandwich. He catches it, misses the pretzels, which spill a few to the ground, and the textbook lands face down into the grass. "Hey!" he objects. "That's not cool! What are you doing?" His sandwich, man!

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy brushes soil and bugs from his coat, flicking it onto the spilled snacks and book without much care. "Just my job," he says. "Why?" he asks the teen, turning to square off against him, looming unintentionally. "What are you doing?"

Bando George has posed:
    Bando looks up, still laying in the grass in his 'caught the sandwich' pose. He knits his brow. "Um, eating? And studying." Okay, not really studying. "But I mean, why did you just pick up the rock and put it down again?" Apparently he missed the paper part. He was busy with something more important. Saving a sandwich, you see.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy looks at the rock, then at Bando. "Because they told me to," he says. "Gonna go back, tell 'em I did the thing, then tell them I saved your butt from being cursed. Bada bing, bada boom." He shrugs. "But, if you're really that upset about a sandwich, I do have a couple questions, if you want to grab a fresh one."

Bando George has posed:
    "Questions?" Bando asks, "Like what kind of questions?" he gets back to his feet, still holding the sandwich. He does seem to be far less intimidated by Hellboy's presence than most people who might see him. But then, he knows he has a few tricks up his sleeve if things were to get scary.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Well, you were glowing for one," Hellboy says, moving to sit on the rock. He hops up onto it, letting it squish down on the paper and making the rock settle again. "What, uh...why were you glowing?"

Bando George has posed:
    "Oh, my powers?" Bando asks. "Well, I'm a mutant. And that's not my power. I have no idea why I was glowing. Weird stuff happens ever so often when I teleport things. And that time the weird thing happened because I teleported /me/." He shrugs, and takes a bite out of the liverwurst. "Ish not a big deal," he says around the bite. "It usually goes back to normal after a few minutes or so. Some kind of quantum thing, maybe?"

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy looks intently at the boy as he speaks, nodding at appropriate times. There's a pause after he's done speaking as Bando chews that Hellboy is silent. Finally, he says, "Yeah, no," and shakes his head. "I have no idea what that means. Mutant, I get. They're all over the news. Quantum whatever--" He shakes his head again. "--not my field."

Bando George has posed:
    "Yeah, me neither," Bando admits. "I just heard somebody suggest that, and it sounded good." He shrugs. "So...why so curious?" he asks. "I can't really do it on command, if that's what you're hoping."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy scoffs at the suggestion. "Nah," he lets out. "I'm used to being gawked at. Won't do it to you. I just saw you helping in that burning building and I figured I'd ask, since you've got something most folks ain't got." He reaches out with a stony, right index finger and pokes Bando in the chest. Okay, that might bruise. "Guts," he concludes.

Bando George has posed:
    Ow. Bando rubs his chest. That's a hard stone finger. He grins, though, "I mean, I dunno about that," he says. "It's usually pretty scary, but God gave me this gift," he says, uninhibited to mention the man up stairs, "And if it's given to me, then I should use it to his glory and to help others, right? Nothing is an accident."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy raises an eyebrow, then lowers it. "I'll give you that," he says. "You in a 'special' school, kid?" he asks, making finger quotes with his left hand. "I know there are schools for gifted kids like you out there."

Bando George has posed:
    "Uhh," Bando lifts a hand and waggles it. "I'm in Happy Harbor," he says. "But I dunno if it counts as really special. There's lots of other teens with super powers, but it's not like they teach us to use them or be superheroes." He huffs, "I could really use somebody that knows how to teach me to use my powers." He takes a more aggressive bite of his sandwich, chewing as he looks off to the middle distance. "I mean, I got Ghost Spider, who is great. Like, really great." There might be more than one way he intends that 'great', a certain fondness that might go beyond her as a superhero. "She's helping me learn to do hero stuff, but she doesn't know anything about my powers, so I dunno if she can really help with that part.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Hey, I'm not a recruiter," Hellboy says, reaching into his coat with his left hand and pulling out a can of beer. He uses his right hand to somehow open it. "Just hopin' you're getting what you need. You're a brave kid, and if you learn how to control your powers, I figure you've got a shot with SHIELD or the X-Men or some--" He waves his right hand dismissively. "--kind of world-saving organization." He tips back the beverage and chugs some...then some more...then some more. Soon, the can is empty. Hellboy crushes it into a little ball like it was aluminum foil rather than an aluminum can. "Anyway," he says, hopping up from the rock. "I should probably get back at some point."

Bando George has posed:
    "I mean, yeah, of course," Bando quickly says. Well, there goes that ill-dropped hint. "Or The Avengers," he adds. "X-men seem like they might be a little too into the race card thing. I'm not lookin' to get in politics, I just wanna help people," he says as he watches Hellboy chug the entire beer. His eyes grow a little wide. Wow. He continues to be fixated as the can is crushed to a ball. "Oh, sick!" he declares. Coolest thing he'd seen all day. He bends down to get his pretzel bag. No littering from him!

    "Yeah okay," he agrees. "Well, it was cool to meet you. I'm Bando, by the way," Oh, and his textbook. He reaches for his bag, that had been set next to the rock when it was lifted, and he tries to pick it up. The shoulderstrap is stuck under it. He tugs again. Hmm.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Nice to meet you, kid," Hellboy says. "Seen you twice in New York City. If you believe in fate, we'll probably meet again by chance." He raises a left index finger to point at Bando, the crunched up ball of Aluminum in his left palm. "Just don't get your butt cursed," he insists. He drops the ball of aluminum in the chip bag. "Catch ya later." The demon turns, walking as nonchalantly away as a seven foot demon can in Central Park.