8097/Ectoplasm Inspection

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Ectoplasm Inspection
Date of Scene: 03 October 2021
Location: Bushwick <Mutant Town>
Synopsis: Hellboy is wowed by Lydia's golemancy.
Cast of Characters: Hellboy, Lydia Dietrich




Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy can more freely move around in Mutant Town than he can in human company. He's got a cell phone in his hand on speaker as someone speaks to him. "I have you on visual," comes the voice through it. "Oh my god, can you please take me off speaker?"
    "Nope," Hellboy says. "My ears are still ringing." It was, any lie-detecting mutant could discern, a lie. A fib. A fabrication.
    "Very well," the stiff, stuffy voice on the phone says. "You're in the viscinity, now. The scanner is unable to pinpoint more clearly. Can you see anything?"
    "Nope," Hellboy repeats.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia's life has gotten pretty busy lately, what with her lover being kidnapped and then hospitalized and the Brotherhood going on the offensive to take down China's Mutant Police problem. Still she makes time to come down to Mutant Town from time to time to check up on things, and go on patrol.

Tonight, however, she's here to perform maintenance on Baruch, the golem she created to patrol the streets of Bushwick. It's been a few months since she created him, and he's been working flawlessly, tirelessly walking the streets. He helps citizens when he can, and protects them from violence. Usually his presence alone is enough to deter criminals, but sometimes he has to get more physical. This means that he's got a bunch of cracks and bullet holes in it's dried clay body that needs to be filling.

Lydia is here in front of the eight foot tall golem, having whispered a command to soften up the clay to allow her to dig out the bullets and patch him up. She's dressed for the chill autumn air, wearing jeans and boots and a turtleneck sweater, and as always her ectoplasm surrounds her in a bioluminescent green haze.

The Golem has a mural painted on it's back of a fist over a DNA strand and the words, 'Free Mystique' written on it. The rest of the golem is tagged with various forms of graffiti, and his head has been painted to give him a more human look, despite his mostly featureless shape.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Hang on," Hellboy says, watching the golem. "I think I see something." He walks toward the golem and the girl and pushes the end call button on his phone. "Hey," he says to the girl. "Is he, uh..." The demon is almost cute when he's trying to be PC. "A mutant?" he asks. "Or she," he quickly adds to the golem, just in case.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Hellboy gets a curious glance as Lydia pulls out a bullet with a pair of tongs. "Technically it, but we've all decided that it's a he." She gives the Golem a loving pat and explains, "He's a golem. I built him a few months ago to help protect the people of Bushwick."

She turns back to her task and starts digging around in the clay with the tongs to extract another bullet. "I really wish people would stop shooting him," she grumbles. Louder, she says, "He's not sentient, but I gave him a modicum of intelligence and autonomy so people don't have to be telling him what to do."

Hellboy has posed:
    "A golem?" Hellboy asks, looking the thing over. "Wow, that's impressive," he continues. "I've always wanted one of those." He looks back at the girl. "You said you built it? You, uh...you happen to be a ghost?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
"Thank you," Lydia beams. Most people who hear about her golem tend to tell her that it's only a matter of time before it goes on a killing rampage. Few actually compliment her for creating it.

As for his question, "What? No. It's this," she says waving a hand in the ectoplasmic mists that constantly surround. "It's made of ectoplasm, so if you've got any kind of ghost sense or something, that'd probably ping it."

Hellboy has posed:
    "Ooooh," Hellboy says. He looks around, then he swings his mostly-normal left arm through it. "That'd do it, I bet." He lifts his Right Hand of Doom waves in front of the Golem's eyes. "You paint it like that?" he asks. His job is already officially over, now he's just dallying returning to base.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
The ectoplasm tingles to the touch, much like if you had rubbed mint on your hand, and wisps cling when you pull your hand away, but quickly evaporate.

Lydia shakes her head. "Not me, no. The people of Bushwick have decorated him like this," she explains. "The tagging is a kind of mark of ownership, you know? It's a way for the people to claim him as theirs."

The golem stands unmoving, save for the glowing amber pinpoints of light set in the dark recesses of where the eyes would be. Those lights track the hand as it waves, but the rest of the golem stands still.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Huh," Hellboy says at the explanation, looking at Bushwick's golem. He turns to look at the girl. He extends his right hand's Index Finger of Doom, but doesn't touch her with it, letting her take his finger to shake if she so chooses. "Also, since you're not geeking out, I'm Hellboy."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
"Hellboy," Lydia says with gentle amusement, taking the Finger of doom into her hand, and gives it a firm shake. "An interesting name. I'm Lydia. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She turns back to the golem and plucks out the last of the bullet holes. "So what brings you by?" she asks conversationally. "You're not exactly somebody easy to miss, and I haven't seen you around before."

Hellboy has posed:
    "Had to punch a hag," Hellboy says. He shrugs. "Wish I could share more," he says, though not very sincerely, "but I can't. Higher ups get testy if I say too much." He looks at the golem. "Hey, how old are you? Have you considered looking into some way to use these for more than just big janitors?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia sets down the tongs, and opens up the plastic wrapped block of clay she brought with her and a trowel. "Hags," she says wrinkling her nose. "Hopefully she never got a chance to eat any babies." She shakes her head. "Probably not. I would have heard something if she did."

She scoops a bit of clay onto the trowel and starts to patch up the bullet holes. "I'm 25, and he's not a janitor. He's a protector. A shield. We get a lot of crime and violence in Bushwick and he's out there protecting people."