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After numerous misfires and miss communications. Finally, finally, Hellboy's found the time to set up a morning to meet with Cyrene to introduce her to pancakes as he promised. And what better place to do that then a diner made from what appears from the outside to be a railroad car - albeit a futuristic one. The inside is slightly cozy, and having claimed a corner near the jukebox, Hellboy is waiting for the Themyscarian, finishing off his cigar, a large mug of coffee already on the table as his tail juts out of the opening in the back of the chair. Hopefully she got the directions right. Hopefully he gave her the right directions.
That may have already happened once.
New York was…still strange, but at least Cyrene was making an effort to adapt. She wasn't openly carrying her bow and arrow, much as its absense left her rather uncomfortable, but that didn't necessarily mean she was unarmed. Her outfit was mostly obscured, hidden by the long coat she'd obtained and left done up after she'd recieved one too many looks (and someone threatening to call the police) after seeing her dressed in her amazonian armor. Humans were a strange bunch, and New York had been offering her plenty of weird things.
Stepping through the door, well it wasn't exactly hard for the redhead's eyes to find Hellboy. Through stature and color alone he was the odd one out. Making her approach towards the table, she hastily takes a seat and opens with a question rather than a greeting. "Are demons common in New York…or are you a 'mutant'?"
The large hat that Hellboy wears does little to obscure what his true nature. He does tend to stand out in a crowd. There's a flash of a grin and large yellow eyes study Cyrene as she approaches. However, when she takes her seat and instead of greeting him, she asks her question, there's a pause.
"Hey. Great weather we're having. How ya been? What's new in your world? You a mutant? One of these things ain't like the others." he scoffs gently with a smirk. "It's okay, ain't been much of a conversationalist. So. Want the complicated or the simple answer? Simple answer. Yep. Demon. Nope. Ain't telling ya my real name. Ya can just call me Red or Hellboy. Common? No more common than Themyscarian redheads that make anything look good."
"I am being rude," Cyrene corrects herself, realising herself. "Forgive me, I was curious after I met a man whom had a tail much like yours, but skin that was blue and he spoke another language. I thought him a demon, but he told me he was a mutant. He seemed suprised that I was not fightened of him. I thought that was because of taking him for a demon…" A pause, she frowns. "Mutants are not well liked by some, are they?" Even so, he answers her and she smiles, nodding her head before she raises one hand to press against her chest, a slip of her sleave revealing the bracer she was wearing beneath. "I am Cyrene of Theymiscira," she offers, their names finally exchanged before she shakes her head. "Your name is your own, I understand why you would not share it." Perhaps she would understand more than most! "But…what you must share is these cakes you have promised."
"I know, I know. Gave my word, gonna keep it." Hellboy responds with a laugh, and then glances towards his coffee. "Gives me a chance to visit with you some more." he starts to say with a shrug. "Yeah. See. Demon, I'm feared. If I said I was a mutant? They'd get pitchforks and shit and come after me." there's a frown at that. "Ask me, they got it the wrong way 'round. But I'm just the demon raised by humans, well, half-demon. Mother's side. A pleasure to meet ya, Cyrene. You want some coffee? Or milk, juice? What does a growing Theymisciran drink?" he asks curiously.
"Betty! Gimmie a warm up and two doublestacks!" he calls out to the counter.
"Want pig sticks?" she shouts back. "Naw, I'll pass, but bring a plate in case the gal wants some!"
And that's when the waitress notices the girl at the booth. He brow goes up and gives Hellboy a glance. Making sure that Cyrene isn't looking, she gives him a thumb's up sign. This might make the large demon take a drink from his coffee. Fortunately red skin doesn't give much away. "So." he finally ventures. "Ya just here while the Princess is in town?"
It would be that after lifetimes of never meeting a male, the first one Cyrene really interacts with was a demon. Those who knew her heritage would almost find it funny, but Cyrene herself wasn't among that number. She nods her head, resting an elbow on the table while she listens to his words. The question of a drink however? That has her blinking a little. "I don't believe I -am- growing anymore. While others from my home are taller this is my fu-….oh. That was an expression." A frown, more at her own blunder than anything else, she exhales a breath. "I am here to try new things, so coffee is what I will have."
At this point, she'd given up on trying to guess what food's form would take, instead waiting for it to be brought to them as she instead shrugs her shoulders at Hellboy's question. "I do not know," she answers. "I do not know if the Princess intends to return soon or if she will be here for a long time. If she commands me to return than I am honor-bound to do so…" she trails off for a breath before continuing. "But I intend to stay a while. I am not sure it is safe for me to return. Not for my home." That was more than she'd intended to share, but Hellboy hadn't been a closed book to her so perhaps it was rubbing off a little.
"Top me off, Betty, bring me a second, and plenty of cream and sugar, just in case!" Hellboy calls out towards the counter.
"Coming up, sugar!" comes the response before he returns his attention back to Cyrene. Ironically, his only other interaction with a girl so far was a Themyscarian that was far more different than the redhead. "Yeah. An attempt at humor. Didn't mean to make ya.. ya know.. feel silly. Supposed to make ya smile." He rubs the back of his head. He quietly mutters, "Crap." under his breath.
What would Bucky Barnes do? Who is kidding. Bucky Barnes would have either swept the redhead off her feet or gotten slapped.
Yes. A demon has shoulder humans. Steve Rogers on one side, "I.. have no idea!" Bucky Barnes on the other. "You got this! Compliment her hair. Close the deal!"
Hellboy waves his hand a little and turns his attention back to Cyrene. "Well, then, in case yer only here for a bit, need to make sure you squeeze in as much as possible." As he speaks the waitress comes over and sets down the second mug. "My, ain't you just the prettiest thing." she coos and sets down the pot and cream and sugar. "Your stacks and sticks will be out in two shakes, darling." comes the quick response before the waitress is heading off.
"…she means well."
"I do understand what a compliment is," Cyrene speaks, indeed cracking a little bit of a smile at his comment on the waitress. "It is just…adjusting. My home, all of us are women and all of us are warriors, but we are not all the same by any means." Spared from reflection by his suggestion however, the redhead actually raises an eyebrow. "You think I should try and see as much as I can, experience as much of Man's world as I am able in case I am forced to leave?" That earns a shrug of her shoulders. "I would agree with you, but I am still finding my way. The relaxation I had at home does not work so well here in this city. Apparently climbing your buildings is frowned upon, as is carrying weapons openly. There are no waterfalls…and that river is disgusting."
"You went swimming in the East River? Oh, hon, I wouldn't even do that!" Hellboy shakes his head. "Did Delphyne not give you the run down?" he asks curiously before he draws in a breath. "Yeah, unless you have some version of 'Spider' in front of your name, wall climbing is frowned upon. Though they even get their own grief." he shrugs for a moment as considers. "Ain't the weapons as much the type of weapons. You know. Though if you want to do those things, there's a whole sect of vigilantes that do the rooftop parkour and archaic weapons set. I don't know many of them personally, but you visit the high crime areas, you'll hit one of them eventually."
Before he can say more, Betty returns with the two stacks of pancakes, each one of them holding five plate sized cakes as she sets them down, a large pat of butter on top of each. "This all for you, Red?"
"Nope, one is the other Red's." he says with a wink as he takes one of the plates to slide over to her. Pig sticks? That would be the plate of sausage links that get set between the two as Hellboy takes the syrup to liberally apply. "Some folks take one of the links and roll it up in the pancake. They might also be communists."
"Thankfully, no. I looked at it and…I was not pleased." Cyrene answers before shaking her head. "I enjoyed swimming, but I do not think I will be attempting it here." Hellboy's comment about weapons has her opening her mouth with an expression of 'Oh!' but she too is interupted by the arrival of Betty the waitress. Taking a sip of her coffee (into which she'd applied plenty of cream and sugar to the point the bitterness might be struggling) she watches HB's application of syrup like it were a serious studious endevour before taking the syrup herself to mirror the amount. It's only after Betty departs that Cyrene reaches into her pocket and produces something rather unexpected at the table: a gun. The small .38 revolver was half-empty, but a little more noticable was the fact the barrel had been mangled by what looked like finger-sized dents. "A thin man carrying this asked me for my purse. He tried to shoot me with it when I told him I wasn't sure what that was." Cyrene knew what a gun was after all, the Princess had fought in the world wars and stories came back. "Is it normal for people to carry such a weapon, but not a sword?"
Trust the Amazon to turn discussion over a meal to weaponry, but as she takes her first bite of the pancakes? Her eyes go wide and the excess syrup is left to dribble from her lips to her chin for the moment of her downright startled 'mmm!'.
"Put that thing away!" Hellboy starts to hiss, then sees the finger dents in it and he smirks. "Alright, be careful when holding hands with ya." he says with a smirk as he pushes the gun back over. "..police, yes. Normal citizens? Naw. He was trying to rub ya. And ya did good." But he gets the feeling she knew that already. "And sword's all bulky and stuff." So says the man with the giant right hand as he uses his left to start to eat. But not before he wacthes her reaction to her first bite of pancake and he grins.
"I know, right?" Aunt Jemima has a new convert in the land of pancakes and Maple Syrup. Long may the Bisquik rise.
"Your friend is very skilled," Cyrene nods, taking another bite and talking with her mouthful. "Yff shld bee vrry prodff!" she practically calls out to the other woman before swallowing the food and then reaching for one of the links with her fingers. "A well-balanced blade is not bulky, it should be an extension of your arm. Or it could be a short blade. I have many of…" she trails off, placing the mangled gun back in her coat pocket. "I am sorry, Delphyne did tell me that humans found discussion of weaponry odd. Even among the Amazon people I am…passionate about it." The giant hand had earned a curious look, but no questioning. After all, it wasn't truely the strangest thing she'd seen and perhaps it was simply 'normal' for a demon.
At the very least, the redhead had the appetite of a warrior, given she'd already eaten more than half her pancakes and made a fair dent in the links. "I've asked you questions, did you wish to ask me any? Or to speak of something else?"
"Naw. It's not that. Don't mind speaking of weapons - mean, it's one of your passions. And yeah a sword's good. But a sword can't kill ya at 200 feet, ya know?" Hellboy asks. Opening his coat a little, the handcannon he carries is briefly displayed before he pulls the coat closed again before someone assumes he's flashing the poor redhead.
"Well. While you're here, I'll have to make sure to expose you to some of the stuff that humans use. You might find it to your liking, really. I did." he shrugs his shoulders a little at that. The right forearm is made completely of stone the same color as his skin, with strange runes on it in a demonic language.
He's starting to tuck in on his own pancakes, glancing at her on occassion, but it seems that he's having a bit of a moment as the conversation hits a lull spot, before he finally considers and asks. "Anything you ever heard about that you really want to try?"
"Well…it can if I throw it hard enough," Cyrene comments on the sword, her own attempt at a joke perhaps? Either way, she nods her head at the sight of the weapon he was carrying. Perhaps it was an assumption, but she's expecting it's much the same as her bow: built or someone of his strength where standard weapons wouldn't do so well. As for exposure? She shrugs lightly. "If they are as good as pancakes? I'm sure I will." As far as things she'd heard of? That has the amazon pausing for a moment before she places a finger to her lips. "I hadn't but…this 'Cinema' thing people have been talking about looked interesting. A play in a box? I find the idea curious. And your music here is almost certainly different."
"A movie, ya mean? I sneak to some now and again. Sit in the back, cause you know, don't want to block anyone's view." Hellboy offers with a snort and then laughs at her joke. "Hey, she does have a sense of humor." A single yellow eye blinks in a wink before he considers and glances up to her. Setting down his fork, he decides to inquire. "So. Want to see one together sometime? I mean, not in the theater.. they have these places called drive ins where you can drive up in a car and sit in it and watch the movie. Lot less cozy, and you know.. totally not a date or anything like that."
The comment about a date earns a blink…but that's probably because the woman thought he was refering to food. 'Dates' weren't really a thing on Theymiscira, at least not quite in the modern sense. Of course, intimacy was still present, love was an ideal of the Amazons after all, but things were perhaps…more straightforward. "I would be honored to see such a thing if you would take me," she nods before resting her hands on her stomach and her eyes on her now empty plate. "This was wonderful. Thank you."
"Damn, alright, next time, we're going to see who puts away more pancakes in a sitting." Hellboy says with a small laugh before he considers her blink for a moment. "Alright, groovy. I'm glad you liked the idea. And the pancakes." he offers quickly to Cyrene before he tilts his head slightly. "Besides slinging a mean sword, climbing buildings, and ya know, liking pancakes, what else do you do?"
That's…a puzzling question. What does she do? What she -did- do back home is probably the closer question. "I read…I train…I swim…I climb…I hunt…" she trails off, not really having more answers to given than that. "Back home I spent a lot of my time practicing, as many Amazons do. I was not one for philosophy and I am no healer or midwife, but my skill with a bow is unmatched." Okay, so there was a little bit of pride to her tone. "Here? I suppose I will see."
"I guess so. Look, I need to get to work. But I.. I'll call you and we'll get together again soon?" There's a hint of passion there. Not anger or the like. But hope. And well. Frankly. Lust. But not too much. The hope is the big one as he glances towards her. "For the movie. Or to hangout. Whatever." With that, he's starting to rise.
Cyrene is…probably a little more clueless than she should be. Her empathic senses were tuned to passions, but usually it was rage or anger that called to her. This was as alien to her as the pancakes, but not unpleasent. "I do not have a phone," Cyrene frowns, tilting her head to the side. "But…Delphyne will be able to find me. Or else…I am told I stick out a little. I am sure we will find each other with ease." A pause as she too moves to stand, the redhead adjusts the coat that was hiding her armor. "If not, look for someone climbing buildings?"
"Tell you what.." Hellboy considers, and there's a touch of her hand before he withdraws to take out his wallet. The touch on her skin was warm, as one would probably expect from a demon of hell as he takes out the money to pay for the meal. "Saturday night. We'll meet here again? About 5 o'clock, and we'll go out together then?"
Funny thing was? Cyrene's own skin was pretty damn warm herself, but even so she actually seems a little suprised. After all, most people were starting to feel the chill of the later months. Still, plans were in motion and nods her head, watching as the demon payed for the food. Eventually she would work out the currancy and not have to seek others to help her understand the exchange rate, she'd already sworn as much. "Saturday night," she repeats with a nod. "That sounds like a good idea." With one last nod, the woman reaches out to offer the large demon's arm a fond squeeze before she steps out through the door and begins her path back to the envoy. She'd been away for long enough as it was.