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As Hellboy promised, he was outside the diner at 4:30.. really. He didn't want to be too late or too early, and the compromise was weird. But unable to find a car, he borrowed a truck from the SHIELD motorpool. Hey, at least it isn't a Duece and a Half. The large pickup sits outside where the demon waits, pacing a little, telling himslf. "..she's gonna show, right? Of course she is. What if she changed her mind? What if she left a note with Betty."
Cyrene wasn't going to be taking a car…but mostly because she still had to work out how they worked. At least she knew what they -were-, it wasn't exactly something one could ignore in the city after all. Instead…she'd been walking. Or rather…leaping. Cyrene might lack the impossible speed that the princess had demonstrated, but with her strength? It was still relatively easy to get around. That and there was certainly a degree of enjoyment to be had taking the rooftop path…but eventually it comes to an end with the sound of a heavy impact. The redhead, once more wrapped in her armor-hiding coat, seems to simply drop out of the sky into the parking lot. She might even have cracked the pavement a little, but she was here…not always the most subtle of women.
When she drops out of the sky, Hellboy startles a little and then laughs. "Well, hell, you know how to make an entrance, Cyrene of Theymiscira." he offers with a shake of his head as he tries to calm himself down. "So.. uh.. ya ready?" he asks, reaching out for a moment to give her side a fond squeeze before going over to open the car door - passenger's side - for her. "Yer chariot awaits." There's a smirk offered with that. "Except there a lot more ponies under this hood."
"I could not find a horse," she begins before he offers the transportation and she smiles. Climbing into the car, there's a small akward movement before she frowns and reaches into her coat behind her, removing a larger-than-one-might-expect knife sheathed at the small of her back. Placing the weapon down in the footwell, the redhead raises an eyebrow. "That is an expression, yes? It is the 'power of horses' rather than an actual pony?" She was learning, but it -had- only been less than a week since she arrived. Now she was on a 'date' with a demon. Go figure!
"Yes. Horse power. It's supposed to be a comparison - go figure, right?" Hellboy gives a small chuckle before he glances over at the knife. "..was that in case I got too handsy with you?" he asks in mild amusement before he moves to start up the truck and head out towards the outskirts where the drive in is located. "How's your adventures going in the city so far?"
"No," the woman actually laughs. "It was…a compromise. I cannot carry my bow around openly, but weapons have always calmed me. Much like a child's blanket I suppose…" A small smile actually quirks as her eyes alight with memory. "I was once asked by one of my sisters if I slept in a pile of weaponry at night actually." Leaning back in the seat as the car begins to move, the Amazon doesn't bother with the seatbelt, but then she probably didn't think on its purpose. "Adventures? They have been limited. I saw some sort of comet run through the streets, I broke the weapon of a mugger, I dined on pizza and pancakes with you…and that is it so far."
|ROLL| Hellboy +rolls 1d100 for: 11
"Hmm." Hellboy considers for a moment. "…now a pile of weapons, like a dragon with it's horde." There's a glance at Cyrene and a smirk. "Though you're too pretty to be a dragon." he admits as they continue to drive, though as they reach the outskirts, they start to approach a set of railroad tracks near a slightly forested area. As they get closer, the truck sputters and stalls, coming to a halt. "…the hell." the demon rumbles, reaching to tap at the gauges before he frowns. "They told me this truck was in good shape when I borrowed it!" he mutters as he opens the door, stepping out as he moves towards the hood.
If only he knew why that comment made her smile, but Cyrene wasn't really all that big on sharing when it came to the fire she could manifest. It was too close to lines of concern she didn't really wish to explore. She's pulled from her thoughts however as the car comes to a stop, leaving her blinking as she leans across him for a moment, trying to see the gauges for herself even if she didn't know in the slightest what they ment. While he goes climbing out? She's left just sort of…sitting. "So…this is not where you intended for us to go, right?"
"…no." Hellboy glances down. "I mean, it is kinda what you would do if you wanted to get a girl alone to.. yeah." he coughs a little. "But no, this was not planned." he reaches down into the engine, like he knows what he's looking at - he doesn't. "…I guess we're gonna be walking from here." The demon sighs and glances towards Cyrene in apology. Before he can say anything else, there comes a sound - a train whistle.
…though the tracks look like they have been overgrown for ages.
"There is nothing wrong with walking," Cyrene assures as she climbs from the car, patting the taller and redder figure on the shoulder. "I used to enjoy walking the island sometimes, from one end to the other, mountains to sea. I'm sure we can manage this journey." Whatever context he was hinting at? She seems ignorant of it, delightfully practical instead.
The sound of the whistle has Cyrene frowning, looking around the space. "What is that noise?"
"That is a train." Hellboy is slowing, then standing stock still. His hand reaches towards his side and flicks out his coat, the edge of the fabric flaring around the butt of his pistol. "We have company." the demon says, nostrils flaring as the ambient temperature in the area starts to lower, and even Cyrene will feel the slight pinpricks of danger on the edges of her skin. Rattling down the tracks towards the pair is what looks to be a 100 plus year locomotive belching fire as it rattles down the tracks. As it approaches the pair, the number '66' can be made out on the front placard of the engine as it wheezes and steam and smoke rise from it.
Stepping down from the side of it is a ghostly monster of a figure. A massive black man in coveralls approaches, chains hanging arond his neck and carrying a large hammer. "You two have me behind schedule. Either get off my tracks, or get on board!"
From behind him on the train, in the passenger cars are the souls of the damned. Men in well-dressed suits, their heads proffered through by a single shot. Women in various states of dress, some of them carrying small bundles. Children that look like they are lost .. but they all share one thing in common..
..they're all soaking wet.
Cyrene wouldn't exactly be able to recognize the difference in technology, but what she can recognize is emotions of anger, fear and rage. And there's the more direct signs such as Hellboy reaching for his weapon. With a swift tug (and the sound of slightly ripping leather) Cyrene pulls the fastening of her coat free and lets it fall to reveal her armor beneath. Even with her blade left in the car, a shortsword rests up against her back in a sheath, the handle concealed slightly in the crimson locks of her hair. A band across her otherwise bare thigh carries a small collection of throwing knives and at her arms the bracers of submission are still worn. "What are these…creatures?" she questions, hand already going towards drawing the sword. Would Amazonian steel harm a spectre? Even Cyrene had never tried.
"Conductor, what are these souls!" Hellboy calls out to the large man welding the hammer towards the pair. While he has drawn the massive handcannon that he carries, Cyrene would note that he has yet to raise it in protest just yet, though he grins a slight bit towards Cyrene. "…what else you got hiding on ya?" he asks her with a quirk of a brow.
The Conductor frowns. "This is the Hells Gate Special, from New York to the East River to Eternal Damnation. All those aboard are the souls that deserve to be on board. From the lawless to those that sinned and took their own lives, they are not permitted to disembark. You will let us past."
"Ghosts…?" Cyrene repeats, frowning a little. Was this conductor an incarnation of the ferryman? Hard to know for certain, and such thoughts were beyond her interpretation. Hands not moving from her weapon, she turns her eyes sidelong to her companion. They might have met only a recent while ago, it seems she's willing to put faith in that Red knew what he was doing.
"Now come on, Conductor. I know ya ain't gonna let the dead go. But this is a special night for me and the lady here.." Hellboy glances towards Cyrene. "See, we're kinda on a date, and you're totally going to kill any chance I have to kiss her at the end of the night.."
"That does not matter, demon!" the conductor responds. "These people have sinned. This is their retribution. Either stand aside, or I will be forced to remove you!"
"…awww, cripes. I don't wanna do this, Conductor." he glances over at Cyrene and makes a subtle gesture. He's trying to distract the Conductor. For what? The ties that hold the cars to the train could possibly be severed? Is Theymiscarian steel and skin pure enough?
Well, it's time to find out. Among the Amazon, the sword that Cyrene wields is unremarkable, but thanks to the 'spirited' greek gods? Diana Prince was hardly the only demi-goddess in the world. Drawing the sword in one smooth motion, the redhead brings her hands together on the hilt of the blade and swings the weapon down, slamming the blade onto the links.
|ROLL| Cyrene +rolls 1d100 for: 5
When Cyrene's sword collides with the steel, there's a backlash. A psychic one that comes on the spiritual level. For one brief moment while steel is on steel, Cyrene experiences everything that was in the last thoughts of every passenger on the train…
…the mobster with a gun to the back of his head, and the anger of betrayl…
…the woman with a newborn, fearing the unknown life of abandonment…
…the lovelorn, reading a telegraph from the US Army informing her the death of her young husband or son…
…the man abandoned by his wife for the arms of another…
It all feeds into Cyrene for that long moment as steel kisses steel and the Conductor spends around. "What the nine hells you trying to do girl!?"
Cyrene knew a little of the faith from which much of the world followed. She knew of hell and heaven even if her own people carried different beliefs. One kept an open mind when they had witnessed the gods firsthand and yet also were walking alongside a demon. She staggers at the rush, the emotion that feeds into her full of sorrow, anger and betrayal honestly hurts more than the reverberating steel in her hands. "These souls…" she gasps softly, shuddering from the experience before she raises her blade once more. "Not all of them deserve the torment you intend for them." Did some? Perhaps, but the Amazon wasn't planning on damning the lot for the actions of one.
"They all sinned. They all deserve." The conductor raises his hammer, as he moves towards Cyrene, intent on taking a swing at her to try to knock the woman away from his train.
"Hey, hands off!" Hellboy calls out and the Good Samaritan barks it's first shot, echoing through the night. The Conductor screams and dissipates for a moment, but Hellboy frowns. "That ain't gonna keep him for long.." he starts to say.
And indeed, the Conductor is starting to reform. But he's not alone. A pair of ghostly figures has joined him. One is enflamed, carrying a shovel - the coal feeder. The other is dressed in a finer outfit - the ticket taker. "It is not your time or place to board or interfere!"
|ROLL| Cyrene +rolls 1d100 for: 71
She'd been warned, both for her actions by the entity and for the lack of time by Hellboy. She was trusting him that this was the right course, but the feelings of some of the souls? They'd been enough to make her certain on her own grounds. Slamming the blade down once more with a cry, there's a faint wavering in the air around her form, a faint glow to her eyes. "Who are you to decide?" she growls, "Mercy or punishment?"
"I am neither. I am the one to bring them to be judged. Who are you to interfere!" the Conductor's otherworldly voice demands of the Amazonian woman as he forms back into his corporeal form, holding his hammer at the ready. And that's when he moves in for the strike.
This time, Hellboy is unable to move in to defend the woman, instead, the firey coal feeder launches himself at the demon, attempting to brun him in the unholy fires of the engine. "That shit tickles!" It hurts a little, but the demon isn't going to comment on that as he aims the pistol and it barks again, shredding the shovel carried by the coalman.
Could the Amazon's sword hold up against the conductor's hammer? Hard to know. But Cyrene didn't intend to find out. Instead the woman sidesteps the strike with practiced ease of a warrior trained from birth, and Cyrene was older than she looked. Sweeping to the side, her eyes go wide with an idea that cuts through the bubbling rage. When the next swing of the hammer comes her way, the redhead does something insane: she drops her sword! Her arms come up, hands trying to grip the conductor and redirect his strike onto the links themselves.
|ROLL| Hellboy +rolls 1d100 for: 30
Clang! Unholy sparks fly as Amazonian steel meets underworld steel, and both weapons still seem to hold against the strikes against each other. Hellboy's massive handcannon barks again, striking and dissipating the ticket-taker as he uses his larger right arm to defend himself against a strike on his body from the coalman. Cyrene may hear Hellboy starting to speak in an arcane tongue, possibly summoning, though doubtful.
Her grab of the hammer angers the Conductor even as the strike rises through the hammer and hits the links. "You dare battle me for control of my train?!" he roars, his body growing in size and feeding the woman yet more of that mournful resentment and anger that permeates from the passengers, the conductor himself just that - conducting those energies into them forever and ever in damnation.
|ROLL| Cyrene +rolls 1d100 for: 26
The growing threat is probably dangerous, Cyrene was concerned for Hellboy too with his battle, but he wasn't her immediate concern and seemed equiped to care for herself. Instead however, there's a bigger danger than even the growing conductor: that rush of emotions. Amazon were ment to be empathic, it helped bring peace for others and let them be a bridge for mankind and the divine…but this was not always a good thing with Cyrene's heritage. The rush is enough to have the amazon shrieking in pain. Pain that comes from within rather than the conductor himself.
Then? All hell breaks loose. She screams, a loud noise of rage accompanied by overwhelming heat as her body is wrapped in a sudden blaze of divine fire. Those flames? They channel to her hands as she grips the hammer tighter and draws her other fist back, slamming it into the face of the being with her own strength augmented by the fires of the god of war.
|ROLL| Hellboy +rolls 1d100 for: 2
Hellboy had never seen Cyrene's special abilities before. He's seen the woman's combat abilities and her strength. But never ever this. Cyrene's flames burn - and worse - they hurt. Hellboy's flesh is seaed by the divine fire that she creates. Fortunately for the demon, he is not the target of her rage. Instead, it is the Conductor that catches it fully into his face. There's a screech of pain and torment before the flames burst through the incorporeal form.
The entire area within 20 feet is leveled by the accompanying blast of hellflame. When it dissipates, the Conductor, the ticket taker, the coal man are gone.
As is the train.
All that remains is the twinkling of fireflies in the dark in the blasted area. But if one listened closely to those glowing bugs, there's the soft chorus of thankfulness as Cyrene has released this trainload of the damned from their bonds. Resting on his knee in the middle of the area, smoke rises off of Hellboy's body from where the flames dissipated.
She'd have to be hopeful they'd be judged for their lives, not simply the way they were ended. But right now? Cyrene had come to a more mundane problem. Standing upright. This one? She doesn't do so well. With no train there to lean against the woman sort of…drops onto her side for a moment, only to twist and leave herself just…sitting on the ground. Her armor still faintly glows with the cooling heat of the blast, but the heat itself wasn't divine..just hot. She hadn't noticed.
Breathing a little harder, she looks over towards Hellboy, the expression on her face a little sorrowful. "I…didn't mean for that to happen. Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm good." Hellboy breathes out a little puff of air as he moves towards her quickly, dropping onto the ground next to her. "…are you?" comes the immediate question of concern as his arm gently loops around her in a consoling gesture to hold the woman closer, the heat not bothering his skin so much.
She doesn't shrug the arm off, instead the Amazon simply accepts the embrace and closes her eyes. "Not particularly," she admits, "but I am uninjured." That was enough of an answer. "I have many weapons I enjoy using, but that was not one of them. It doesn't feel right…" At the very least, if she wanted someone to understand fear of power coming from darker places, she was in the right company! Finally, she looks up at him. "Is that…encounter…is that normal?"
There's a long moment as Hellboy considers her words, and then nods a bit solemnly. "Can be sometimes.. with me. If that ruins my chances of getting a kis sout of you sometime, now's the time to let me know." he says with a small laugh as he moves to release her since she seems to be doing better.
"Your chances…have not been slain," she offers after a moment, exhaling a breath before she finally makes to stand, looking over towards the car. "Perhaps we have missed the cinema now. We should repair your 'chariot' and head back to the city." A pause, she smiles. "I could use something to eat."
"Sounds good." Hellboy offers as he rises to his feet. The truck will start automatically this time, apparently the flow of energy restored as he glances towards Cyrene and opens the door for her. "What do you have a hankering for?"