Things are... things are better. He's not trying to control her. He's not trying to tell her she can't do this. He believes she can, and he has faith
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And there is a Hellboy, wandering over to see how the little moppets are doing. He stands in the back, hands loose at his side, and watches with dark, glowing eyes.
Mel smiles as she works, flushed with effort and quite clearly enjoying herself, despite the lack of any actual challenge. It's just nice to have something to do.
She grins when she sees Hellboy, having pretty much exhausted the supply of opponents, and with a glance at Iroh to be excused, jogs over.
"It's goin' alright. I was gonna round up Spoon an' a couple of the others for a mall run. We ain't been since we got the car an' all -- and we really ought t'."
First thing a smart enemy does is destroy the supply line. "What about you, kiddo? Givin' 'em all hell?"
"Oh yeah. Veronica brought one back," Hellboy says. "There's apparently a lot full -- we need to go find 'em, is all."
But he looks over battered trainees and then looks down at Mel. "Looks like you're stronger then you seem, kiddo. Here, c'mon with me for a minute," he says -- walking away from the group, around the back of the apartment building where the dumpsters are. "I wanna show you somethin'."
She has the decency to look sheepish when he glances at the carnage she left in her wake, and follows him obediently. But she can't stop the smile from crossing her face again.
Cars.
"What century they from? Roughly?" she's asking. "How're they powered?"
"This one. 2000-ish, seems like, since apparently they hotwire like any other car. But they seem to have special little widgets thee standard American don't got. Like guns on 'em." That was a bit humorous, like what with Harper getting SHOT IN THE ASS.
But Hellboy takes off his coat, and then checks thee dumpster. Yup, full.
"Kiddo, I'm gonna give you an idea of how strong I am."
And so he reeaches out, both hands, and there is the squeal of steel as it compacts to the form of his grip, and he picks up a full dumpster like it was nothing, and walks it, awkwardly, ten paces forward, and setes it down, also like it was nothing.
It leaves MASSIVE HANDPRINTS, but still.
"That wasn't even me gettin' the exertion on. I can throw cars, break through stone towers, punch through camels..."
Don't ask about that last one.
"When it comes to kickin' buut, I'm pretty much top dog around here for sheer level of what kinda butt I can kick. But you seeem to have outpaced the recruits." And hell, SPOON.
Mel tries to hide her disappontment and watches the display of strength, one eyebrow raised in unimpressed curiosity. He's a radie, pump, really strong something or other. Why shouldn't he be able to pick up dumpsters and carry them around?
"I can't do that," she points out, in a tone of voice that asks: where is this going?
"Good to know," Hellboy says. "I'm just makin' a point. You put a hurt on 'em, but I'm gonna be seriously harder to bruise. So we're gonna head on back there, and I'm gonna take a few hits and see what I can see of you."
"Okay?" He dusts his hands off on his pantlegs, and then gestures. "If you're feelin' up to it, anyway."
She wants to damage Harth, she's going to have to figure out a way of fighting the supers. And he just insinuated that she might up be up to it, and she can't let that challenge go.
So she follows the gesture, heading back out into the courtyard, trying fairly successfully to hide her apprehension.
The big man throws his coat to the side, to get it out of the way-- and to make himself just a little more vulnerable. "Just take a couple of shots. I'm not gonna fall over and rupture nothin'. An' -- Mel? Don't hold back."
Hellboy's knees are funny, though; he's got those funky goat legs. But he wobbles a bit for that, and then gives her a sideways look. "Hit me in the face, Mel."
He's got two feet on her, but she's used to pumps with two feet on her. It's all about jumping from a short distacne to cover that height difference, and throwing her small weight behind the much more effective energy of her compact muscles.
Looks like someone is showin' them all hell.
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She grins when she sees Hellboy, having pretty much exhausted the supply of opponents, and with a glance at Iroh to be excused, jogs over.
"How's it going?"
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First thing a smart enemy does is destroy the supply line. "What about you, kiddo? Givin' 'em all hell?"
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But then she blinks, and stares up at him, eyes lighting up. "We have a car?"
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But he looks over battered trainees and then looks down at Mel. "Looks like you're stronger then you seem, kiddo. Here, c'mon with me for a minute," he says -- walking away from the group, around the back of the apartment building where the dumpsters are. "I wanna show you somethin'."
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Cars.
"What century they from? Roughly?" she's asking. "How're they powered?"
Do they fly?
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But Hellboy takes off his coat, and then checks thee dumpster. Yup, full.
"Kiddo, I'm gonna give you an idea of how strong I am."
And so he reeaches out, both hands, and there is the squeal of steel as it compacts to the form of his grip, and he picks up a full dumpster like it was nothing, and walks it, awkwardly, ten paces forward, and setes it down, also like it was nothing.
It leaves MASSIVE HANDPRINTS, but still.
"That wasn't even me gettin' the exertion on. I can throw cars, break through stone towers, punch through camels..."
Don't ask about that last one.
"When it comes to kickin' buut, I'm pretty much top dog around here for sheer level of what kinda butt I can kick. But you seeem to have outpaced the recruits." And hell, SPOON.
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Mel tries to hide her disappontment and watches the display of strength, one eyebrow raised in unimpressed curiosity. He's a radie, pump, really strong something or other. Why shouldn't he be able to pick up dumpsters and carry them around?
"I can't do that," she points out, in a tone of voice that asks: where is this going?
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"Okay?" He dusts his hands off on his pantlegs, and then gestures. "If you're feelin' up to it, anyway."
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She wants to damage Harth, she's going to have to figure out a way of fighting the supers. And he just insinuated that she might up be up to it, and she can't let that challenge go.
So she follows the gesture, heading back out into the courtyard, trying fairly successfully to hide her apprehension.
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"No chance'a that," she admits, and crouches briefly before launching a flying sidekick.
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"Again."
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So shes goes again, aiming low. Knees are usually good weak spots.
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Seriously. He's going to regret his.
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He's got two feet on her, but she's used to pumps with two feet on her. It's all about jumping from a short distacne to cover that height difference, and throwing her small weight behind the much more effective energy of her compact muscles.
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