10005/The Stan Of Salem's Lot

The Stan Of Salem's Lot
Date of Scene:	12 November 2019
Location:	Shaw Studios, Lower East Side
Synopsis:	A letter is found, a circle is drawn. But seriously, did Steely Dan really record here?
Cast of Characters:	Hellboy, Phantasm (Drago)

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Hellboy has posed:
    Nearly eight thirty at night, Hellboy wearily checked his watch out in the dark sky before bringing a cig to his lips and making his way to the quiet seeming little building and slipping into the lobby. Beside him was a plain clothes agent in a cheap black suit, and a strange badge on the outer pocket of his suit jacket. Hellboy, for his part, wasn't dressed as professionally, with his familiar looking tan trenchcoat and black shorts, not to mention the belt around his waist that jangled and swung wildly with every clacking step of those cloven hooves.

    "Excuse me...Mr. Shaw? I'm with the Bureau, we got your phone call...hello?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As with most of the rooms of the studio even the lobby has great accoustics, allowing for Hellboy's voice to carry even further than he might have intended.

A solitary night security officer glances to the group at the door, looking like the type of person who does not wish to convey surprise but fails in doing so. The eyebrows is this one's tell. "Do... you have an appointment?" Yep. Looks like any form of traditional reception has gone home for the night.

Hellboy has posed:
    The more mundane looking agent, a man with a thinning top of brown hair looked around with a curious glance while Hellboy looked down at the guard and immediately pulled part of his trenchcoat aside with his left hand, to reveal the badge that was attached to that bulky cumbersome looking 'utility' belt, the same one with the dangling cross and rosemary beads, which were right next to the very, very large revolver pistol that was loosely holstered.

    When the red man spoke, he spoke in a smooth, rolling low voice. He sounded like a man who didn't often raise his voice, probably because he usually didn't need to.

    "Yeah, this is Agent Waters, and I'm Hellboy. We're with SHIELD. We need to talk to Wade Shaw, as soon as possible. As in, we can't leave this building until we've done that. I like these floors. Is this oak?"

    Even as he spoke, HB was reaching past that massive pistol...so that he could pull out a silver flip lighter, switching it open and bringing the light to the Marlboro currently hanging from his lips. He couldn't drink on the job, so this was the compromise. Sweet, sweet compromise.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The security guard studies the group a few clicks longer before looking to the badge once more, "Ok. One second." Reaching a finger to the tip of his ear, he tilts his head slightly in that direction. "Gary, is Shaw still in? We got some guys from SHIELD down here wanting to talk with him ASAP."

"SH-? ... I'll let him know."

Conversation done, the security officer turns to look back to the agents and gestures in the direction of the lounge. "More privacy in the lounge if you need it. I'll point him your way."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy stepped into the lounge along with the agent next to him, where the nondescript human immediately took a seat against the far wall with his arms crossed. For his part, Hellboy remained where he was, using his right hand as an ashtray if he couldn't find any 'official ones' around...being a smoker in the year 2027 was a pain, but what else was new.

    By the time anyone comes to visit, the red-skinned half-Demon was standing idly, examining the rosemary beads between his fingers carefully. He might have been deep in thought, or he might have noticed a smudge. With that uniquely ugly mug of his, and with those glowing yellow eyes, trying to determine any actual facial expression was a difficult task for any regular person.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Alas poor Hellboy, the studio indoors is a non-smoking establishment. However, judging from the lack of reprimand from the security officer, they're letting that bit slide. After all, where does a Hellboy smoke? Anywhere he damn well pleases. Yep!

It wasn't too long after Hellboy got up that there was footsteps announcing the entrance of another. Blonde hair cut short, a gray tee, blue jeans, and sneakers. Hmm. Must be just another random mu-

"Hi. Wade Shaw." He introduces himself.

Ok so that's the owner of the place. They have a VERY relaxed dress code around here it seems, "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

Hellboy has posed:
    "Well, it was either this or Bonanza reruns."

    A few moments of silence passed, enough time for that clever witty one-liner to hang in the air like an ominous cloud. HB quickly glanced over to the human agent who was absolutely stoic and stonefaced, and it was then that the demon decided to just let the joke die then and there.

    "Well, then let's just get right into it, someone wrote a letter and you think it might have some sorta juju? Please tell me you haven't been touching it, and that there's a nice quiet room where we can go ahead and examine what it is that you're talking about?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"If you mean unnaturally creepy than yes." Wade replies, "I can't speak for whoever had it prior to getting to the booking agent's office but afterwards, just me and him have come in contact with it." He pauses, glancing behind him momentarily, lowering his voice "I haven't told Nick yet in case it's nothing and we're just overreacting..."

Wade turns, looking in the direction of the first floor security guard. "Hey Larry. Is Nick still upstairs or did he wander off towards the session rooms?"

Hellboy has posed:
    So, Hellboy put out his Marlboro, nodding to the human agent and telling the man to stay put. The red half-demon approached Wade, gesturing with his smaller left hand('smaller' was the word of the day) toward the rest of the building.

    "Well then let's not dilly dally, Mr. Shaw. Show me what's been going bump in the night, and we'll see if we can bump it back or not. Also...is it true what I read in the papers? Steely Dan used to come here and jam? Man, that musta been something."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
He moved to the session rooms." Larry answers, a head tilting to indicating the general direction the musician went.

"Ok good, we can look at it my office." Wade comments, pausing as he assesses Hellboy's stature. In particular, his size. "Um." He considers the general appearance of the fighter, "Is your party more of an elevator or stairs type of party?"

Hellboy has posed:
    Back out in the lobby, he waved the agents aside, signalling for them to wait where they were when Mr. Shaw voiced his concerns. Specifically, concerning the carrying capacity of this studio's elevator car. At that, HB turned to give the man a look.

    "What, is there something you're trying to say? Worried I've been hitting the Hostess Fruit Pies(tm) a little too much and can't ride in an elevator?"

    As he spoke and clacked loudly down that hallway, his facial expression was as usual a stone-faced mystery, with the glowing eyes and the slack jaw, it was difficult even during the best of times to get any kind of a read. But his tail was switching back and forth every so often. Maybe that meant something. In any case, when the metal doors of that elevator opened, HB reached out that left hand and held it open, gesturing with his stone right.

    "After you, chief. Unless you want us to take the stairs, and start huffing and puffing before we get to this mystery mail."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Wade gives a bit of an apologetic look, "Sorry, its just... I'm not sure what the uh-" He eyes Hellboy's larger arm but eventually steps in, "-Nevermind." Shuffling off to the back left corner to make room for the others to come into the elevator. It is smallish and will likely be a tight squeeze for the entire group. "It could have been Twinkees.(tm)"

Larry remains at his station, glancing back towards the recording session area.

Hellboy has posed:
    Sometime later, Hellboy had followed Wade, to wherever Wade had led him. Rolling that stone right hand along the wrist and flexing the fingers, every sound it made was like a stone grave lid being slowly opened, and every so often glowing yellow runes and symbols could be seen in it, clearly it was something with a history. Clearly every part of this guy had a history, what with the filed down horn stumps and the chosen profession.

    Looking around the room curiously, Hellboy spoke.

    "Alright, Maguire, here we are. Now show me the money. Or, the creepy letter, either one works."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The office itself is pretty simple. While the furniture is of good quality, the pieces appear to be chosen based off of need. There is a desk, some chairs, and a rather comfy looking futon set up against the wall. It seems that the session musicians are not the only ones who have crashed in the building overnight. The desk is also pretty sparse. A laptop locked to the desk, a notepad, a pen cup, a newspaper and a single framed photo showing Wade with three men of similar age smiling with an older looking man backstage somewhere. The members of Silver Round, and a manager.

Wade nods, having paused to give Gary instructions during the trip to his office, he is now behind Hellboy as he enters in, having to shuffle around the red guy to get behind the desk. "One moment." He leans down, opening a desk drawer before pulling out an envelope, stored in a ziploc bag. He sets the bag down on the desktop.

Hellboy has posed:
    While Wade is getting things ready, Hellboy is also making preparations. Upon the same desk where the letter in a baggy is placed down, Big Red sets down a pair of tweezers, and old blue book of matches that look exceptionally old, an old tin candle holder and a something long and and narrow wrapped up in a blue silk hankerchief. HB is meticulous in placing the mdown, the order in which he places them down, and how they are facing each other. As he works carefully, he speaks slowly while not taking his attention from his work.

    "Mr. Shaw, I'm going to ask you to stand as far back as you possibly can, maybe get behind a book shelf or something. Has anybody touched this letter with their bare hands?"

    He pulls out one more thing, a small brown leather pouch filled with...something. Currently the drawstrings are closed tight, but he places it next to the letter carefully and gently. Obviously, he was taking this part seriously.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"I did before I read it. And I'm sure his agent did as well." Wade admits, inching his way towards the door, hand resting on the door handle. Nothing further back than outside the office. He looks to Hellboy's actions. "So, what is it you're doing with it?"

Hellboy has posed:
    "Well, I have no idea what it could be, whether it's just a creepy letter from a weirdo, or if it's a gateway to Garth Brooks' career, or if it's something even worse. But if it's mystical in nature, then it's important that every precaution is taken before it's even properly handled."

    As he speaks, he pulls the drawstring and the pouch slips open, and that left hand is reaching in to pull out a good handful of salt. That hand starts circling around the possibly evil cursed wicked bad letter, slowly encasing the thing in a protective boundary.

    Next come the tweezers, carefully pulling the ziploc open, and reaching inside to actually pull that letter out into the open air. He stops and waits for a long while after that, not moving a muscle as he waits for any kind of a reaction. If there wasn't, then that was a good sign. If not, well, they'd cross that bridge if they came to it.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
And so the tension rises. What on earth will this forboding envelope do? Will a wild Miley appear on a mystical wrecking ball? Will people suffer from an achy breaky cardiac arrest?! A hush falls over the room as they watch.

The letter sits there. All letter-y.

"If it did that, wouldn't it have happened when it was opened the first time?" Wade asks curiously, breaking the silence as his hand leaves the door handle.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Well, not necessarily. This isn't like a science, with hard and concrete 'rules'. Trigger bomb, bomb explodes, that sort of A to B thinking can get you in trouble."

    The other rituals are performed after. The candle is placed in the candle holder and lit, and very quickly a stinking fragrance wafted and filled the room. Even Hellboy has to turn his head for a moment to avoid retching. But soon, everything is put in motion, and the letter is finally ready to be opened. Within it, Hellboy would find...

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Inside the envelope is a folded piece of parchment paper. The scent of the material, although mostly overpowered by whatever ungodly Yankee Candle reject Hellboy lit earlier, there is the hint of a musty smell, complimenting the yellowed tint of the paper. The ink is much fresher but the patterning of the cursive writing betrays an older writing utensil. The writing, precise, mirroring what one would find in a cursive handwriting instructional text.

As for the letter:


Happy Halloween,

As is in the nature of the season, I had another opportunity to view you in your first film role. Beautifully amusing as always. So full of promise.

But as much as I love to watch, I've found listening to you to be quite exhilarating as well. I wonder if that magic voice will stand the test of time and just how long until the energy you bring to the stage starts to slow.

But perhaps I can help you find your inner Dominic.

I understand you may not be all that receptive to it at first as it will keep you from honoring your promise to play Thornton but I'm sure with time you'll grow to understand sacrifices have to be made to do what is necessary.

There will be so much time to find acceptance later.

Yours, Forever.

Hellboy has posed:
    If Hellboy was at all surprised by the contents of the letter, it didn't show up on his face. Instead, as he finished reading, and gave the paper a good sniff from where he was, he began the slow process of folding the paper back up, putting it back in its envelope, and putting it back in the baggy...although he then put that baggy inside a round metallic container with old writing carved into it. Closing it tightly and putting it back in his belt, he quickly snuffed the candle and started taking apart and putting away his tools. The pouch of salt was taken away...though the mess of the ring was still right where it was.

    "Well, nothing exploded, so that's pretty good. I'm going to be taking this letter back to the lab where it can be analyzed and probed in a safer environment. In the meantime, the agent I brought with me here, he'll be keeping an eye on Mr. Drago. If nothing happens immediately, I'd appreciate it if you could schedule a meeting between him and us, so we can talk about this situation in a bit more detail. So uhh...we'll keep in touch."

    With that, Hellboy was gone, and now at least one room in this building had salt all over the placed and smelled truly awful.