5472/OPERATION HARD RESET, Stage Three: Ill-Met in Tiki Bar

OPERATION HARD RESET, Stage Three: Ill-Met in Tiki Bar
Date of Scene:	01 October 2018
Location:	Madripoor Nights Tiki Bar / Silvermane Suites Motor Inn
Synopsis:	The Howling Commandos drink, smoke, and eat trash. They talk strategy, sort of. Everyone's wearing sunglasses.
Cast of Characters:	Derek Khanata, Hellboy, Ash Williams, Ghost Rider (Blaze)
Tinyplot:	ASTRAL FLUX

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Derek Khanata has posed:
Black '65 Impala converible, top down, red interior. At the wheel: Derek Khanata, Agent of SHIELD. Taking up the back bench seat: Hellboy. It's 11 o'clock, the moon is out, obligatory cigarettes and sunglasses.

"When you picked Williams, I have to admit--I thought you were yanking my chain. Meeting him, though, I'm inclined to think he's the real deal. He mentioned a crew, but seemed more like a loner to me--his way or the highway. We'll see how he takes to you as team lead."

The neon glow of a gigantic, half-busted cowboy advertising Arby's illuminates the ritual scars on Khanata's face, giving him a satanic look as he grins into the rear view mirror, "Looks like he started shacking up with a waitress at a tiki bar attached to a fleabag motel, he should be there tonight. I'll make the introductions, but you'll take the lead from there, get you two acquainted."

Hellboy has posed:
    "Yeah well, I remember seeing all that on the news. When the Bureau sent a team to check out a cabin later, we were all pretty impressed that a guy like Ash was able to make it out of there. There's always that survivor in a group. Whether it's a guy or a girl, there's always someone who's gonna live at all costs, come hell or highwater."

    As he spoke, he idly looked at his hand, until it started glowing underneath the neon sign. There was something really Simon and Garfunkel about this whole situation at the moment, but he didn't talk about it.

    "Yeah, that's fine."

Ash Williams has posed:
Well, there's worse places to spend the night than in a shady motel, right? Even if that means the Delta and the Airstream are being neglected in favour of flea-covered sheets and dancing with VD. But he's had worse itches. Ash opens the front door to the hotel while adjusting his pants, strangely absent one of his hands, to get a breath of air that doesn't smell like... Well, here.

In fairness to Ash, he recognises the Impala pretty easily, and he offers a wave once he's zipped and buttoned up. "Oh, hey, Derek, right? And you've bought some kind of... Uh. Red Gorilla?" He suggests with a slightly uneasy smile.

Derek Khanata has posed:
The parking lot of the Madripoor Nights Tiki Bar and Silvermane Suites Motor Inn was quiet tonight, only a handful of regulars manning the bar and business travelers in their beds. Johnny Paycheck croons soulfully through the open bar door.

As Khanata pulls up next to the Airstream, Ash is already there. He thumbs at the back seat, "The big guy's called Hellboy. He's been on the payroll pushing 75 years now and is the toughest, most capable agent that BPRD's got. Wanted you two to meet; Hellboy's leading the squad."

"Hellboy, Ash Williams. They say he does wonders with a chainsaw and a shotgun."

Khanata stifles a yawn, "Yelp says the barbeque's pretty good. You boys want to grab a drink and some chow?"

Hellboy has posed:
    For his part, Big Red poured out of the backseat and landed on his hooves relatively gracefully, his body not quite hidden by that large trenchcoat of his, and especially didn't hide that massive stone right hand as he lifted it to give a wave.

    "Hey, what's going on. I'd shake your hand, but, well..."

    He let that hang in the air awkwardly, just looking around at Derek and Ash with that ugly, slack-jawed look on his face, his underbite especially apparant in the wild lighting of this parking lot. From behind him, something seemed to produce a six-pack of cold looking beers, though, and the red man took them in the palm of his hand, presenting them to the group.

    "But, hey. I've come bearing gifts, and all that. Hope ya like Shemp's."

Ash Williams has posed:
"Seventy Five? Shit, here was I thinking I was a vet. Hellboy, huh? You guys need to have a chat with your PR department." So says Ashy Slashy. "It's gonna feel weird calling him a boy is all I'm saying. 'Specially if he's in charge. Well, you look like you can handle a strong drink and kick the crap of something if it goes ass-backwards, so maybe you guys are alright." Ash chuckles.

Ash holds up his stump, and the metal attachment that is now his wrist. "If it was still there, you'd crush it with those massive meat-hunks of yours. Lucky me, about fourty years ago mine went bad, and I had to cut it off, and then I had to kill it a few times for good measure." And he seems like he's in good spirits though about it. "Total babe magnet, long as you don't mention the evil. Beer me?" He suggests, holding out his good hand instead.

Derek Khanata has posed:
"You're telling me; see how 'Agent Hellboy' rolls off the tongue."

Khanata lights another cigarette as he steps out of the car. He's in a fitted, light grey suit and thin black tie, impeccable as always.

"Beer me."

The Wakandan takes a bottle and cracks it open, "Panther God be praised. What a week."

He stretches out a hand to Williams, "Good to see you. Johnny should be riding up in a few minutes. How's the pulled pork?"

Hellboy has posed:
    Ash, at his request, is beered. Cold can is lobbed at his good hand, and the throw was a heavy one, though it wasn't a hand-breaker or anything. If Derek wanted in on the booze-train then HB launched one at him as well. Though all the talk about his name bugged him a little, you'd never know it by looking at his face. Hearing him was a different matter.

    "Yeah, I don't know what all the hubbub is about my name. Agent Hellboy sounds fine. A guy named 'Goldman' didn't start out as 'Goldboy', right? It's practically the same thing."

    He spoke as he took one of the beers for himself, and immediately downed half of it in one swig. Hellboy was a big machine, and needed a lot of fuel to keep himself going.

    "So, you build that robo-hand of yers in a garage, or what? Looks like a, what are those...a knight glove, is it?"

Ash Williams has posed:
"She wasn't the worst I've ever had, but far from the best." Ash mentions, with a gesture of his head towards his sleeping companion, catching the beer and removing the cap with his belt buckle. "Hey, I'm not saying it's a bad name, it's just kind of weird for me to be calling you 'boy' when you're massive, red, and apparently older than me." Although Ash looks by far the most senior in this group.

Short of hands at the moment, Ash offers Derek a tap of his beer, before he takes a healthy mouthful. "Figure the food here won't suck too much though." Ash looks down at his stump a moment later, "Kind of. Made most of it from scrap I found in an old shed, and strapped a chainsaw to it. Got a hand for it too, but it's, uh, currently inside. Don't think I'll be needing it right now."

Ghost Rider (Blaze) has posed:
It's in that moment that another member of the 'Howling Commandos' would arrive. Johnny Blaze, who's well associated with the trio enjoying drinks, walks up to the group after parking his bike next to Derek's black impala. Dismounging his vehicle, Johnny lights himself a cigarette and puts it in the corner of his mouth, approaching and entering Madripoor Nights soon after.

"Starting parties without me? I'm almost insulted." He was talking to Derek, but he gives Hellboy a pat on the back that isn't very forceful at all. He didn't want to hurt the demon, after all. But, his eyes dart to Ash.

"Well, I see we managed to meet the handyman." he glances to Ash's missing hand then back at Ash. "Good to see ya." He now looks to the group in question.

"Got room for one more Spirit?"

Derek Khanata has posed:
They form a motley crew--crusty biker, hulking giant, jet-black super-spy, and monster hunter on the skids--when they cruise into the Madripoor Nights. The Cramps' 'Teenage Werewolf' kicks onto a vintage jukebox. Peanut shells and Solo Cups litter the floor. Thick cigar smoke rolls from the open mouth of the bartender, a short, blocky, square-jawed man with a strong resemblance to a young Jack Kirby.

"Cripes."

The blue lights cast a surreal glare as Khanata steps to the bar, "Gin and tonic and two pulled pork sandos, extra onions, and whatever these ruffians are having."

"Sure thing, pal. Your friends aren't looking for any trouble?"

That wry grin. "You'll have to ask them. They sure look like trouble."

Hellboy has posed:
    It seemed Hellboy was used to that question, because his response was automatic: Pulling back his trenchcoat, flashing a SHIELD badge, and also making sure his oversized quadshooter was visible when he did so.

    "No, no trouble, we're official, don't worry. Couple'a beers and a couple'a steaks, please. An' some hot sauce, please."

    Hellboy wasn't helping with the cigar smoke, adding to the air with his own standard Malrboro variety. Sitting there at the table, he looked around at the swirling lights and the sounds of chaos. He spoke, but it was hard to hear his low rolling tone over this madness. It was probably something very clever, like "It's loud in here."

Ash Williams has posed:
"Gotta say, not loving the nickname, but I'm happy you're trying." Ash responds, although it's hard to beat him down over it. Especially after a night with a waitress who might have left most of her best years behind her, but still has a few good ones left. He makes his way into the bar with a casual chuckle.

"Listen, the only trouble I'm looking to get into is as many shots as I can handle, one of those porky-sandwhiches and then an earful from Carla when I stagger back in there without pants on." Putting the Ass back in Classy, Ash Williams. Draining his beer, it's tossed into a nearby bin, and he looks around as if he's forgotten something. Wallet, possibly. Cigarettes? "Anyone got a smoke?"

Ghost Rider (Blaze) has posed:
Johnny looks to Derek and gives him a little smirk as he sees the group, though Johnny lets out a puff of smoke as the bartender just makes sure there won't be any trouble from this motley crew of outcasts. Johnny did glance to Hellboy. "Where did you even get that gun anyway?" he can sense the presence on it. It's bathed in the blood of many a monster. before his eye shifts to Ash, before handing him his own pack of cigars with a lighter as well. "Here. Don't say I never did anything for ya."

Eyes flash back to the bartender. "Whiskey." not even a please? damn.

"So then, what's on the agenda for today?" he side-eyes Derek. "Who else on that list o' yours?"

Derek Khanata has posed:
"Gentlemen, to the Howling Commandos!'

Khanata raises his red cup to those assembled, "Let's hope we can live up to the name."

He tosses it back and returns Johnny's smirk, "Glad you could make it, kid."

"We'll get into the rest of the candidates after the food arrives. What I heard was that Big Red here got us together to figure out our SOP going forward, so everybody knows who's doing what when the rubber hits the road."

The Wakandan nudges Hellboy with his elbow, "Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll give us an inspirational speech before the night is out."

Hellboy has posed:
    Oh boy, Hellboy was in the booster seat, now. He took a big gulp of his ice-water, ignoring the burning cold, and just sat in silence for a few minutes. He thought back to what they knew about this operation, which wasn't much, so he decided to just start from there.

    "Well uhh, you guys remember those mushrooms a while back ago? The big ones that came from space, used to see them growing all over the places? We're probably gonna be dealing with more of those, so our general plan is don't set them on fire. Also, we're dealing with a lot of psychic mumbo jumbo, so be prepared for that. It'd be nice if we could all get Magneto helmets, but I don't know if SHIELD's got that sort of thing figured out, yet. Beyond that, y'know uhh, the plan is to wreck shit and not die. When we're there in the field, we'll probably get a good sense of what it is we're supposed to break. But even then, I think we just break everything, just to erre on the side of caution."

    "Man, where are those steaks?"

Ash Williams has posed:
Ash seems quite deft with his only hand, secreting a cigarette and returning the packet, and then lifting the lighter to his lips with a practiced flick so it can be returned just in time to grab the bourbon that's just been poured. "Well that's awful kind of you. And I don't know if speeches are really in our style, right? You want speeches, hire politicians."

Of course, Hellboy is obliged to say something, and Ash self-summarises. "Right, so no fire, probably no explosives, and try to avoid having some weird thing take over my body yet again. Groovy."

Ghost Rider (Blaze) has posed:
Johnny smiles to Derek. lifting a glass to his toast before he gulps his whiskey and plants it down. "Standard procedure. alright." He turns in his seat to look at Hellboy as he gives the speech of the year. "Well...I guess that's pretty much to the point of it." Johnny shrugs and gives a bit of a shake of his head to Hellboy, amused.

"Well...Guess we wing it." he lets out a puff of smoke then before his eyes look to Ash.

"Well I thought he did alright."

Derek Khanata has posed:
Khanata gives Hellboy's shoulder an encouraging clap, "Don't let him fool you, he's a master tactician."

"Look, I'll give it to you straight: I know that the lot of you have traditionally been solo operators, living out there on the edge with little or no support. Hell, most of us are monsters of one sort or another. But if we're not going to crash and burn out there, we're going to need to learn how to work together. This little shindig is just a hash session--we throw out some ideas about who'd be suited for what, at least get a general game plan."

"Topic's open for discussion, boys."

Plates of steaming meat are rolled out. Kirby, Jr. seems to have taken it all in good humor, dishing it out with a look of bemused disbelief. "Let me guess: insurance salesmen?"

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy didn't dig right in, instead, he was slathering his various stakes in A-1, as well as different sorts of hot sauces. Like...a lot a lot. He didn't even look up when answering the hard working waiter.

    "Yeah, vacuums door to door. Hell of a life, got the scars to prove it."

    After draining one of his many beers in a second or two, he finally got to work on his meal, now that the sauces and spices had settled a bit. If he was bothered by the amount of death he put on them, he didn't seem to show it, instead just thinking back to the topic at hand.

    "The Avengers Mansion went missing the other day, right? It means we're gonna fight evil Avengers, I was saying that to these two the other day."

    'These two', gesturing to Derek and Johnny. He went on as he put another fork-ful of dead cow into his mouth.

    "And if this guy's got a whole team of 'psychic bodies' he can use, I'm wondering how many of those he can control at once. Can he send an army to deal with us, while doing something else, somewhere else?"

Ash Williams has posed:
"I'm gonna be blunt. The way I see it, Big guy here," Ash gestures with a cigarette to Hellboy, "Looks like he can take the ass-kicking to end all ass kickings, so he's front and center. The kid," A nod of his head, "Some kind of half-demon thing, so he's close enough to whatever the big gun is gonna be." A clear of his throat, and the clearly past-middle-aged hero adds, "And my boomstick and I bring up the rear, and somewhere along the way we shove a chainsaw up whatever fungus monster's the cause of all this mischief - Back home in time for some brews and wings." At least he's not in denial that he's human, right? Or just a bit lazy.

"Seems like the only intel we've got is bad intel, and leaning on it's just gonna land us in crap creek. And even if we had /good/ intel," Ash pauses to have a mouthful of beer, "You're telling me that there's gonna be a better plan for it? Evil Avengers, Psychic Armies, all that crap? You got a contingency for it? 'Cos otherwise we just got to use our 'maginations and get through." And with that, he takes a sandwhich, and crams far more of it into his mouth than is decent.

And the immortal blue shirt immediately gets a gravy stain.

Ghost Rider (Blaze) has posed:
Johnny looks annoyed. "The next time someone calls me a kid, I'm shoving their teeth so far down their throat they'll need to shove a tooth brush up their ass to brush them." His eyes narrow //directly// at Ash. Before he seems to calm down. Johnny was deceptively powerful...maybe it's because he's not flaming skull at the moment.

Either way, he seems relatively approving of the positional planning. "Works for me." His glance goes to Hellboy.

"There might not be a set limit. When they made the move on Avengers Mansion, he was controlling a full streets worth of random bystanders. I'm only slightly nervous what it'd be like if he managed to get into heroes skulls that weren't the avengers. He'd have the strongest force in the world right then and there."

Derek Khanata has posed:
Khanata rubs his chin, "Hmm. Blaze might be best suited as your point man--he's highly mobile, good scout, can be wherever you need him to be on the battlefield. I like Red in the middle and you following up the rear. Sounds flexible enough that it'll work as a default."

He begins to devour the squashed pulled pork sandwich, saucy chunks falling on the paper plate in his lap, "If the network goes down when you take out the server, we're hoping that'll wake up any sleepwalkers, Avengers or otherwise, who might be brought into play. Ash is right, though--our intel is crap. While we're rounding up the rest of the recruits, we should fix that as best we can."

"I see two tasks ahead of us: we bring in a big hoodoo man to run some astral forensics, nail down how the network works and what the weak points are, as well as get you a better sense of what the local defenses are going to look like. There's a few people on WAND's rolodex that we can look up: there's a Doctor Stephen Strange and a John Constantine, if either of those names mean anything to you. Oh, yeah, and Magneto's grandson, Wiccan. SHIELD's very interested in bringing him in."

"Second thing we've got to nail down is a hollowed-out telepath. This one's going to need some straightforward detective work; SHIELD knows of a few folks who controlled the fungus telepathically, which we think is what causes the mental wipe. The magic boys'll need him as a vessel for this Visitor."

Hellboy has posed:
    At this point Hellboy was just silent, eating patiently as he glanced between Derek, Ash and Johnny. Johnny in particular he was keeping his eye on...Kid definitely had a temper, that might be something to deal with later.

    For now, though, he said nothing, and continued cutting at his steak. Actually interesting to note that, due to the size of his stone hand, when he ate, he seemed to be limited to the left, just like Ash.

Ash Williams has posed:
"You don't wanna be called it? Then don't let it get to ya as soon as someone says something you don't like. Big Red here," Damn that feels weird. Not just to say, but Ash is talking with his mouth full and someone is definitely getting some sloppy seconds, "Y'think he gives a hot damn what you call him? You're young, you got plenty of time to find things to get mad about. Grey hairs. Waking up to pee. Weird lumps." His voice fades there, as if he loses himself in thought.

"Hey now, there is one thing that could be helpful. Any of your group got that mind-stealing power you could use for training? 'Cos I ain't worried too much about something trying to steal it's way into my noodle - I've fought that fight before - but might be there's something good in it if you've never had your brain pan rattled round some." Ash's bizarre grasp of English seems just folksy enough to throw anyone not used to it. The sandwich annhilation is finished, and chased with more bourbon, before Ash waves.

"Anywho, I'm not gonna leave Carla waiting much longer. Gotta go get my hand back and my leg in, if you get what I'm sayin'." And with that, he departs.

Ghost Rider (Blaze) has posed:
Johnny glances to Hellboy as he locks his eyes on him, before he shrugs. and looks to Ash. "Do tell." he seems to sigh before he stands up and downs his drink. "I need to get going to. Got a lady who doesn't like it when I keep her waiting." He looks to Derek.

"I think I have someone in mind. But I'm not entirely sure he'll feel like helping." then Derek goes and names out his choice. "Damn. I was gonna snag the kid. John might be a better choice. More willing to make hard calls...but I'll have trouble not hitting him in the head with a baseball bat. Got a mouth on him." he shrugs.

"I'll see what I can do about Wiccan." his eyes glance to everyone. "See you around, Howling Commandos." and Johnny walks out, mounting his bike and driving away.

Derek Khanata has posed:
Khanata sighs and bites into his second sandwich, "Well, guess that was about as much as one could expect. They both've taken a shine to you, though; that's a start. What's your read on them so far?"

The music swells, a psychedelic swamp rock number, and an older couple, thick blue eyeliner and faded stetsons, boozily swaying alone. The last Commandos standing settle in for a long night of strategy, logistics, and cheap booze.