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If nobody manages that, there is plenty of space in the treehouse here and it seems to be quieter than most suites. Feel free to come over.

[ Oh, there are so many ways she could respond to this, and just the fact that he offered at all makes her take a moment to close her eyes and pinch the bridge of her nose and wonder why this is her life.

Finally: ] You actually live in a treehouse?

[ That's the safest response coming to mind. And also bullshit, because she knows exactly where he and everyone else connected to the other Avengers lives. ]

[No, really, he means the offer. What's wrong with it? Ma'am?]

More or less. Not a house on a tree, the suite is actually carved in a tree trunk. Quiet and peaceful.

I see. I'll keep it in mind, thank you. I sleep better on familiar territory, but I'm not exactly doing any better here.

Are you always this accommodating for near-strangers?

A beautiful, brave dame in need? What can I say?

[ She might be smiling a little to herself, while at the same time she tries to imagine a different man saying those words, and can't quite hear it. ]

Very generous of you, sergeant.

[...no. He probably wouldn't.]

My absolute pleasure, Ms. Romanoff.

[And, just in case, encrypted to his best, meager 30%.]

Or should this be 'Agent'?

[ She'll leave that encryption at 30% for now - it's not as if, after the incident with the Black Kirin, it's all that difficult to have figured out what she is. ]

If you'd prefer. It doesn't pay to be too concerned about what people call you in my line of work.

[Yeah, well... there are people who showed up later.]

Does that mean that asking what your actual preference is would be fruitless?

Agent. Or Natasha.

I'll remember that, then. Natasha.

that bad?

It's more of an annoyance than anything else, but it's constant, and they won't go away.

How is it at your place?

a couple hanging around. not too much noise, just... i'm trying not to look at their faces.

Why? Mine aren't much more than mist, so there's not much to look at.

i don't know. you're right, it's just mist and color, but-- it's still weird.

If I manage to get rid of mine, you're welcome to stay until this is over.

i think you just stole my line.

I'm sorry. Would you like to make the offer anyway?

i think the effect's gone, now.

[It's moments like this HB really wishes he could use a goddamn keyboard. Or, well, he could. But typing left-handed takes him forever and he doesn't have that kind of patience. So video it is.]

Sure. I can have those guys out of there in two minutes. Just need an address.

[ If she's surprised or put off by his appearance, it doesn't show, and her response is almost immediate. ]

That quickly? Done.

Fire Sector, 1B. I'll be waiting.

All right. I'll be there.

[It takes Hellboy about an hour to get there on foot, his walk through the city being constantly interrupted by a poltergeist throwing rocks at his head, or ghosts trying to stop him along the way to sell their nonexistent wares or ask him for directions to places he's never heard of.

It's definitely one of the worst hauntings he's ever seen, and he wishes he could do more than just keep driving them from place to place. These people needed peace, and he had no idea how the hell to give it to them.

The whole situation put him in a bad mood, but at the same time, he was happy for the distraction of work. After all the horrible crap he's been through, three days spent traveling the city, knocking on doors and chasing out ghosts felt a little like old times, and that was just fine with him.

It's well after dark when he arrives at suite 1B and knocks on the door with his normal hand.]

[ Natasha doesn't mind waiting. It's something you get a lot of practice at as a spy, and if she can ignore the spirits doing their very best to get her attention, there's plenty to keep her occupied. Still, she is relieved at the knock, and only pauses to shut down her console and tuck away the notes she's been making before getting to her feet and going to answer the door.

Her eyes flick over him in a quick, silent assessment, no flicker of expression on her face to give away her thoughts, and then she steps back and holds the door open for him, inclining her head in invitation. ] I don't think I caught your name.

[ Lies. He may not have said it to her, but she stalks the network like it is her job. ]

[Hellboy's bulk easily takes up the entire doorway, all seven feet, four hundred pounds of red skin and muscle. Then there's the tail, held curled behind him and those glowing, golden eyes. But more than anything, there's that hand. Massive, three-fingered, and seemingly made of stone. With a hand like that, who needs to carry a weapon? The .45 US Army-issue pistol holstered at his left hip seems almost laughable.

Needless to say, not many people take his appearance in stride like this woman just did. It's one thing for the kedan, but he knows for a lot of the foreigners it can be a little much. She can color him impressed.

He ducks through the door, hooves clicking across the floor as he peers around for signs of ghosts.]

Hellboy.

[He tilts his head, glancing down at her, trying to remember if he ever learned her name. All he knows is she was associated with what went down at the Black Kirin Headquarters, but they never did get the chance to meet directly.]

Good to meet you, miss...

Natasha Romanoff. [ She smirks faintly and quirks an eyebrow like she's wondering if that's his real name, but if she is, she doesn't actually ask, just closes the door behind him. ] Thank you for coming up here. I-

[ She breaks off to duck as one of the spirits - more mist than form - hurls a thankfully empty mug at her head. When she straightens, it's with a level glare at the ghost, a touch of boredom to the expression because this has been going on for a while. ]

I hope that's not supposed to convince me not to get rid of them... [ No, she is not speaking directly to the ghosts. She is not giving them that satisfaction. If they're even... conscious enough to have emotional reactions like that... ]

Hey! [He shouts at the ghost as the mug shatters to pieces on the floor. Hellboy knows a lot about ghosts, and if there's one thing they're good at, it's emotional reactions. That's pretty much all ghosts are: echoes of the thoughts and emotions these people felt when they were still alive. Usually they're pretty harmless, but sometimes they can get nasty. Either these guys are spiteful sons of bitches, or they're just lashing out because they've been disturbed. Either way Hellboy can't help feeling a little bad for them. He just wished he knew why the hell they were here in the first place.

...Then one chucks a plate at his head, missing it by inches. It explodes against the wall in a shower of broken porcelain, and any pity he once held for them had vanished. Now they were just making him angry.] Jeez!

Well they're pissed off at something. [He brushes the dust off his jacket.]

I can have them out of here in a minute. First we need to go around and open all the windows. Then I've got some stuff that should do the trick.

[ Natasha grimaces as the plate shatters, but doesn't actually duck that one - anything aimed at Hellboy's head would have to go pretty far off the mark to hit her, after all. ]

Clearly. At least they haven't set anything on fire yet... [ And let's hope that doesn't give them any ideas.

She moves to open the nearest window, though she's still watching him as she does, and she cocks an eyebrow as she asks, tone mildly curious: ] What are you doing, exactly?

[Hellboy, in the meantime, is occupied by ghosts hurling things in his direction. They've probably figured out what he's here for, and don't take too kindly to the eviction notice. He tries to ignore them along with his growing irritation, moving around the room, helping Natasha crack open the windows.]

It's a cleansing ritual, works great for most of your standard hauntings. Pretty basic stuff. Open the windows, burn some sage, and send the ghosts packing. It's worked pretty well on these guys so far.

[He slides open another window just as a pair of ghosts dump an armful of books on his head. One clocks him on the horn before he can protect himself from the barrage. He glowers up at them, pointing threateningly with his massive stone hand.] All right, I've had just about enough of that!

[ Natasha finishes with the last window in the main room and turns just as the books come down on top of him. There's a faint twitch of a smirk, but it's not unsympathetic - she's been dealing with this nonsense for a couple days now. ]

It's really that simple? I'm not complaining, but... [ She shrugs. Magic and ghosts and so on leave her feeling uncharacteristically out of her depth, and it's a feeling she's not fond of. ]

Sure. [Something clinks and rattles as Hellboy rifles through the many pockets of his belt for the sage and a match. He finds the sage all right, but it takes a little fishing to find his matchbook amidst his collection of wards and charms.

For the moment the ghosts seem fairly nonplussed, circling over head like a swirling cloud of mist. At least they're not throwing stuff anymore. That was really starting to get on his nerves. But chances are that's probably gonna change in about a minute. The methods might be simple, but the results aren't always so easy to predict.] Some guys will give you the whole song and dance...use a whole bunch of fancy equipment, put on a real show. But if you want to get the job done, I stick to the basics.

[Holding the dried bundle of sage in his massive right hand, he finally finds the matchbook. Before lighting it, he glances steadily at Natasha.] This might piss them off before it gets better.

[ Natasha watches his movements with a quiet intensity somewhat masked by apparent simple curiosity. She catches his gaze when she looks at her, and nods with an amused quirk of her lips. ] Go ahead. I'm not going to start running away now.

[Hellboy nods once before striking the match against the stone-like flesh of his right forearm and lighting the bundle of herbs. Smoke immediately permeates the air, and overhead, the misty apparitions seem to vanish in an instant.

For a moment, it seems as though it's a job well done. But Hellboy knows better.

It's never that easy.

Then, the lights flicker and go out. Hellboy only frowns, still holding the smouldering bundle above his head, his yellow eyes narrowed.]

All right, none of this crap. The lady says it's time to go.

[But the ghosts obviously have other plans. There's a horrible screeching sound in the dark as every piece of furniture in the place is hurled toward them, scraped across the floor with a hideous racket. In a moment they're surrounded by a mismatched wall of tables, sofas and chairs.

All the while, Hellboy doesn't flinch, his warning low and even.]

I'm not gonna hurt you unless you make me. I said you're not welcome here, so scram.

Is there a place you can stay if they cannot be removed?

I have a few friends I can impose on. I'll manage.

Good. Though I hope at least the ghosts in your suite are more the annoying sort than malicious.

They're no danger, just irritating and persistent. Are yours the aggressive type?

Not particularly. Though if the haunting continues when my suite is rebuilt, who's to say what those might be like?

[With nearby kedan getting burned to death and all that.]

Let's hope it doesn't go on that long. There's only so much of this supernatural nonsense that I can take at a stretch.

Considering we're on a giant swimming turtle, I suspect ghosts may be the least nonsensical we come across.

The turtle actually doesn't bother me as much.

No, I do agree, all things considered; I only meant it sort of lends itself to said future supernatural nonsense.

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