Red Right Hand

crownedwithfire @ 2009-09-30T21:46:00

2009-10-01T03:46:38Z

crownedwithfire @ 2009-09-30T10:10:00

2009-09-30T16:21:11Z

Character: Hellboy NAME Character LJ: crownedwithfire
Canon: Hellboy

General: Needs to get out more. Very quiet.
Needs threads with: Anyone who wants 'em.

Character: Hiro Nakamura NAME Character LJ: supaahiro
Canon: HEROES

General: Happy-ish. Needs a companion to shake hmi out of his geek shell, needs to sword-fight more, needs to train more, needs to get some much needed heroic conflict. Met Claire again, happy to have someone to pal around with, even if they're not in the same time-span.
Needs threads with: Adam, Claire, Comic-shop folk, other Heroes folk, new people.

Character: Penelope Wilhern Character LJ: hideouspiggirl
Canon: Penelope

General: Needs more friends. Need more lady friends. Needs to meet people who are not rich WASPS. Needs to have her first love (though she's already had her first broken heart) but finding a suitable guy-- and getting her to think 'dating' instead of 'getting married right now dammit' is difficult.
Needs threads with: Ricky, Botanical Center folk, anybody and anyone her age-range.

Character: Severus Snape Character LJ: bestunrevealed
Canon: Harry Potter and the Unhappy Potions Master

General: He's okay in game, but will soon be made miserable, which will continually decrease the enjoyment I get playing him. Plot potential may still be there with Harry, but getting less feasible.
Needs threads with: Albus, Minerva, so-forth.

Character: Raphael Character LJ: thebadturtle
Canon: TMNT (Mirage Comics)

General: Needs to get something like balance back; taking care of Max, patrolling, training will make a ragged Raph fast, but that's where he's headed. Angry. If he finds out about Bruce Wayne's gig, there may be green party crashers; probably ought to approach that somehow, if just for the amusing sight of Batman getting bitched out by a sixteen year old turtle. Raph's at a steady simmer right now -- he may seem calm, but his brothers probably realize he's just building up to a huge blow-out with SOMEBODY. Just-- the question is, who will it be?
Needs threads with: Max, Carolyn, Rorschach, Mike, Leo, Jax, Grendel's Mum, possibly Riddick since he hasn't seen him in a while, Goldie definitely, Kerai. Needs to touch base with a lot of folks.

Hellboy: He's a good guy.

2009-09-25T23:44:23Z

The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to Purgatory!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	High
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	High
Level 2 (Lustful)	Low
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Very Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	Moderate
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Very Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Test

crownedwithfire @ 2009-08-12T17:45:00

2009-08-12T23:45:18Z

I say we take off and nuke the entire Hellboy from orbit.

Which movie was this quote from?

5 pieces of headcanon

2009-06-20T00:51:16Z

1: Hellboy hasn't had sex with anyone since splitting up with Stacie. That was in '83. No flings. No libido satisfaction. No one night stands. Nothing. There are priests less celibate then Hellboy.

2: ...he would have been tempted, if Kate Corrigan had intimated she was interested in him in anything but a professional manner. Very tempted. She's a good friend, intelligent, but -- a coworker, and human. Whether or not something would have happened, who can say?

3: The knowledge that some part of him was born from a human mother-- even if he was gestated in the soul, and born in hell-- makes him feel a little better; like choice is really a possibility, and he may avert the inevitable.

4: If he could retire-- really retire-- and not ever have to deal with another supernatural thing ever, he would want to run an orphanage and have a billion kids underfoot, and just be -- giving back to the world what his father gave to him. Understanding, love, and not giving a damn that he was not Broom's flesh and blood.

5: Hellboy can sing; he's a bass, sang in church choir when he was stationed on a base for any extended time. He fell out of going to church-- and singing-- as he got older-- but he's got range and volume like few out there. Of course, this might have to do with the fact that he is four hundred pound eight foot tall goat-demon guy. But maybe he's just well vocally trained, too!

crownedwithfire @ 2008-09-19T19:27:00

2008-09-20T01:27:56Z

Your Dominant Intelligence is Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence

You are naturally athletic and coordinated, good at making your mind and body work together.

Sports are fun and easy for you, especially those requiring good hand - eye coordination.

There's also a good chance you're a great dancer, or good at expressing yourself through body language.

You learn best by doing, and you feel like you've always got to be moving (even if it's just your hands).

You would make a good athlete, physical education teaches, dancer, actor, firefighter, or artisan.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

crownedwithfire @ 2008-09-19T03:42:00

2008-09-19T09:42:29Z

What color is your soul painted?

Red

Your soul is painted the color red, which embodies the characteristics of love, strength, physical energy, sex, passion, courage, protection, excitement, speed, leadership, power, danger, and respect. Red is the color of the element Fire, and is associated with blood, life and death, birth, volcanoes, and intense emotions.

Click Here to Take This Quiz
Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

Not Red.

2008-09-18T08:33:01Z

Your Psyche is Blue

You are deeply emotional and very connected to everything (and everyone) around you.

By simply understanding other people, you are able to help them heal and let go.

While you are a very deep and thoughtful person, you do have a very silly, superficial side.

When you are too blue: the weight of the world's problems hangs over you

When you don't have enough blue: you lack perspective and understanding

What Color Is Your Psyche?

[OOC] ... not right at all.

2008-08-30T09:15:00Z

Have You Forgotten How Good Hellboy Tastes?

Generated by the Advertising Slogan Generator. Get more Hellboy slogans.

"Get The Door - It's Hellboy." was also particularly hilarious.

Voicemail.

2008-08-28T06:15:16Z

Hey. You've reached Hellboy. I can't answer the phone right now, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you, kay?

Inheritors Of Flame

2006-06-26T05:28:08Z

Hellboy was not sure how to handle Zuko asking to be taken out of the building-- to look for things, he said. Scavenging. He'd done rosters, no body seemed to need him for too much direction now that peace was mostly attained (cept for that sticky, persistent problem of 'Harth') and he was apparently-- well, getting antsy. Not that Hellboy couldn't understand that, but--

-- this was the boss. Not that his boss-- his father -- hadn't done field work, even up until his old age, but--

In the end, he caved.

Zuko proved decent company. Neither talked much, but when they did they didn't waste words. Zuko could be tempermental, but at the moment, was fairly good natured.

So they scavenged. Clothing, this time (Mel needed pants) and other things. And they came upon a place they'd never seen before.

"Dancing Crane," Hellboy translates the name from Chinese, and Zuko seems intrigued; cranes are a sign of fidelity; the mating dance is a ritual for lovers. He's looking for things for Mel, so they both take this as a good sign.

They are not disappointed. Inside there are things. Part decor, part sales good. Part-- well, everything. There is a section for jewelry from around the world, another for clothing made naturally -- in styles native to Asia, the Middle East, Africa, done in traditional fabrics. There are mukkluks! and Zuko grabs pairs for Katara and Sokka, picking the furries, blued woven things and throwing them in with what they'll bring back.

And then they find the cart.

It is a little rickety now -- after sitting here holding up dried, decorative bamboo -- but that doesn't matter. They empty it and start to fill it up; Hellboy can pull it, he's sure.

Clothing, soap, books-- Zuko grabs a jade hook for Sokka, a blue topaz pendant for Katara, and he choses a multi-colored opal drop for Melaka. Aang, he finds a red dragon kite. "I used to have one of these," he says to Hellboy, and the big man just laughs at him. There are batons, wrapped and colorful, for Ty Lee, and for Azula, Zuko goes pratical-- clothing to replace hers, in reds and blacks of their homeland, and pins to hold up her hair -- so she'll remove the bloody crown, Hellboy guesses.

Hellboy considers, and finds clothing for Angua. Things that will suit her color; blouses in blues and greens, cool colors to her warm skin. He is not so much the jewelry giving type.

They grab soap, incense, books of all sorts and they bring those back too. CDs are ignored -- Zuko doesn't understand them and Hellboy isn't interested. Pieces of art are examined. "We'll bring things back," he says, "And add this to the map."

And they head home--- a big red man, and a boy, and a cart.

crownedwithfire @ 2006-03-24T02:23:00

2006-03-24T09:23:27Z

What OTHER Superhero is Hellboy related to..?

You scored as Batman, the Dark Knight. As the Dark Knight of Gotham, Batman is a vigilante who deals out his own brand of justice to the criminals and corrupt of the city. He follows his own code and is often misunderstood. He has few friends or allies, but finds comfort in his cause.

</td>

Batman, the Dark Knight

71%

Maximus

67%

Indiana Jones

63%

William Wallace

50%

Lara Croft

50%

The Amazing Spider-Man

46%

Neo, the "One"

46%

The Terminator

38%

El Zorro

33%

James Bond, Agent 007

33%

Captain Jack Sparrow

25%

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

Hellboy history, Part 2.

2006-03-03T09:06:47Z

Bruttenholm's Tapes: November 18th, 1979

I fear for my son like I have never feared before. He has come to me, today, and made mention of work he did a few months ago -- at an Archaeological dig in Zimbabwe; Anastasia Bakersfield was our client; her dig had run afoul of local spirits.

But they had not yet cut contact, it seems. They have been exchanging letters and phone calls for at least three months, and apparently they met here in Fairfield just two weeks ago; she stayed here three days, and apparently, he spent the entirety of her stay with her.

And he has come to me and confessed he believes he is in love with her, and that his feelings are completely reciprocated. He's taken her as his lover, and intends to join her, on a leave of absence, for her digs.

I worry for him.

* * *

Bruttenholm's Tapes: April 4th, 1981

If I ever see Anastasia Bakersfield, it will be too soon! My son has returned to the bureau the way a kicked dog returns to his master, needing reassurance and kindness. He was unwilling to speak of their relationship, or time together, until last night I found him having emptied out a great deal of my Chivas Regale. I have never seen him so utterly... lost!

He confessed then, that he broke it off with Anastasia, and that she was upset with him. That he had tired of the looks, the snide remarks -- that they could not go anywhere... her peer group constantly blocked her own and that as their relationship progressed, her social acceptability in the world had steadily declined. She loved him, he said, but she could not defend him from man's constant disapproval... and so their relationship began to crumble.

Why she could not stand up for my son, I do not understand. Perhaps she was weak in the face of such accusations. Perhaps she secretly began to wonder if they were not well-founded. But if she could not be sure that she could be strong in the face of adversity, then why, why did she take my son out into the world so, and bare him to the cruelty of the world in so intimate a fashion?

Perhaps the fault lies with me. I did not prepare him for these things; I, married to my work rather then a woman, did not provide an example or what love could -- should -- be. But now, I only know that he feels less human then he ever has in his life... to the point that he actually /said it to me/! His own father! His father, who fought and bled and cried for him! Who stood before God and Man and said, "This is my son!" Not even when he was young, and first feeling out what it was like to be human, and sanding the stumps of his horns so they would not grow back... Even then, he never said to me, "I do not feel like a man, anymore. I don't even feel human."

Even if she did not break his heart intentionally, surely, his pain will break mine.

* * *

Active Duty: 1981-1994

Hellboy returns his to exemplary service as an agent for these years; rather then nurse his broken heart, he throws himself back into his work full force for the next thirteen years, working hard and forgetting about his attempt at a normal life and relationship. Such things are not for him, he decides, and such things hurt when they fail, more so then missions that go wrong. His body can heal easily. His heart? Not so much.

He continues to pursue the corpse of the vampire Ilona Kakosy, who he had originally began pursuing in 1975; however, when he finds here, he must deal with strange visions and experiences that he cannot explain. He keeps these to himself, troubled, but manages to slay her in 1982. She's hardly the first vampire to fall to his stake, and won't be the last. He continues on his work, and breaks in a new agent in 1984.

Kate Corrigan has come on as consultant, however, she shows great interest in actual investigation. However, she has little field training. Hellboy and she become close; Bruttenholm watches and worries -- the break up with Anastasia and Hellboy's non-human feelings, however, seem to keep him from being anything but good friends with Kate, and Bruttenholm does not interfere. That same year, Hellboy gains a presidential commission, and gains national recognition for his service.

It doesn't seem to matter, though, as another of Anastasia's digs has happened upon trouble in 1986-- Hellboy goes solo, and comes back still at peace with his decision, despite Anastasia's desire to have him back in her life, despite the social difficulty. He refuses, however, and wraps himself back up in the cocoon of his work.

Trevor returned to active work -- finding that with his nest empty and his company well in hand, he desired to return to a more active, field oriented life style. He places the agency in the hands of it's field directior, Prof. Manning -- a slightly less ethical and definitely less compassionate man -- and heads out into the world with Hellboy, Abe Sapien, and Liz Sherman, along with other agents, and enjoys his work, culminating in what would be his last mission with the Cavendish family in 1993.

In 1994, he would be dead, and Hellboy would loose the central pillar of support. Everything would change, over the next ten years, as everything Hellboy thought he knew, understood, or was begins to get stripped away, layer by layer, like the skin of an onion, till he was stripped bare at it's center, wondering when things had changed so much.

* * *

Hellboy's Tapes: December 23rd, 1994

This is very odd; to be continuing my father's record of my life. He began these years ago, to record my discovery and my life since, and I've discovered them since his death at the hands of the Cavendish frogmen, apparently at this 'Rasputin's' behest. I'm not sure what to think of these -- really, it's hard to say, 'Oh, thanks for letting the Osiris Club test me for their own purposes', but... What's done is done, and I try not to dwell in the past.

And I hope the past goes away, too. I really hope Rasputin stays dead. He's one those types, you just get the sinking feeling is never, ever going to go away. He's a damned man, that thing -- but... Eh. Abe put a harpoon through him, and I beat the ever lovin' crap out of what was left of him. Liz fared the worse, though -- she was very ill for sometime after that. She left again -- this is Exit #13 for her. I know she'll come back.

But life went on; my father's death was avenged, and while I... found out some strange things, I don't really know what to make of them. This Rasputin summoned me, he says -- brought me to be the key to the Nazi Ragna Rok... I was to be his key, his seed of destruction, and wake these Ogdru Jahad -- seven elder chaos gods in some prison somewhere.

He called me Anung un Rama. I'm not sure why, but that name -- hearing it... was like... it was wrong and right all at the same time. Saying it into this tape makes me... It honestly makes me kinda sick. I don't care to think of that as my 'true' name. I'll stay Hellboy, thanks. He tried to tell me that it was who I was, what I was going to be, that if I destroyed him... none of my mysteries would ever be solved.

So much for that. He's dead, I'm not. Case closed, as far as I'm concerned.

It's been relatively quiet since then; I'm not sure how I feel about how Manning's been running the show here, especially since Father's death, but everything's all right. I'm worried about seeing Aickman at Father's funeral, though -- him showing up is NEVER a good sign. Yeah, you could say I'm a little peeved about him using me as wolf-bait for King Vold... Just a little.

What else have I done, this year? I went back to the Church in East Bromwich, in the summer. I needed some time away, after that deal with Rasputin, and found work didn't cut it. I went there -- and made the mistake of sleeping there. Visions of strange things -- the nun and the priest that Lady Eden-Jones had seen just before my arrival. Seems I ... may sort of be their half-sibling if what I saw, with that devil -- THE Devil? I'm not sure -- and the witch was correct.

Not sure if I really want to contemplate that.

Anyway, I really need to go make myself presentable. Made the cover of TIME for my fiftieth birthday and now there's a big event.

Goddamn, that makes me feel old. But I guess I'm in pretty damn good shape for my age.

* * *

Hellboy's Tapes: October 19th, 1996

Have I mentioned this has been the worst year ever?

If it wasn't one thing, it was another. The Giurescu case -- it nearly killed Liz, Sidney, and myself, and did kill Bud Waller, who's been with the agency nearly twenty years. I've had to mourn some good men in my time, and Bud was one of the best. I feel really bad for poor Roger -- bad again for giving him such a lame name -- but ... He wasn't a bad guy. Still, the agency says they're gonna work on him -- I just hope 'work on him' doesn't mean they're gonna cut him up into pieces. Cause if it does, there's gonna be some answerin' to my big right hand.

I wonder; Abe was really upset over Liz. At times I've really wondered about those two, but... it doesn't warrant me prying. Abe's a big man; I'm sure he'll do what he needs to, if he feel he should. Liz, though...

I don't know.

I still dream of the Lamia, Giurescu's vampire mother... goddess... thing. Hecate, I suppose. The one who rebirthed him, time and time again, with the power of the moon.. She said we'd be together when we'd -- I'd -- destroyed everything. I told her then, that I wouldn't be doing anything of the sort... but she very nearly killed me for it. Were it not for the Daoine Sidhe speaking that name -- that name that Rasputin called me... I think I would be dead.

Funny, they're awful helpful, despite the fact that I kept them from stealing babies years ago.

But I don't want to think about that, either. I'm not sure what all of this means. I ... I suppose there must've been some purpose behind my appearance -- but this isn't what I've been hoping. Does this make me a man, or a ...

... I'm not gonna finish that train of thought. I ... I thought I'd buried that, years ago. I'm Hellboy Bruttenholm, and that's all that matters.

Though, right now, I really wish my Father were here. I'd know he'd have something to say, some information, perhaps, that I was missing. But he's not. Goddamn it.

* * *

Hellboy's Tapes: September 6th, 1999

The last few years were blissfully quiet, on all fronts. It's was really nice that way; Kate's broken in beautifully as field director the last few years, and I really think my Father'd be pleased with her. I really enjoy working with her; she isn't full of shit like some of the people in the bureau.

But, this year Abe and I had to go back over a case from '69; it was weird to go back over a case with Abe that my Father and I had trouble with; that damn box with the demon -- miserable thing, that. It slipped through our fingers that year -- but it figures it was sitting under our noses all the time. This case went just as badly; Abe was shot by a monkey, I was nearly beaten to death. Seems that Saint Drustan doesn't really care much for me.

Seems that Hell, on the other hand, is waiting for me to get my ass back there. Met Astaroth, Duke of Hell. Said he was keeping my crown for me, waiting in the dark.

I said he could have it, I wasn't interested.

Strangely, I told Kate the whole thing. In fact--I've told her everything, the last few years. I haven't kept anything from her, really, and I find it good to be able to trust her. She makes me feel ...comfortable, I guess. Very comfortable. I just don't want to get too comfortable. Still, she's never judged me, and I won't lie to her. We're too close for that -- I think, if I tried to pull one over on her, she'd know off the bat. After all, if Liz could spot I was hiding something when we went to Romania on the Giurescu case, Kate really would know if I was lying; it's weird to have her know me better then Liz does. But Liz can also read Abe like a book, so I'm bettin' that's why...

Abe also did something... well, that I can't say I'm not proud of. We've now welcomed Roger back to the land of the living -- Roger and Liz have settled their difficulties, and he's been taken in as an agent. He's adjusting fast to the modern world; I wonder if it's not something he was... built for. But he's a homunculus; it's anybody's guess. I'm going to be glad to work with Roger, though; he was willing to put his life on the line to fix what he'd done wrong. Got to respect that in a man.

* * *

Letter to Abraham Sapien, dated August 21st, 2001

Abe;

Listen, I want to say up front I'm sorry. Sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, sorry for ditching you to take the brunt of the Bureau's 'need'. But I can't do this anymore; at least, not from within the Bureau. I've got to get out, get my equilibrium back. It's getting damned hard to do anything within the boundaries they've set for me; I've come to realize this isn't my father's agency anymore.

But I'm not my father's son, either, am I? The church in Bromwich proved that. So did that alien in Von Klempt's castle. This alien, he came to me. Said his people had sent him and watch me, that he was supposed to kill me, back in '44... and had thousands of chances, over the last fifty-seven years. But he chose to die, rather then destroy me. Said he'd seen lilies bloom in my blood, and that was proof enough for him.

Lilies. Bloom in my blood.

I remember the Osiris club case. The saint's blood fell from the battle of the dragon, and God marked each dripping stain with blossoms of lies, symbol of his purity and devotion to Heaven.

Lilies! Lilies, Abe! Lilies bloomed in my blood and I'm Hellboy! Emphasis on Hell!

Abe, what the hell is going on? They put in bomb in Roger. My blood is fertilizer. There are things you don't know about. Things that I left out of reports, major omissions that would have Manning pissing himself if he knew. But if I can't figure out what I am, and their years of science and prodding can't, why the hell should I tell him what I've learned through blood, sweat and tears?

Will he put a bomb in me, then?

Should he?

This is getting really morbid -- I'm sorry for that, too. But I'm headed for Africa; there's places in Egypt I'd like to see again, and I think I'll head south from there. I'm not sure. But I'd like to stick my head in the sand for a while, and Africa's got plenty of it. Maybe I'll trek the Sahara. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll see if Ana will let me take up that offer of cryin' on her shoulder anytime I need it.

But I won't be back, Abe. At least I'm not sure if I'll come back. I'm not sure if I've got anything to come back too.

I'll make sure to keep in touch -- if you need me, I'll try to come for you.

Be well, my friend, and watch over Kate for me.

~H.B.

* * *

Hellboy's History: Part 1

2006-03-03T09:04:43Z

Walpurgis Night; April 30th, sometime in the early 1600's.

Mary Ashby, named for the mother of Jesus, sped through the woods with two other girls; Adele Adcock and Bethany Snarestone. The three were sworn, that night, to meet with Him again, to know his pleasures and promises, and spite the name Valborg, for whom the night was named. No nun's ill-given name would keep the night from holding to it's true meaning -- to the rites of fertility and carnality, they would see to that much.

He waited for them, sleek and dark and handsome, kissed by golden firelight. "My loves, my loves!" He cried, when they approached. "Come, let us dance!"

Their clothes were rent, their hair mussed, and the three girls joined their lord and lover, the Devil himself, in dances older then time and forbidden to the unwed. Each lay with Him, and then each other, till all stretched upon the grass, the fires dying to embers, and whispered of their accomplishments: They'd poisoned cattle, slain children, turned the eyes of wedded men from their wives.

They reveled in their wickedness, and He kissed the sin from their lips and laughed to hear it.

Come morning, they stumbled back to the village, weeping and crying, claiming that the faeries had stolen them in the dark. The Sidhe scoffed from their hills -- they had no use for trollops, but mortal babes, aye, they stole them. But those girls were too old and rather useless. But they took the blame for the girl's state, night after night...

... until they fled in three directions, running from the witch hunters.

* * *

Mary Croft found God, late in life. Having given up her wild ways and forgetting her promise, she bore two beautiful children to a devout, honorable man in East Bromwich. Her children, divinely guided, both found service to the mother church; her son a priest, her daughter a nun. Only once they were sworn to the service of God did she confess, then, her sins on her death bed, and asked her children to bind her body in a chained casket -- in three days, her lord's hold would break on her, and if God wanted her, she could go to to the Kingdom of God, penitent for her sins.

She never made it. Oh, her lord! He came for her in His true shape, into the Church that her son called his, and slaughtered her children, reminding her of her promises and duties -- she had struck her name from the Book of Life, she had engaged in revelries carnal and base, she had cast spells, taken the forms of animals, and done sins against man and God, she had laid with Him before her husband had ever known her, and he had planted damned seed in her womb. God did not want her, but He did. He wanted her, as beautiful and wicked as she once had been -- as she had been when she hung around his neck or writhed beneath His body. Tempted by this vision, she submitted...

... and he speared her wretched, aging corpse with one of his cruel, iron hooks, hung her from his horse and rode to Hell, taking Mary Ashby with him, damned with the knowledge that she'd given Him a son of his damned essence and her mortal spirit; not the wretched, flesh-born mortals He'd just scoured from the earth, but HIS son, of HIS flesh... His favorite, best son. He simply awaited birth, in Hell and on Earth, that son, Anung Un Rama, who would be the key to the world's destruction in fire.

* * *

December 23rd, 1944

Germany was desperate for miracles. Grigori Rasputin specialized in them. His own life -- having been poison, shot, stabbed, beaten, castrated, and then dumped into a freezing, racing river -- was a miracle, wrought in bargains of the spirit and bone, Baba Yaga, Mother of Russia, favoring one of her country's sons with a fragment of her power. He promised them a Key -- a Key to the World's fate; if Germany lost the war, this would enable them to make sure that no one else would have this precious prize, either.

His motives were his own; the nazi's were nothing but pawns; within them, he found disciples who recognized his power, and to them, he granted the power to sleep... should his plans not come to fruition in this moment, he would need them in the future.

He knew very well Anung Un Rama would not appear where the ritual would be performed; but all the same, he opened the gate -- and disappointed his employers. It was time, then, he said, to move...

... unaware that someone was already there, wrapping the confused little boy in a military issue wool blanket, mindless that the child's first memory would be scratch of wool against skin that had never felt the cool night air before.

Trevor Bruttenholm had come to England years before, but now, something was different. There was something coming, and they needed to be prepared. He was a young investigator, one of a new breed -- who made the supernatural their business. He was something of an oddity in America; while the spirituality craze of the Victorian Era hadn't quite faded, it had not really been embraced by the majority of North America. Still, in his field, he was well respected as a hunter of strange things, one who faced mystery with eagerness rather then fear. He had been investigating a haunting in England when the call came; he had to serve his country, as one of their best paranormal investigators.

He was not alone. He came with a small detachment of soldiers; Prof. Malcolm Frost, a specialist in Trevor's own field, Lady Cynthia Eden-Jones, England's top medium, Sgt. George Whitman, and the Torch of Liberty were all part of his team investigating the Church of East Bromwich. The Lady Eden-Jones had alerted the US forces, then caught up in the middle of War, and called them to this place due to the forces she believes are about to converge on the spot -- and they waited, and they investigated; she was certain that there was something related to the war to occur here, and thus, the army came and waited.

But... there was nothing, though -- they could bring up nothing of this place -- at least, at first. Then! A moment of spiritual activity -- a sighting of a priest and nun, caught in time, bound to the site of their death -- and then there was nothing, again, in silence. Disappointment reigned.

And then there was fire.

The soldiers almost opened fire, but calmer heads ruled, as they all took their positions in surrounding the small thing, red, horned and embraced by flame; they were ready to fire at a word.

But in the chaos, Trevor spoke plainly and truthfully. "It's... a little boy. A ...hell boy."

And thus, Anung un Rama had his first name swept from him and was given another.

* * *

Early, Undocumented Years

Despite Bruttenholm's protests, Hellboy was packed up and taken out of country in the middle of the night. Lady Eden-Jones said nothing, merely allowed it with complicit silence, and Prof. Frost was simply afraid of what the boy might -be-.

He was taken to a base near Roswell, New Mexico. It would become the boy's home for the first few years of his life. While the war ended 'publicly' in 1945, it would continue in secret, with powers unknown, by the surviving regime until 1958; however, Hellboy wouldn't join the fight until 1956, missing most of the furious action and behind the scene struggles growing up in relative peace, unknowing of what was circulating about him -- or even that one of the very people who had found him had declared him unsafe.

The first year of his life was miserable. Experimentation ran rampant, while a legal battle was waged; in 1945, Malcolm Frost would begin to pioneer the efforts to have Hellboy -- innocent and childlike, with a growing love of Baby Ruth and hot noodles -- to be put to death. The child was growing quickly -- adulthood was coming fast, and Frost was convinced that he was going to do something terrible. However, Hellboy had his allies -- and unknown to him, they were many and powerful.

Bruttenholm was there, for all of it. Hellboy -- the name stuck, first as a joking designation, and then as an actual /name/, despite all attempts to give him something more reasonable as he grew -- was under General Ricker's care; complaints of inhumane treatment from Bruttenholm got Ricker to act, making sure that when he wasn't with a scientist trying to drill his arm, or see his resistance to heat, cold, and a variety of other things, that Hellboy was well fed, watching TV like a normal child, and becoming a pint-sized addict to Gene Audry films. Hellboy was extraordinarily patient; they gauged his age at somewhere in the toddler stage; he was not a baby, but a child of some sort, but he was not quite the average child, and bore the pain and frustration of being a guinea pig with occasionally sulky aplomb that would degrade into disdain of scientists and researchers over the years.

But as far as Bruttenholm, the boy was just a child, not a freak. Certainly, he was red, and with that strange arm -- fully grown, unlike the rest of him, they gauged what he would be, a veritable giant of a man, if the arm was any indication, like one would gather how big a dog would get by the size of a puppy's paws -- but he was a child all the same. Ricker was inclined to agree. Not so many others were, however, and there was a vocal contingent ready for lobbying, prepping their case against the boy they could not explain. But Bruttenholm was privy to things that others were not; the boy recognized him as the first human being who'd been kind, the man who'd scooped him up in a blanket and comforted him after his rough 'birth' from the flames. In short, Bruttenholm had been the mother duck Hellboy had impressed upon.

In 1946, Bruttenholm managed to get the experiments on the baby Hellboy put on hold, and entrusted his care to General Ricker directly. Trevor Bruttenholm had a knack; he chose his friends and colleagues well, with the exception of Prof Frost; most of those who encountered the strange, red child came to love him. General Ricker watched over the boy while he grew on his base, and stepped in on the boy's behalf when men came clamoring with questions . "Hellboy was a child; a good natured child that is eager to learn," the General would say, cigar bit tight between his teeth. "He loves Mac, the base dog, and everyone else. He calls me 'uncle', when he doesn't think I can hear him, and he is better mannered and more loving then any of my nephews or grandsons. I would be proud enough were he my own flesh and blood." It was powerful statement, but it did not stop all detractors. Prof. Frost would not stop until his death or Hellboy's, whichever came first.

However, Bruttenholm had other ideas; in 1945, he had begun work toward founding the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, which was kept quiet but gained a hefty bit of government money and aid as it began to get off the ground, though it was not officially 'in operation' until 1946. With the agency backing him, Bruttenholm worked for the boy he'd come to love as his son; in 1952, Hellboy was officially granted humanity by a panel of authorities and lawmakers after years of battle, experiments, and contrary to the scientific community demanding they have the boy for dissection and further curiosity. He had the right number of limbs; one was a bit odd, but he apparently walked, talked, breathed, wept, and did anything else a two year old would do -- he just did it a lot faster. He was still not free, really, but at least he now had basic human rights, and Frost's initiative to have him slain was defeated thoroughly. However, he would still struggle with his fear of Hellboy, right to his deathbed.

A year later, Trevor made a move to make him a family -- to further protect Hellboy's interests -- and officially adopted him. Hellboy Bruttenholm gained a birth certificate with his new name -- he staunchly refused to change from anything but 'Hellboy', since Trevor had called him that first -- but the years he'd spent with Trevor had already given him a family.

However, Trevor was often an absentee father; when he wasn't investigating East Bromwich -- which didn't stop until 1953, with no further evidence of supernatural happenings there, past or present -- he was working to gather agents, psychics, priests, and experts of all stripes into the Bureau. Hellboy aged rapidly, and unnaturally so -- by the age of twelve he was physically adult -- though mentally was entirely a different story. Keeping his young mind occupied was difficult enough -- Bureau professors wanted a piece of the boy, which with Hellboy's permission, they allowed. Experiments were performed -- though when Trevor was away, things... less ethical were done to the boy. When General Ricker got word, many stopped -- but nothing could be kept down for long. Hellboy was an oddity, and needed to be studied, and Hellboy sullenly allowed it, his disdain never quite becoming hatred.

And he would be someone else's project, for most of his early life; till eventually he became an active agent and left the bureau for extended periods of time, seeking safety in his new purpose.

* * *

From Trevor Bruttenholm's Hellboy Tapes, May 12th, 1952

He was not yet twelve years old -- at least, by my reckoning -- but he was a man. So tall, so broad! Bigger then his small father now, with scruffy, wiry black hair on his chin and long hair left to hang at his neck. Still, I wanted to do things with the boy, my Hellboy; it was hard, though, to find things we could do together, like father and son. He needed a father -- all boys do. But, special arrangements were made to take him to an amusement park (though the freak show, with their stuffed snake women and their false unicorns, was avoided) for a day. He towered over me, had a terrible time fitting into doorways and ride seats, his tail curling tight about his leg to keep it out of the way. But I wanted to do the boy right, and I wanted him to be happy, to grow up as normal as he could, loving Baby Ruth and that new fangled music that the kids seemed to love these days.

He rode the rides, but the thrills weren't enough. They'd taken him up in jets; how could a Ferris wheel compare? But still, Hellboy seemed to enjoyed it. Maybe because it was something that the men on the base spoke of doing with their children; they always hushed near him, not wanting him to know was he was missing. It was a wonder he had the dog; Mac was a god send -- though his idea that the dog was a superior being to we humans did put a hitch in potty training the hellion! When we came back, it was like a farewell to his childhood -- what little he had been allowed under General Ricker's care.

We came back, and they gave him a gun.

I cannot truly fathom the gesture -- but I know the man, the Torch of Liberty, believed differently then I; Hellboy was able to crush most men with his bare hands, should he put his mind to it, but as far as the Torch was concerned, that was how a beast fought. A man used tools, techniques, methods clean and quick. A beast? He covered himself in gore and reveled in it. Hellboy was not a beast to him. This gladdened my heart, even as I feared for this new turn.

He was twelve years old, when the Torch of Liberty, one of the the US's finest men, gave him the Samaritan; named for a man who did kindness to strangers despite the lack of gratitude due to his place of birth. I had raised him Catholic; he knew the story of the Good Samaritan. I think it made it all the more special; knowing the story of the man who had been beaten and left for dead in the road -- a Pharisee passed by him, and touched him not. A Jew, too, left him for dead in the road. But the Samaritan -- to whom most contact was unclean, who were spat upon for not being 'truly Jews' -- took his broken, naked body and cared for him, mended him, and asked for nothing in return.

I wanted to weep, but I watched on with pride instead, as he handled the oversized gun, made for his large, strong hands, supernaturally gifted arms. They took him out to the range and got him to shoot with them...

... and I said good bye to my little boy and realized, my son was a man.

* * *

December 23rd, 1952

Present wrapping has been cleaned up -- Hellboy was currently fitting his new long coat on with a sort of relish only the young have. Specially made to accommodate his right arm and his tail, it had been hard to procure without spoiling his birthday surprise.

It was during the clean up the phone call came. I answered it; it was Malcolm Frost's son. He had... terrible news. Malcolm was dead.

The man who wanted to kill my son for the good of humanity was dead. He had passed away two nights previous, his life's work thwarted.

I said nothing to Hellboy then; why tell him, truly, at this celebration of his entry into this world and my life? He was enjoying himself; it was a rare thing -- Hellboy was a quiet, serious, almost somber child, though there was a turn of mischief to him. He got snacks from behind him with his tail while he occupied me with words, he occasionally broke things with his overlarge hand, and while he put up a brave, strong front...

...he ached to see other children, his own age, so small and delicate and still innocent. Other young boys did not shoot guns made for a man twice their age. Other twelve year olds were not six-foot-four and still gaining in height. When other boys were considering shaving, he was taking a sander to his brow and keeping the stumps of his horns flat and even... I blame the soldiers and their need for uniform blandness, to keep troops in line for this... mutilation. Still, he wants to fit in and it is painful to see in action. He's already gained a full beard atop that, if he does not shave! Other boys had mothers and fathers, who they could seem themselves in. My son looked down -- looked down! -- on me, and the only thing I could see of myself in his face... was the kindness in his eyes.

At least, I had engendered that. I was not a good father, I admit -- often away, leaving my son in the care of others, who influenced him, perhaps, even more then I. But I did love him, and wish the best for him.

* * *

Case Files, 1952-1973

Hellboy traveled round the world, working for his government and for his father both, wishing to make the people who had enabled him to live free proud of him and his work. When he wasn't dealing with vampire cats in Kyoto or talking mongooses, he encountered haunted chairs or frightening Nucklavee. Faeries, demons, vampires, ghosts -- he gained experience with them all, as well as charms against all of them. Mass killings in India, baby theft, and more occur. The cleansing of an iron-shoed Redcap in Ireland -- where Hellboy first picked up the habit of smoking --gained him the first of many contacts -- Father Mike Nolan; he was merely the beginning, however -- Hellboy's professional acumen and kind heart would earn him accolades and allies over the many years of his career, as well as attention from certain, highly placed groups, from the Osiris Club to the Vatican itself, neither of which could seem to decide what he was.

He answered the call of both, and was tested and examined by men of faith as well as science -- at least, the former were kinder about it. They could find no touch of the devil to him; he took sacrament, he could be- - and was -- baptized, and he bore the presence of the Church, the crucifix, and all else without suffering. He knew scripture and verse, and carried, at all times, a token of St. Jude, who he favored among the Saints; he had, he would say, been a lost cause himself, once.

The Vatican declared him free of sin, and the pope would speak of him as 'proof that the divine could touch even those born from darkest sin'. However, the Osiris Club would conduct their own tests, and while they would come back inconclusive, they too left Hellboy, watching his movements with intent -- should he prove to be a danger to mankind, they would act then.

Hellboy knew little of this; he simply worked for Bruttenholm with the devotion of a favored son. His father rarely accompanied him; at this time he was deeply involved in the maintenance of the archives, resources, and the move from the air base in New Mexico to the mansion and attached offices in Fairfield, CT.

It should be noted that Hellboy was not the first agent to use magic or charms against the enemy, though he was quite proficient in the use of charms of all sorts; in fact, during his career he gained access to the Catholic Church's highest reliquaries; bones of the saints, holy water blessed by the Pope, and weapons sanctified in the battle against evil were a part of his arsenal.

Scrupulously honest, he never lost or kept one. They always found their way back into the hands of their rightful owners at the end of an assignment. Charms found for purchase were another thin entirely -- Aggripa's charm against demonic beasts was a gift from Father Edward Kelly, who he befriended during this time, and other trinkets of varying power found their way to him. He became quite the collector, though he left powerful artifacts behind or gave them to those he knew could keep them safe or out of the hands of darkness.

He was, in short, an exemplary agent. However, a few cases stand out among the others...

* * *
Bruttenholm's Tapes: April 9th, 1952

My son is back from his 'lend' to my old school-fellow, Edmund Aickman; I am displeased to discover that Edmund was chasing gold and not doing proper investigation; normally, I would allow a man his foolishness, but not when they get my son beaten near to death by wild norsemen in wolfskin. However, I hear that for all this idioicy, he gained nothing but a wound within his palm; King Vold's gold apparently turns to burning stone, and it has created a hole in his palm.

I am unsure of what has happened to him beyond that, but it cannot be good. I hope he finds a way out of the hole he's dug for himself, though.

* * *

Bruttenholm's Tapes: June 23, 1954

I am most sorry, my son; you must forgive a man his fears -- the Osiris Club was a powerful group, and they wished insight into your true nature. My words -- the words of a loving father, blind to his son's failings -- were not enough. I allowed the test.

My son, they tricked you -- they released the dragon from it's prison, and set you on it, to see if your blood would cause bloom or burn to the holy battle site; they cared not of it's defeat. Though they deemed the test 'inconclusive', they did not bother us again. I cannot say how profound was the relief I felt. They would leave us alone.

* * *

Bruttenholm's Tapes: December 29th, 1964

My son has returned, and his report on the incident with the legendary 'Baba Yaga' has come my way.

He took out her eye.

I wonder at the possible ramifications for Russia; she is as linked to Russia as Yahweh is to Israel, as much their old goddess as a spirit or witch. But there have been no sightings of her 'sin counting' in the days since her possibly-fatal wounding.

Hellboy is recovering from his injuries well, but cannot shake the feeling that he has done something wrong. I wonder at his feelings; guilt, perhaps, at being unable to truly fell the witch? Or perhaps... something deeper? An intuition not psychic, but... perhaps similar to such powers. But he has never displayed any abilities related to special cognition, pre or post.

I will simply have to be watchful of him. Still, he plans to take on active service again, as soon as he is healed. I wonder, sometimes, at his eagerness to delve so deeply into out work; sometimes, when he does not realize I'm watching, he looks so...haunted. Is it their faces, my son?

Is it that they are not so far from yours?

* * *

It all began to change for Hellboy in 1974; the first of what would eventually become his 'family' for the next twenty five years began to surface; Liz Sherman, Abe Sapien, Sidney Leach, Bud Waller, and Roger the Homunculus would all make their way to the halls of the BPRD. It would be a time of change for Hellboy -- because he would lose one family to gain another...

... even as he needed them most.

* * *

Bruttenholm's Tapes: January 10th, 1974

Elizabeth Sherman has come to us from New Jersey; just a month ago, she was responsible for the deaths of thirty two people, including her parents and brother. Pyrokinetic ability violently manifested, and she was brought to our attention shortly after the cause of the fire was determined. She is emotionally withdrawn, and many of the agents fear her. She says she can 'burn you by talking', and is as much afraid of us as we are of her.

I took a personal interest in this case -- I have oft been accused of collecting freaks, starting with Hellboy, but that is not the case. I want to help these people, innocent and frightened, unaware of their power and the damning inability to wield it. No one found Elizabeth Sherman in time.

Imagine my surprise, when I got to look in on this girl, and find my son sitting with her.

She was unafraid of him; he spoke gently to her, and unlike the very human men in the fire suits, he did not flinch or shy away. Of course, the Ohala case in O'ahu, Hawaii has already assured me that Hellboy can wade through molten rock and come out untouched (though we could not say the same about his clothing), but ... it was so strange to see him, just talking to this scared, miserable child and coax a smile from her. She was not afraid of him.

He sat with her for two hours -- she ate the sucker he gave her (I could see the ruins of her dinner that the spooked agent had brought; I demoted him the next day for his lack of backbone in the face of a needy child) and simply talked to him. She was tired and scared and... in the end, I watched my son be as gentle with her as he might be with a newborn fawn.

I had thought I had felt the extent of fatherly pride; but at that moment, my heart swelled again. My son, my hellborn son, was no devil. He was hiding a halo behind his filed horns, I was certain.

* * *

Bruttenholm's Tapes: July 19th, 1979

Abe Sapien, along with Liz Sherman, has become a part of our strange family. He is now my son's favored confidant -- perhaps due to his unknown but completely inhuman origins -- and partner on assignment. They work well together; perhaps, in truth, Abe has replaced me as my son's right hand. I mourn this, just a little. But I am glad to see him so comfortable, and easing the transition for those in need.

However, they are on the outs today; Hellboy made some error and Abe paid the price. They both came back battered -- Abe more so then Hellboy -- and my son is most repentant. Abe is sullen, but I believe he'll forgive Hellboy in the end. He knows he did wrong, and owns up to his mistakes. He is not so proud. After all, he stopped smoking this year -- I believe, for Abe's sake. Our piscean friend's lungs are only just adjusting to air now; it would not do to make him adjust to second-hand smoke so soon.

I have noted that my son is very conscience of others; he is usually proper with his language, he rarely displays his temper -- though I know he is capable of carrying great anger, as I saw during the latter years of the War, and he is rarely openly disdainful, even to the scientists that I know he dislikes. I daresay I raised him right. Or maybe it is something else. Something deeper. I can hope that it's good upbringing, can't I, that I raised a polite, well-mannered son?

* * *

Liz Sherman became a ward of the agency, and eventually, an agent herself. She was the first. Abe Sapien -- named for the piece of paper marked April 14, 1865 (The date of Lincoln's assassination) attached to the tank his body was found in was discovered in the basement of St. Trinian hospital, and was brought to the agency in late 1978. Experimentation began in earnest, and on March 2nd, a last ditch electrical stimulation gained results in waking him, saving the fish man from dissection. However, Hellboy grew tired of their callous treatment of Abe shortly after. Eventually, in a rare display of temper, he told the men working on Abe exactly what he through of them, and hauled the fish man out of his tank, and took him away to feed him a ham sandwich and help socialize him. It was to begin a new trend in Hellboy; Liz and Abe's treatment had raised ire in him. He began to grow tired of how all of the freaks and stranger members of the agency were being treated, and began to work for change, making himself a protector of all new entries, whether their powers be small and simple as metal detection or as great and destructive as Liz Sherman's powerful pyrokinesis.

Strangely enough, it worked. Abe became a ward and then agent in short order. Hellboy's surrogate family grew through his efforts, and his upstanding morality -- though stifling to those who sought information at any cost -- won him many friends and the respect of most of his coworkers.

But it wasn't enough. There were things missing. Certainly, Hellboy had just found him a little sister/surrogate daughter and a fishy brother, but there were still aspects of his life that were empty... still, it was enough for now... at least, it was.

And then he met Anastasia Bakersfield. What would occur between them would change Hellboy's outlook on both himself and humanity for the rest of his life.

For the first time, Hellboy would question his right to be among humans.

Hellboy's learned skills.

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COMBAT TRAINING
Hellboy can use any weapon he can put in his hands to some degree of proficiency. He has a natural handle on most sharp and point or blunt and thwacky weaponry; maces, battle axes, spears, swords, the words; he prefers Western or European weaponry to anything else, however. He is also extensively trained in hand to hand combat, using a mish mash get the thing dead fast style. Between his natural strength and speed, atop his training, he is a lethal weapon in hand to hand combat; were not even including the sheer unstoppability of the Right Hand Of Doom (see powers.)
Hellboy’s gun training and modern weaponry, however, is not so extensive; unlike his skill with hand to hand weaponry, which seems nearly inborn, gun work took training, and he simply prefers weapons with fewer moving parts. This is not to say he's not decent with his gun, it's that he finds that they tend to be less reliable then, oh, a claymore sword. He's just funny that way.

WEAPONCRAFT AND INNOVATION
Hellboy can, given equipment and materials, design his own weaponry and rounds for them. He primarily uses this to create special rounds -- from the Creature Killers to other sorts of special rounds (radioactive, stunners, explosive shells, armor piercing...) He can, also, make knives and basic small weaponry from common objects in a desperate situations. Never know when you're gonna need to take a statue and club something to death with it.

EXPLOSIVE ORDINANCE
Hellboy is experienced with both modern and archaic ordinance. He can set you up the bomb, and take that vampire's castle sky high! He can, with the right equipment and household chemicals, make you a bomb if he really wants.

PARANORMAL
If it exists in lore, Hellboy likely knows it. Unicorns, faeries, ancient demons; he does his research and does it well. Hes made a career of sixty years out of monster slaying, and hes one of the best. He is a repository of random knowledge about the occult and the creatures that lurk in the shadows of it. It's just the matter of remembering just which hell beast or werewolf he's dealing with -- there are so many, after all. A little reading always helps jog his memory, but likely he knows the basic weaknesses of most common critters, and with some time to prepare, can handle more rare and unique things.
With the right training and preparation, Hellboy can conduct rituals from works of magic and books, if he has the right things on hand. He cannot do it without preparation, equipment, and study, though -- he's NOT a mage, and he cannot cast spells on the fly. He's just a very talented occultist.

FBI TRAINING
Investigation is not his forte, but Hellboy does know the basics. He also knows basic stealth and assassination techniques (though they are not his preferred methods) and other basic things, from combat parachuting, piloting a jet pack, to emergency first aid to how to tie up bad people real tight. Its a catch all skill for things that only a pseudo-government agent or other trained operative would likely know. After all, he's basically James Bond, paranormal style.

LINGUIST
If it's a dead, ancient, unspeakable, demonic, or otherwise weird language, likely Hellboy can read you sonnets in it, translate the bible or Shakespeare into it, or otherwise converse fluently (alas, he is not geek enough to do Klingon love poetry. Sorry.). That doesn't mean he doesn't know plenty of living languages, either; if it's spoken by natives in Europe, Hellboy can speak it, and same goes for the Middle East (cradle of civilization, after all) and most Asian languages. His African dialects are sketchy, and he doesn't know many Native American dialects. Still, he can fumble his way through most languages he needs too.

SURVIVAL
Doing a lot of investigation into the paranormal takes you into strange, distant places, and living in them is often difficult. Hellboy has been trained to survive almost anywhere; his supernatural constitution really helps out here, but still, finding food and water is a necessity to the big guy. However, you could drop him the Urals or the Sahara, and he'd probably still manage to make it back to civilization -- or whatever passed for it -- alive.

WELL EDUCATED
This is a catch-all skill to cover that Professor Broom covered... well, a lot of things. He was given an Ivy League education in the sciences; he is a passable medic, chemist, and he knows his physics. He's also well read, enjoys philosophy, and likes classical literature (though not as much as Abe does) and writes clearly and coherently. One can never say that Hellboy doesn't know his stuff. He does. Very much so.

SIXTY YEARS EXPERIENCE
This trait is to note that Hellboys been around a long time, and knows quite a bit of basic living, from driving to body building. Hes packed in a lot of living and a lot of trivia, from movies to music. This is a catch all skill to represent life experience, from boating to wood crafting, general house repair and basic mechanical know-how. He's not AMAZING at any of these skills, but he knows enough to get by in a pinch -- just don't expect him to be an expert in any general, 'normal' field; he just knows enough to get by.

BASS SINGER
Hellboy sang bass in the Roswell Base choir; he doesn't advertise the fact that he can croon, really -- it's not exactly a skill he needs in his line of work. But he can sing, and sing well. It's just that not a lot of things are meant for bass voices, really.

Hellboy's Gear

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THE SAMARITAN
The Samaritan can only hold four of it's oversized rounds, and it can be difficult to load with the Right Hand of Doom's big, clunky fingers -- he usually tries to load with the left, though it's not always possible. However, in no way can Hellboy FIRE the Samaritan -- or any other gun for that matter -- with his right hand. The fingers just don't fit.

SPECIAL ROUNDS
CREATURE KILLERS: Tipped with explosive shells that contain white oak, holy water, garlic, silver and cold iron shavings, the Creature Killers are made to take down anything. Most of those things will harm SOMETHING somehow; the protective nature of white oak impedes the ability to attack and it acts as a purifier for corruption, garlic's for vampires, silver's for werewolves and the ilk, iron's for faeries, and holy water is a catch-all for just about everything evil.

TRACKERS: These make things it's hit bleed bright, glow in the dark green. Good for those days you need to track something by evening, or across a dark forest.

HELLBOY'S COAT
The coat is blessed, stitched with a number of potent protection spells and charms and thus, when Hellboy has it on, all magical spells, curses, hexes, and powers are rendered to 25% effectiveness; low-level spells, minor hexes, and the like won't even effect him at all. This includes magical assault, anything created by magic (fire balls, ice showers, concussive blasts).
It should be noted that master-level magus (Rasputin, Constantine on a good sober day) can circumvent the wards and those with major demonic/magical pacts with higher beings can exert some effort and hit Hellboy as hard as they like. However, most minor and mid-level affects are completely or nearly completely deflected by the coins, pendants, scrolls, and other things sewn into the coat itself.

A RELIC FOR EVERY OCCASION
Hellboy never goes anywhere without a rosary, a few beads, a tooth from a saint, and a number of other things he has in pouches and pockets. God knows what hes going to meet on the road. Hes learned the spells and chants for each of them, too mostly of a protective nature. Rather then use them himself, he often hands them out to those who needs them, but occasionally finds use for them when he's on a solo mission and finds himself in over his head. However, he has to be choosy -- he can only wear any two relics along with his coat (with the exception of the rosary; it has no powers beyond his own faith being invested in it).
ANY relic marked with a * means that if the Crown of the Apocalypse is activated while Hellboy is wearing or using the relic means the relic will harm him in turn (this may or may not bring him back from Anung Un Rama; the rosary and St. Jude's Fingerbone will, but the prayerstone won't.)
His relics include:

Aggrippa's Charm Against Demons: A small, hammer-iron pendant on a leather thong, this token wards against any unnatural animal, from werewolves to boarmen; if they have an animal base or form, while in said form, Hellboy is able to double the amount of damage he does against them -- IE, a punch from him is the equivalent of 10 tons, rather then the usual five if he's exerting full strength. Activated with a short chant, and either worn around the neck or held in the fist. If dropped or released, it loses it's charge and cannot be reactivated till the next moonrise.

Ancient Stone Figure: Sumerian, 3800 BC; this small earth-mother figure vibrates when evil is near -- but it only works in warm weather, which renders it useless, pretty much.

Bottle Of Tears: The image of the Virgin Mary's tears, preserved in a silver bottle -- that supernaturally refills. More potent then any holy water, these tears will burn like the most potent organic acid when used against anything supernatural and evil.

Eye Of Artum Ra: A simple 'eye of ra' pendant that wards away snakes and reptiles from the bearer; they cannot come within ten feet of one who wears it.

Family Rosary: While this has no 'overt power' and requires no activation, it carries not only Hellboy's faith, but Bruttenholm's love for his son; it's touch (though searing) has been known to bring him back from the Crown of the Apocalyse and his true, demonic nature. It is also a very potent wards against undead and evil creatures vulnerable to such things.

Iron Horseshoe: A plain old iron horse shoe. Good for detecting faeries -- who abhor cold iron. Alas, it has no magical powers -- it's just big and heavy and burns fairies, and tends to disrupt their magic (though this is not guarunteed) ...and can occasionally be used to play games!

Rattlesnake Rattle: This is a warning charm; Hellboy only wears it when he's going into a place where he doesn't mind a little 'ahead warning'. When activated, this end of a rattler's tail will lay dormant until an unknown foe makes his presence known. A symbol of bravery, it refuses to allow someone to attack from behind or in secret, demanding fair combat of all involved. However, it's very delicate and very easily broken; Hellboy has it and some corn in a medicine pouch, which must be worn around the neck when used.

Solomon's Triangle: A ward against evil spirits, this amulet can also be used to bind and control them if presented with them; often used in concert when Hellboy's backing an exoricism, this charm, with a simple Hebrew chant and inovaction of God's name, can bind a spirit against harm or flight, and enable anyone dealing with it to have more time -- either for a proper exorcism or to turn the spirit to the user's will. Extremely powerful spirits, however, will LAUGH at this amulet and will often be able to break free with enough effort exerted

St. Christopher Medallion: Patron St. Of Travellers, Hellboy won't go anywhere on foot, by plane, train, automobile or moonpath. It allows him reasonable safe passage anytime he goes anywhere... reasonably; some things just can't be diverted.

St. Jude's Fingerbone: Given to Hellboy by the Pope himself after Hellboy noted that he considered St. Jude his personal patron, Hellboy is highly honored to possess it. This is a general protection from evil -- anything with intent to harm Hellboy, while he wears this amulet (a fingerbone in a small, gold-and-glass case, worn about the wrist) cannot come within fifteen feet of him. This does not mean they cannot do him harm, but they can't get up close to do it.

This has a side bonus; the more desperate the situation, the more powerful the protection the becomes. If Hellboy must protect others while wounded, or is doing something for someone else unselfishly, doing good work, or the like, this relic will increase his abilities and make him more likely to succeed (with the consent of other players) and aid him in getting OUT of the desperate situations. However, it cancels out all other protective amulets on Hellboy (including his coat).

However, due to it's rarity and power, Hellboy does not use this relic frivolously. It is not only valueable, it's a treasured posession and signified to him, his acceptance by the world at large.

Ward Against Werecreatures: A moonstone set between two crescent moons in silver, this is a delicately wrought pendant that protects the wearer from, you guessed it, werewolves and other skinchanging critters. When wearing this -- and only by moonlight, making it useless on the evening of the new moon -- a Werecreature cannot harm Hellboy so long as the moonstone is visible. If moonlight doesn't touch it, however, it falls dorment until it's revealed to moonlight -- which means it is completely useless in an indoor setting (unless you're fighting infront of a window at night) or by daylight.

Hellboy's Weaknesses.

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RIGHT HAND OF DOOM
Everybody wants to shake Hellboy's hand. Or cut it off. Or get him to use it to unlock the spatial, crystal prison of the Elder Gods. Depends on the day and the situation. Hellboy HATES THIS. But for some reason -- and reasons he's only beginning to understand -- he was cast in a large role when it comes to the fate of the world, doomed to be the key to the destruction of the entire earth. It's a real pity that Hellboy happens to like the earth, and most of the people in it. It makes it really hard to go along with his 'destiny', which everybody seems to want to dictate to him. While the hand's a powerful tool in combat, the disadvantages of having it on his arm FAR outweigh the benefits.
It should be noted that with this hand, he cannot use a number of human conveniences; he could be, for all purposes, be considered 'one handed' in situations like computer use (fingers too large and thick), door handles, and the like. Some if enduring and large enough he can use no problem, but he can't load his gun very well right handed, and while he's functionally ambidextrous, it's still his right hand. He favors it, but ... he can't use it as a human would use his. It's simply not useful in a number of day to day activities -- as well as other ones, such as the use of sensitive equipment or small and delicate equipment.

CROWN OF APOCALYPSE
Hellboy is an antichrist; rather then here to bring about salvation, he was created to bring destruction. He doesn't much enjoy this vaunted position, and attempts to avoid it at all costs. HOWEVER... there are certain spells and rituals that can be enacted that suppress his humanity and bring the Nature of the Destroyer to the Fore; he begins to breath smoke and flame, his eyes glow, his horns grow back into a full, mighty rack, and the fiery crown of the Apocalypse hovers between them.
Rituals of this nature requires the knowledge of his True Name -- a deeply guarded secret -- to do this, and it also makes Hellboy a big, thunky mindless slave with little will; he can be ordered to kill, main, destroy, or otherwise act against his peaceful, boy-scout nature. However, certain things -- love of his friends or the burn from a rosary -- have been known to wake him from this state, and he CAN shake off the effects. But it's a question of what he'll be used for before someone can get to him that scares most people -- including Hellboy himself. He's been taken over twice, and while he came to his senses both time, before too much was done, it is a deep seated fear that one day, someone won't be able to stop him.

ANUNG UN RAMA
With Hellboy's true name one can do many terrible things to him, include kill him magically, control him, bind him, or send him back to Hell, from where he was summoned and birthed. This is a lot you can do with four syllables and the right incarnation -- but thankfully, very few people know who Anung un Rama is, and what that name means. The very utterance from anyone else's lips makes Hellboy shake with fear -- it speaks to the part of him he denies most, fears most, and loathes most.

MASSIVE SIZE
Hellboy is seven feet tall and nearly four feet across at the shoulder. He also weighs four hundred pounds of pure, rock hard muscle -- not to mention the stone arm. To say he's a 'big guy' is a big of an understatement. So he doesn't fit into compact cars, most chairs don't accommodate his weight, and clothes have to be special made, especially where his right arm is concerned. Fitting into doorways can also be an interesting experience that involves a lot of ducking and occasionally going through ducked AND sideways, in more narrow openings. There are a lot of places he just cannot go, and it's hard for him to be stealthy with this much body to hide.
It should be noted that it takes a lot to fuel a man this big; he easily consumes three time the amount of food that a healthy human does, and needs that daily to survive, and will starve far faster then a normal human will. It's one of the easier ways to kill Hellboy.

BLATENTLY INHUMAN
Hellboy is seven feet tall, bright red, orange-eyed, and has cloven hooves and a tail. If anyone screams NOT HUMAN IN ANY WAY, it's him. He's impossible to forget for his size, color, and weird, inhuman 'add ons'. He's even weirder and more demonic looking when he lets his horns grow in. However, for all he's weird looking -- he just isn't SCARY ... unless he's about to beat you to a bloody pulp, anyway.

MENTALLY RECEPTIVE
Unlike many, Hellboy cannot shield or block telepathic intrusion very well. Maybe it's his multitude of insecurities, maybe it's his inhumanity, maybe it's just the way he is, but Hellboy is not only open to telepaths and unable to block them very effectively, he practically says 'c'mon in and make yourself at home'. This also makes him receptive to psychic phenomena, weird visions, ghost haunting, dream-beast, or anything else that uses the mind at it's landscape; this includes a susceptibility to telepathic influence. Though he has been seen to resist control, though he cannot block probes, dreams or anything else sent to him from outside sources very well, at least not without outside aid (charms, spells, the like).

WEIRDNESS MAGNET
If it's weird, freaky, or just plain STRANGE, it'll happen to Hellboy. He's the one who has gremlins appear in the staff copier, or has to deal with every friggin' supernatural femme creature hitting on him when he is Just Not Interested. If it isn't iron shoed redcaps, it's snake women. If it isn't his dog eating alien boogers and mutating, it's being touched by La Llorona as she chooses him as her long lost child. The weird, the unpleasant, the often strange usually occurs to him. Players and staff are encouraged to abuse him with anything they come up with, and the player gives up his right to whine about it.

BOYSCOUT
Hellboy has quite a few rules of conduct; he does not beat on innocent men or women (or holds back/goes defensive when he's forced into combat he knows is not just), kids stay out of the picture if he can help it, and he does his best not to freak the norms. He helps old women across the street, he does not backstab or betray, he keeps his word, does his job, does not lie directly to his friends or coworkers (lies by omission are entirely another thing... his 'Antichrist Superstar' secrets are never told of, and anything involving them are always omitted, even to his superiors). This doesn't mean he can't occasionally be surly or grumpy, and he's certainly insecure -- but right down to it, Hellboy was raised to Do The Right Thing. It's just how he is.

RIGHT HAND OF DOOM

Everybodywants to shake Hellboy's hand. Or cut it off. Or get him to use it to unlockthe spatial, crystal prison of the Elder Gods. Depends on the day and thesituation. Hellboy HATES THIS. But for some reason -- and reasons he's onlybeginning to understand -- he was cast in a large role when it comes to thefate of the world, doomed to be the key to the destruction of the entire earth.It's a real pity that Hellboy happens to like the earth, and most of the peoplein it. It makes it really hard to go along with his 'destiny', which everybodyseems to want to dictate to him. While the hand's a powerful tool in combat,the disadvantages of having it on his arm FAR outweigh the benefits.

It should benoted that with this hand, he cannot use a number of human conveniences; hecould be, for all purposes, be considered 'one handed' in situations likecomputer use (fingers too large and thick), door handles, and the like. Some ifenduring and large enough he can use no problem, but he can't load his gun verywell right handed, and while he's functionally ambidextrous, it's still hisright hand. He favors it, but ... he can't use it as a human would use his.It's simply not useful in a number of day to day activities -- as well as otherones, such as the use of sensitive equipment or small and delicate equipment.

CROWN OF APOCALYPSE

Hellboy is anantichrist; rather then here to bring about salvation, he was created to bringdestruction. He doesn't much enjoy this vaunted position, and attempts to avoidit at all costs. HOWEVER... there are certain spells and rituals that can beenacted that suppress his humanity and bring the Nature of the Destroyer to theFore; he begins to breath smoke and flame, his eyes glow, his horns grow backinto a full, mighty rack, and the fiery crown of the Apocalypse hovers betweenthem.

Rituals ofthis nature requires the knowledge of his True Name -- a deeply guarded secret-- to do this, and it also makes Hellboy a big, thunky mindless slave withlittle will; he can be ordered to kill, main, destroy, or otherwise act againsthis peaceful, boy-scout nature. However, certain things -- love of his friendsor the burn from a rosary -- have been known to wake him from this state, andhe CAN shake off the effects. But it's a question of what he'll be used forbefore someone can get to him that scares most people -- including Hellboyhimself. He's been taken over twice, and while he came to his senses both time,before too much was done, it is a deep seated fear that one day, someone won'tbe able to stop him.

ANUNG UN RAMA

WithHellboy's true name one can do many terrible things to him, include kill himmagically, control him, bind him, or send him back to Hell, from where he wassummoned and birthed. This is a lot you can do with four syllables and theright incarnation -- but thankfully, very few people know who Anung un Rama is,and what that name means. The very utterance from anyone else's lips makesHellboy shake with fear -- it speaks to the part of him he denies most, fearsmost, and loathes most.

MASSIVE SIZE

Hellboy isseven feet tall and nearly four feet across at the shoulder. He also weighsfour hundred pounds of pure, rock hard muscle -- not to mention the stone arm.To say he's a 'big guy' is a big of an understatement. So he doesn't fit intocompact cars, most chairs don't accommodate his weight, and clothes have to bespecial made, especially where his right arm is concerned. Fitting intodoorways can also be an interesting experience that involves a lot of duckingand occasionally going through ducked AND sideways, in more narrow openings.There are a lot of places he just cannot go, and it's hard for him to bestealthy with this much body to hide.

It should benoted that it takes a lot to fuel a man this big; he easily consumes three timethe amount of food that a healthy human does, and needs that daily to survive,and will starve far faster then a normal human will. It's one of the easierways to kill Hellboy.

BLATENTLY INHUMAN

Hellboy isseven feet tall, bright red, orange-eyed, and has cloven hooves and a tail. Ifanyone screams NOT HUMAN IN ANY WAY, it's him. He's impossible to forget forhis size, color, and weird, inhuman 'add ons'. He's even weirder and moredemonic looking when he lets his horns grow in. However, for all he's weirdlooking -- he just isn't SCARY ... unless he's about to beat you to a bloodypulp, anyway.

MENTALLY RECEPTIVE

Unlike many,Hellboy cannot shield or block telepathic intrusion very well. Maybe it's hismultitude of insecurities, maybe it's his inhumanity, maybe it's just the wayhe is, but Hellboy is not only open to telepaths and unable to block them veryeffectively, he practically says 'c'mon in and make yourself at home'. Thisalso makes him receptive to psychic phenomena, weird visions, ghost haunting,dream-beast, or anything else that uses the mind at it's landscape; thisincludes a susceptibility to telepathic influence. Though he has been seen toresist control, though he cannot block probes, dreams or anything else sent tohim from outside sources very well, at least not without outside aid (charms,spells, the like).

WEIRDNESS MAGNET

If it'sweird, freaky, or just plain STRANGE, it'll happen to Hellboy. He's the one whohas gremlins appear in the staff copier, or has to deal with every friggin'supernatural femme creature hitting on him when he is Just Not Interested. Ifit isn't iron shoed redcaps, it's snake women. If it isn't his dog eating alienboogers and mutating, it's being touched by La Llorona as she chooses him asher long lost child. The weird, the unpleasant, the often strange usuallyoccurs to him. Players and staff are encouraged to abuse him with anything theycome up with, and the player gives up his right to whine about it.

BOYSCOUT

Hellboy hasquite a few rules of conduct; he does not beat on innocent men or women (orholds back/goes defensive when he's forced into combat he knows is not just),kids stay out of the picture if he can help it, and he does his best not tofreak the norms. He helps old women across the street, he does not backstab orbetray, he keeps his word, does his job, does not lie directly to his friendsor coworkers (lies by omission are entirely another thing... his 'AntichristSuperstar' secrets are never told of, and anything involving them are alwaysomitted, even to his superiors). This doesn't mean he can't occasionally besurly or grumpy, and he's certainly insecure -- but right down to it, Hellboywas raised to Do The Right Thing. It's just how he is.

NAZI SCUM!

KITTY!

Hellboy lovescats. It could be because his mother was a witch and he has a naturalconnection to the one of the animals most associated with the Devil, or maybeit's just that he likes cats. But he'll go out of his way -- even in combat --to make sure no cats are injured -- and takes in strays daily. Strangely, catsseem to adore him like they do few others.... which is probably why he's ownedas many as thirty at a time. That's a lot of litter, man.

NOT HIS WORLD

The rules ofHellboy's world, supernatural or otherwise, don't always apply here. But he'sbeen following those rules for the last sixty years, so he tends to fall backon them. He may be in for a rude awakening when vampires don't mind garlic orher finds a werewolf that wears a lot of silver... It may take time to unlearncertain... things. And even then, they may still yet apply to other types ofcreatures NOT native to this world so... in short, he may win some, he may losesome.

Seeing the swastika in the red field is like waving a flag in front of a bull; Hellboy snaps almost immediately. Skinheads, Nazi, Nazi sympathizer. His first reaction it: BEAT YOU TILL YOU STOP MOVING. Or, until he's stopped or otherwise slows down. He can be rattled back to his senses, but it takes some solid blows to come out of the haze of blood and hate that the symbol or uniform inspires in him. It just makes him want to beat the offender to death.

KITTY!
Hellboy loves cats. It could be because his mother was a witch and he has a natural connection to the one of the animals most associated with the Devil, or maybe it's just that he likes cats. But he'll go out of his way -- even in combat -- to make sure no cats are injured -- and takes in strays daily. Strangely, cats seem to adore him like they do few others.... which is probably why he's owned as many as thirty at a time. That's a lot of litter, man.

NOT HIS WORLD
The rules of Hellboy's world, supernatural or otherwise, don't always apply here. But he's been following those rules for the last sixty years, so he tends to fall back on them. He may be in for a rude awakening when vampires don't mind garlic or her finds a werewolf that wears a lot of silver... It may take time to unlearn certain... things. And even then, they may still yet apply to other types of creatures NOT native to this world so... in short, he may win some, he may lose some.

Hellboy's Powers

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PHYSICALLY INVULNERABLE
It takes a lot for Hellboy to be hurt; bash him, slash him, he usually doesn't show a scratch. Blatantly supernatural critters do more damage to him then gunshots and general bashing about in a building will do to him, but it usually comes closer to annoying him then it does to killing him. Hell, he can be swallowed by an elder god and still come out alive if spattered with gore.
In short, one must be supernaturally strong to hurt Hellboy. Throw him off a cliff, he probably will be sore come morning, but he'll be up and walking around, wanting black coffee and pancakes. When it comes to 'normal' damage, it affects him like so: if he's hit with 3 tons of force, he'll be annoyed. If he's hit with 5 tons of force, he'll ache and stagger, needing some time (up to fiffteen minutes) to recover his equilibrium. If he's hit with ten tons of force, he'll be ready to lay down for a nice, week long nap. Breaking his skin doesn't even occur until three tons of force and a sharp pointy object are applied with equal measure, though that does NOT require a supernatural weapon.

INCREDIBLE ENDURANCE
Whether it's running up mountains without getting winded or enduring climate extremes without complaint, Hellboy's made to weather the end of the world -- so a little struggle and toil really doesn't put him out much. It takes a lot to get him winded, tired, over worked, or under the weather, and his constitution makes him nearly impervious to any illness that isn't supernatural in origin. His sheer toughness makes affects that weaken or drain health 50% less effective, and he is ten times more enduring then a normal human being.
It should be noted, however, that drugs and poisons DO have their affects, and things like eggs laid in his skin or parasitic critters trying to find a home in his body WOULD affect him. Drugs and poisons are, however, 50% effectiveness -- however, that includes beneficial drugs as well. Thankfully he rarely needs a pain killer, but lortab isn't much more potent to him an aspirin would be to the average joe.

ENHANCED HEALING
Hellboy heals faster and cleaner then normal; what would put a human down for a week would put him down for a day. A near fatal wound, however, is still a near fatal wound, even with Hellboy. He may be able to pull off amazing feats of endurance while injured, but still, he's going to need down time to recover ... especially if he pushes himself while injured. This is not regeneration -- wounded is still wounded -- he just doesn't take as long down on his back then, you know, most people. His wounds will not close in the middle of battle, or cease to hinder him over five minutes. They're still there; they just may not be in a day or two.

ENERGY RESISTANCE
You mean, you want to set the demon on hell from fire? ... ... ahahahahah. Sorry. He can bathe in Napalm or endure chemical burns and come out singing like he's in the shower. Temperature extremes do nothing to him -- he runs around shirtless in the upper Urals where it's below zero. He can also grab the Third Rail and use his body as a conductor, and walk away only smoking, even as he's passed the electricity to another victim -- though he'll be sore and electrical burns are a different story when it comes to the 'can be be burned' end of things. He's quite resilient, however, when it comes to electricity; the voltage needed to stop his heart would be astronomical (the 750v of DC that the third rail provides doesn't even tickle him; a lightening bolt at 25,000 might stun him for a few seconds, but it would not harm him; on the other hand, the power required to run Hamburg's lights or a secret Nazi outpost with major scientific breakthroughs inside would torture him). It's simply another part of the 'can he be killed at all' syndrome, with Hellboy.
Some energy attacks CAN hurt Hellboy -- but it varies depending on force of attack and type of energy. Arcane energy tends to affect Hellboy VERY well, while other types -- temperature extremes of ANY sort, electricity, radioactivity, do not really /bother/ Hellboy. Concussive energy attacks hurt depending on the level of tonnage behind him, (See: Physically Invulnerable.)

RIGHT HAND OF DOOM
Where the rest of Hellboy is nigh invulnerable, the Right Hand of Doom really IS indestructible, completely and utterly. Bang it, cut it, bash it, shoot it, strap a bomb to it. Nothing will dent it. Period. The key to awaking the Seven Gods of Chaos and freeing them from their Crystal Prison, the Right Hand of Doom is a solid 'stone' THING that feels no pain or much of anything else, having deadened sensory perception. If you took a sledgehammer too it, the sledge would break. If you dropped a tank on it, the concrete beneath would give before the arm would. Hellboy wouldn't ENJOY it, but neither would it honestly hurt him, so long as NOTHING other then the Hand was hit. He can hold a grenade in the massive palm, completely cup it, and have it go off, and not experience anything more then a minor vibration down his arm.
To add to this, it is immensely dangerous in physical combat, adding to Hellboys blows and easily able to rip or bash through armor, stone, concrete, or much of anything else and he seems pretty able to balance for its size and weight. A strike with the Right Hand of Doom should be considered at three extra tons of strength; rather then Hellboy's normal top five, he strikes with eight on the right.
It should be noted that while Hellboy's HAND ( and technically, part of the upper forearm, where the stone shaft continues) is fairly indestructible -- it can be removed from his body, where flesh meets stone just below the elbow. If it is removed after Hellboy's death, it will loose its invulnerability and go corrupt, no longer functioning as a key to the Crystal Prison of the Ogdru Jahad. If it is removed BEFORE Hellboy dies, or while he lives, it remains as indestructible as ever, and still works as the Key to the Prisons -- and can also be grafted onto a new living host... who gain the benefits of having the Key, as well as everything else.
When it comes to destroying the hand -- which would likely involve destroying Hellboy -- one would need potent Holy artifacts, or the Left Hand of Righteousness (which does exist -- and in far greater number among the protohuman Hyperboreans) to counter it. Certain ancient holy rites, though rare, would be able to remove or destroy it, banish it, or force it to be recreated with a new host... but it would likely kill Hellboy if it were still attached at the time... however, that would be a major undertaking and no small ritual.

SUPER STRENGTH
Hellboy is able to heft stone statues, demon frog-dogs, massive machines, and more; his lifting capacity is three tons of weight he can support this above his head and pitch it he can pull/push five tons, but that may cause him severe physical strain. Still, he can do it, which is the important part. All the same, he's not uberpowerful, but he's still pretty damn strong.

SIDE OF ANGELS
Despite being the Antichrist, Hellboy’s soul is not damned; he is, though demonic in form, possessing of a soul -- his mother was human, after all. He has firmly planted himself on the side of goodness and light, and fights for those he loves and the country he wants to protect. He cannot be bound by things that would affect or hold demons normally -- holy water rolls off him and general binding circles lack the power to affect him because despite his origins, he has become a man in spirit, even if his body is unearthly and inhuman. The only time this power can fail is if the right rituals have been enacted and Anung Un Rama, with the Crown of the Apocalypse, has been brought to the fore. (See WEAKNESSES: Anung Un Rama and Crown of the Apocalypse)

PREHENSILE TAIL
Hellboy's tail is only about four feet long, and isn't very thick, but it is prehensile. He can lift objects, manipulate them (though not very well) and hold things with them. Mind you, he's at 1/4th strength with his tail lifting or striking. It's just not as strong as the rest of him!

VIVID DREAMING
Going hand in hand with his Mental Receptiveness Weakness, occasionally -- though very rarely -- Hellboy can sleep in a place and receive information that he would not normally be able to garner. It is a very rare occurrence, and usually only imparts information that relates to him and what he's doing at the time, not visions of the future or past that do not somehow influence him directly, such as when he slept in the church in East Bromwich, where he had been summoned, and gained knowledge of who might be his true mother and father.

SPIRIT SIGHT
Hellboy has a 50/50 chance of being able to see anything invisible, ghostly, or otherwise invisible to human eyes; this is by no means a guaranteed sight -- some things hide themselves better then others -- but he can usually catch a glimpse of the unseen. Usually. Just not always. Note that is only applies to supernatural or otherwise inborn invisibility -- technologically based stealth suits, invisibility fields, and what have you decieve him just like anybody else.

LIMITED IMMORTALITY
As long as Hellboy lives as a human and struggles to be human, he can be killed, though it is difficult enough to injure him. HOWEVER... if wounded to the point of death, if his true name is spoken to him or spoken by him -- he will instantly revive, though he will not be in the best of conditions. He will, however, live -- his body reminded of its true immortality even as it wages war against his mortal soul. However, his immortal name is not known to many, so this fail safe is fairly useless unless the right people -- usually ones who want to use him for selfish gain -- want to keep him alive for some reason.

TRUE NAME
Hellboy's true name acts as a revitalizer; it jumpstarts his immortality and speeds his healing. Where his healing is quick to begin with, this speeds it beyond the realms of the upper-level natural into the supernatural; wounds instantly close, bones knit, and his body 'resets' itself to it's default mode; he does not, it should be noted, attain the Crown just with simple speaking of the name; it simply reverts him to 'healthy' and allows him to get up and take more punishment. Occasionally he does issue smoke from his mouth and grow his horns back, depending on how severely hurt he was when it was spoken. It should be noted, however, that the Name can only be spoken ONCE a scene and gain this healing affect.
However, very few people know it, and few are loathe to speak it -- Hellboy himself does not wish to say his own name, for fear of what it means to accept it, though he can be coaxed to say it if people know to ask him for it when he is on the edge of death; simply asking him, "What is your name?" and denying the response of 'Hellboy'. If his mortal name is denied consistently ("Who are you?" "Hellboy." "No, /who are you/?" "Hellboy." "That is not your name."), this can sometime get the deeply held answer of 'Anung Un Rama' from him, but sometimes... not. However, he trusts few with the information that could easily obliterate him as well as save his life. Strangely, he is more likely to answer 'Anung Un Rama' to those who he does not know -- those who are anchored in the affections of Hellboy are those who he is trying to hide his true nature from.