[ the door's unlocked when he gets there, although that's not out of the ordinary for them β harley and hellboy usually don't throw their locks, in part because anyone who would dare to break in would end up having a badass gymnast criminal, a seven-foot-tall guy with horns and a big stone hand, and a territorial hyena to deal with after that.
what might look a little beyond the norm is the fact that harley's sitting quiet in the middle of the living room, bruce draped across the sofa with his head resting on her thigh and her hand absently ruffling his scruff. she's donned a black t-shirt that clearly belongs to hellboy, so big it slips off one pale shoulder, and her makeup is visibly smudged beneath her eyes, a few purpling bruises gripped into her arms.
she glances up and it's immediately forcing a smile to greet him, slipping up to stand as bruce's head perks up too. ]
Lookie who it is. [ the hyena at her side growls until she holds out a hand to still him, shushing softly. ] It's okay, Brucie. Sir Blondie over here's a friend.
[ He stills as the hyena growls, lifting a hand in placation. ]
Well, hello there. Aren't you handsome? Don't worry, I'm here to help.
[ He's reminded suddenly of the gnolls back home, the Wanted posters. Less than encouraging, as is the growling. But once Bruce decides to allow him closer, he'll approach.
He looks quite a bit different than the last time Harley would have seen him, in Haven. It's as if he's suddenly been thrown forward in time, new lines at the edges of his face, a well-trimmed beard covering his jaw...even a streak of silver running through his blond hair, tied back as usual. For once, his tired expression seems to suit. ]
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But he'd want to make sure you were seen to, first.
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he's really a great guy like that
that's how i know there's something really wrong with him
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[ And true to his word, soon after that last message he finds his way to the home Harley and Hellboy share.
The damage is clear even from the outside, and his heart sinks. Is this what he'd been so afraid of? ]
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what might look a little beyond the norm is the fact that harley's sitting quiet in the middle of the living room, bruce draped across the sofa with his head resting on her thigh and her hand absently ruffling his scruff. she's donned a black t-shirt that clearly belongs to hellboy, so big it slips off one pale shoulder, and her makeup is visibly smudged beneath her eyes, a few purpling bruises gripped into her arms.
she glances up and it's immediately forcing a smile to greet him, slipping up to stand as bruce's head perks up too. ]
Lookie who it is. [ the hyena at her side growls until she holds out a hand to still him, shushing softly. ] It's okay, Brucie. Sir Blondie over here's a friend.
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Well, hello there. Aren't you handsome? Don't worry, I'm here to help.
[ He's reminded suddenly of the gnolls back home, the Wanted posters. Less than encouraging, as is the growling. But once Bruce decides to allow him closer, he'll approach.
He looks quite a bit different than the last time Harley would have seen him, in Haven. It's as if he's suddenly been thrown forward in time, new lines at the edges of his face, a well-trimmed beard covering his jaw...even a streak of silver running through his blond hair, tied back as usual. For once, his tired expression seems to suit. ]