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onepassingnight2011-07-08 08:35 am
crownedwithfire.livejournal.com) wrote in onepassingnight2011-07-08 08:35 am
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Once upon a time in Mexico.
It is the 1960s in Mexico. It was a good time, once. He loved this place; the food, the people. This is a long time before Ciudad Juarez lets it's women die and gives drug cartels an opening to create the murder capitol of the world. It is, as they say, a more innocent time. Whether this is really true remains to be seen.
This little down looks like something out of a movies; buildings in the old style. Pueblo has not gone away. Sombreros and ponchos help beat the heat. Somewhere, a stray dog chases chickens through the streets that are not paved. There is a single truck to the entire village. To call it 'remote' is something of an understatement.
Hellboy likes remote. He has a some really good tequila, a table and an empty chair. He was more innocent, then. He didn't know half of what he did. It's hard to tell that he's a teenager - he looks the same as he always has. It's a sunny afternoon, giving way slowly to the warm evening breeze off the badlands.
He waits for company.
[Yeah, my first clumsy OPN post. Things are always deceptive in Hellboy's world, so you never know if a pleasant night in Mexico will turn into a night of fighting Mexican vampires, so... who knows what can happen.]
This little down looks like something out of a movies; buildings in the old style. Pueblo has not gone away. Sombreros and ponchos help beat the heat. Somewhere, a stray dog chases chickens through the streets that are not paved. There is a single truck to the entire village. To call it 'remote' is something of an understatement.
Hellboy likes remote. He has a some really good tequila, a table and an empty chair. He was more innocent, then. He didn't know half of what he did. It's hard to tell that he's a teenager - he looks the same as he always has. It's a sunny afternoon, giving way slowly to the warm evening breeze off the badlands.
He waits for company.
[Yeah, my first clumsy OPN post. Things are always deceptive in Hellboy's world, so you never know if a pleasant night in Mexico will turn into a night of fighting Mexican vampires, so... who knows what can happen.]
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"Are you okay? You look a little lost." Too worried, too white to be local. A passer-by, maybe. Hellboy rationalizes so much weird. It's a job skill.
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It's a peaceful village. No trouble.
Except at night.