so a doctor and a demon walk in a bar...

[house_1_god_0]

Characters: Gregory House (house_1_god_0) & Hellboy (redrighthanded)
Setting/Location: In the caravan's medic room
Date & Time: Day 0, evening
Warnings: Sarcasm and biting wit ahoy!
Summary: House has smokes, Hellboy has drugs. And so House starts his small underground market.

Comments

[redrighthanded]

It'd only been a day, but already Storybook Village was way up there on Hellboy's list of Things Which Are Definately Better Than Being Chained To The Ocean Floor For Two Goddamn Years. That was probably going to change as soon as they encountered their first werewolf or treehag or whatever it was gonna be, but right now? Right now it was okay. And, hey, nothing had tried to eat him yet. Always a bonus.

He stomped his way up the staircase, taking a moment to look around the main hall -- pretty ritzy for a place on wheels -- before heading for the door the Junogam map had indicated would lead to the medical room. The sack holding the herbs was slung over one shoulder; his tail switched back and forth in the air behind his feet, as if counting his thudding steps.

Sure enough, there was a guy waiting for him. Hellboy stopped in the doorway and tugged the sack off his shoulder, his oversized stone fingers holding it with a deftness that belied their strength. He eyed the loot arranged on the cots.

"Nice hat."

[house_1_god_0]

It was one thing to read about it. It was another to see it in person.

House pushed aside all the thought along the lines of oh god what and instead sat up and half-stood to grab his cane. With it in hand, he used it to stand up with more ease, making a face at the soreness in his leg as he did so. He wanted to pop another pill, but it wasn't time yet. He'd just have to tough it out for a while.

"Thanks, man. It's the star of my collection of crap. If I try this at every town, eventually I'll turn into a dealer of the stuff that everybody wants but no one can seem to find."

House took the cigars out of the pocket of his blazer, holding them out in his hand. "I don't know if they're any good, since I don't smoke them. Hope so."

[redrighthanded]

Hellboy took the cigars and held out the sack, jostling it a little so House could see the shape of the stuff inside. There was a vague rustling sound of leaves and branches.

"Dunno how much you wanted so I got some of each. And I found some white caps and something that kinda looks like reishi. Knew a guy in China used to swear by 'em." He held the cigars to his nose as he spoke, giving them a connoisseurial sniff before dropping them into a pocket of his coat. "Whatever doesn't kill you, right?"

[house_1_god_0]

And House took the bag of herbs, starting to sift through them himself as he listened. Normally, he wouldn't have even considered it for a trade. But somewhere, deep, deep inside, House did care about people. If they were on a caravan and someone started blowing chunks, he would help. Probably. It was more like he wouldn't complain if someone got pushed into taking care of them first. He wasn't one for compassion, but he wouldn't let people stay sick

[redrighthanded]

Hellboy made a noise in the back of his throat, kind of a verbal shrug, his left hand falling naturally to rest on the butt of the Samaritan. He didn't use the gun much these days, but it felt good to have it there. Just another piece of a place somewhere over the rainbow.

"Stranger things have happened. To me, anyhow."

He walked over to the swag-covered cot, his tail drawing thoughtful figure-eights in the air behind him. Picked up one of the bottles of booze, eyed it, and set it back down again.

[house_1_god_0]

"Yeah, I can guess. And I see that the name isn't a clever euphemism or something."

Part of House wanted to ask. He was sure that the guy had some interesting stories to tell. But that would go against the whole "distancing yourself" thing. And House had gotten so good at that. But to be fair, he had never met anyone that wasn't human. Crazy, maybe, and inhumane, but still quite decidedly human. Yet in the span of waking up here, he was going to potentially be treating zombies and vampires, and Hellboy here was living up to his name.

So the booze was more interesting, in that way.

"If you see anything you like, we can get an I.O.U. thing going. I already picked out the alcohol I'm keeping, so anything else there is for grabs."

[redrighthanded]

Hellboy looked back over his shoulder at House. "Yeah?"

He picked up the bottle again and bounced it a couple times in his left hand, as if weighing the contents. The Professor never used to like his drinking. The old man always knew, like some kind of weird alcohol-related sixth sense. Funny, how doing something to forget a person always made you remember them instead.

He turned around to face House, unplugging the bottle as he did so. Held the bottle up in a brief toast. "Guess I owe you one, doc."

[house_1_god_0]

"No problem." He pulled his own bottle off the table, holding up his cup to the toast. "If you see anything useful, just bring it over. Can't exactly go herb hunting in the woods with a cane."

Not easily, anyways. He was going to have to buy a Disneyland-friendly cane, at this rate. He took a shot from his drink before he sat down again.

It was just a little bit ironic, and the irony wasn't lost on him, that House had been almost nice to some people here. The closest he had gotten before was to an angry, bitter war veteran who he had cured of his phantom limb syndrome. That was nice. But that was nice just to get the guy to shut up. The only explanation was that these people were interesting. Some of them had walked straight out of Middle Earth, or whatever other pop culture reference was most appropriate, but it was something.

He was still kind of hoping that after getting drunk on fairytale booze, he would wake up in his bed in New Jersey. Or someone else's bed. It didn't matter.