Comments | hometrail: the odd couple (active/closed)

redrighthanded in hometrail

the odd couple (active/closed)

Jun 01, 2010 18:45

Characters: Hellboy (redrighthanded) & Dr. Watson (motherhenning).
Setting/Location: Gamma Tower, N-302.
Date & Time: Day 0, late evening.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Hellboy and Watson meet for the first time. It's bound to go well, right?

( Look at this. You're the only man in the world with clenched hair. )

hellboy, john watson, *day 00, #style: prose

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motherhenning June 1 2010, 18:42:59 UTC

While Watson wasn't exactly a stranger to unexplained goings-ons, he was fairly certain that he'd never even had a dream so surreal as what he was presently experiencing. It was like he'd unexpectedly stepped into one of the more garish paintings hung in the Gallery back in London, but without the safety of a frame and good common sense between oneself and the art. Of course, the people seemed nice enough, and more than willing to send him on his way with a steadily growing group of other individuals-- the likes of which he hadn't seen even while traveling with the army-- but the situation was still so preposterous that he was having difficulty wrapping his head around it.

They'd heard of this Way Warrant fellow and they were all to be sent off on this caravan that, he'd seen it with his own eyes, was being pulled by a giant of all things. And his roommate, presumably, was named Hellboy. Watson rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as came to this shared room. With a name like that, he could only pray the man- boy- whatever wasn't keen on such late night activities as violin.

He pushed the door open, stopped, and said: "Oh."

redrighthanded June 1 2010, 19:05:41 UTC

Hellboy glanced back over his shoulder at the sound of the door opening. The man who entered the room looked like he'd stepped onto the ride somewhere around the early 19th century. Doctor Watson, I presume.

"Hey," Hellboy replied, trying to ignore the good Doctor's shocked expression as he turned back to his work. He picked up an oil-stained rag with his stone hand and started to work it over the barrel of the Samaritan. "You get the top bunk."

motherhenning June 1 2010, 19:28:12 UTC

It took him a moment longer to settle into the situation than he would have liked, but he pulled his gaze to the bunk bed and narrowed his eyes. His shoulders slacked at the sight. Well, beggars couldn't be choosers. And he'd slept in worse places.

"Very well," He stepped into the room and set his case and junogam down on the desk, before his attention was caught by the movement of the other man's-- was that a tail? For the upteenth time that day, Watson wondered if he really was still dreaming. Or if maybe Holmes had taken it upon himself to drug him this time instead of the dog. "You must be- Hellboy, was it?"

redrighthanded June 3 2010, 16:53:33 UTC

"Yep." Hellboy looked over at Watson, who appeared to be watching the pendulous tick of his tail like a man hypnotised. He cleared his throat and shifted a little in the too-small chair, reeling the wayward appendage in.

"And you're Doctor Watson." He grunted, amused, and returned his attention to the gun. "I read your books when I was a kid. My old man thought they'd be a good primer."

motherhenning June 4 2010, 20:27:42 UTC

"It would seem many of the passengers here have read my work," A fact that Watson still found rather startling. It wasn't as though he'd had them all published. Half of them were buried in a case back in London, and some he hadn't touched since writing them. As it would be decidedly rude to stare at this man in an unabashed attempt to figure out exactly what he was, Watson took it upon himself to first dissect the room. He started pulling open drawers, making his way around the room slowly, stopping only when he had reached the window. That was when his curiousity got the better of him.

"Have you ever experienced anything like this before?" He assumed the answer would be no, as most people seemed to have little to no idea what was going on, but one could hope.

redrighthanded June 10 2010, 23:36:09 UTC

Hellboy set the rag down and began to reassemble the revolver, the metal pieces making faint clicking sounds against his stone palm. He watched Watson out of the corner of his eye as the man moved around the room, a faint smile returning to his lips every time he remembered just who he was going to be sharing a bunk bed with.

"Nope," he replied when Watson asked his question. "My kinda weird is usually limited to ghouls and ghosts and undead Nazis, that sort of thing."

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