the odd couple (active/closed)

[redrighthanded]

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?

Comments

[motherhenning]

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'

[redrighthanded]

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]

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]

"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."