multiversallogs | (no subject)

Who: Princess Nuala and Dean Winchester
What: Look, you just don't leave a Princess chilling in the arrival room.
Where: The Valhalla Inn to start, then journeying to Hellsing's guild hall.
When: Right after Nuala's arrival post.
Notes: This log's special guest star: Baskerville.
Warnings:...contains Dean Winchester.

By the time they reach the Valhalla Inn, Dean is mostly over his oh-God-it's-a-hellhound-oh-my-god-augh kneejerk reactions. You really can't blame the guy; he sold his soul and dogs like these are supposed to come ferry him across the border one of these days.

With their teeth.

One even came after him in Bete Noire. And his contract, if you count the passage of time in a linear fashion from when he got shanghaied out of Colorado, has been up for a few months. So indulge him his discomfort.

Though that's fading--if Baskerville was going to eat him he'd have done it by now. And he has to admit seeing the crowd thin in their path as they got off the el train was kind of funny. Also the Princess was downright delighted to hear the dog was coming; he can't deny her that, especially not for some dumb reason like the dog scares the crap out of me, ma'am.

"Arrival room's through there, man," he says as they cross the hotel's entry.

...Fine, okay, Baskerville probably already knows that or he can smell the Princess or whatever. And shut up about talking to the dog, he's used to having some giant being at his side when he's on the job, it was a natural reaction to talk to him.

"This way." And there they are at the arrival room, only this time, Dean's on the other side of the doors. He straightens up to his full height and pulls open the doors. "Your Highness?"

Threaded | Flat

Two things are immediately obvious as Nuala steps into the open doorframe. Firstly, that her delight at Baskerville's inclusion is both thoroughly genuine and entirely mutual - as the hound bumps his head into her knees and shoves his way under her free hand for affectionate pettings and some cooing in a fae language that Dean doubtless doesn't actually speak - and secondly that it wasn't a gauntlet that had been on the table behind her.

The style of its creation is similar - it looks a little like one, hand, wrist, part forearm, but it's more solid, more like some enchanted prosthetic...which is, of course, precisely what it is. It's heavy, and Nuala's holding it awkwardly in one arm as she scratches Baskerville behind the ears, but it's unlikely she's going to give the thing up to anyone in the near future.

"Mr Winchester," she says, with a smile that's a little thinner than is her usual wont but nevertheless genuinely meant. "Thank you for coming."