(no subject)

[wearyheadtorest]

Who: Hellsing personnel
What: The meet-and-greet barbecue.
Where: Out in back of Hellsing HQ.
When: Givdi, beginning in the afternoon, stretching on into the night.
Notes: Dean's network post will be the first comment, after that, just tag in at will to create new threads at the barbecue itself.
Warnings: Contains Alucard. Also contains Dean Winchester. Further warnings to be added as we go AW SHIT I NEED TO WARN PEOPLE ABOUT THAT.

About midday, a call goes out on the Hellsing filter from Dean, setting this thing up.

By mid-afternoon, with help, there are a couple of grills going, crabs on the boil, tables lined up in the grass behind the guild hall. There's meat, there's shellfish, there's vegetables and side dishes. There's even some wine and beer.

Hello, Hellsing. Come meet and greet your fellow operatives.

Comments

[video; Hellsing lock]

[wearyheadtorest]

[Sup Hellsing. Have Dean, and his :D face.]

Hey.

I read my brochure, and I saw that today is Givdi. Day of giving. Get it? Anyway. It's a day to give gifts. And I think, after all the ass-kickings we handed out with that monster bullshit, we deserve a little unwinding. And we need to all meet each other.

So in the spirit of the day, I have something I want to give all of you.

Crabs.

I got up early this morning and I started working my way all up and down the docks and I have got crabs like you wouldn't believe.

Come meet me out in back of the hall this afternoon and I will give you crabs.

[:D]

[ text | hellsing filter ]

[cailisairgid]

Nice to know some things don't change. We'll see you.

[video; Hellsing channel]

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Sweet. Save me some to work with. I'll be by after I go shopping for the other stuff I'll need.

[video; Hellsing lock]

[51stcentury]

[smirk] Give us crabs? Is that a promise, then?

[video; Hellsing lock]

[returntous.livejournal.com]

I'm pretty sure there's cream for that.

[video; Hellsing lock]

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

You and this fucking crabs thing.

Anyway, I'll be there.

[cailisairgid]

Having spent a respectable amount of time contributing to the cooking effort, later into the afternoon Sol can be found with his daughter on his shoulders and a beer in the hand that isn't holding what's probably Liesl's plate (judging by the fact he holds it up to her occasionally when she demands something). The Koenigs have been living at the hall temporarily, though he's been speaking with a local landlord and they should be moving out next week, and the smaller of the pair is apparently quite accustomed to and happy with her position as unofficial mascot.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Hellboy wanders on by, his plate stocked with a variety of selections. He stops when he sees the Koenigs, considers them for a moment, and says in a tone of faux wonderment, "I didn't know we had any kids on staff."

[heardmermaids.livejournal.com]

Making his way through the assembled crowd, Sebastian pauses to greet Liesl and Sol. "Hullo again. How are you both doing today?"

[hehaseatenthepancake]

After his shopping run, Hellboy set up his own little cooking station near the others. His contribution was a bit more involved than some of the others: thankfully, he was able to save some time by buying pre-made wonton wrappers, but he still had to mix up the crab meat, cream cheese, and other ingredients and get them wrapped before he could fry them up for eating.

It had been a long time since he last made crab rangoons. Fortunately, the time he had to spend cooling his hooves in the Inn the other day was enough to dredge the recipe up from out of his memory. He'd gotten it from a restaurant in San Francisco, early in his career, after he'd helped them with a hobgoblin gone bad that had taken up residence in their kitchen. (Ten years later, after they'd opened a location in England, he got their Mai Tai recipe for taking care of a werewolf problem.)

Once the rangoons are cooked up, they get laid out on racks to drain oil and cool off a little before being transferred to trays for people to pick up. His duty done, Hellboy takes off his apron -- just because he can withstand boiling oil doesn't mean he wants to -- puts his coat back on, and wanders around for other food and socialization.

[wearyheadtorest]

"These things are amazing."

Dean may be on his fifth or sixth crab rangoon. Who's counting? Certainly not him.

"Dude, you really went all out. Outstanding."

[51stcentury]

Jack made his way out to the designated place where Dean had set the barbecue up behind the Hellsing guild hall. It was hard to miss, and even if he hadn't gotten the message in the first place, he probably would have wandered out to see what the fuss was all about anyway. Knowing what it was was an added bonus.

The message had been cute, he thought, their invitation there. 'Give you crabs' indeed. This Dean guy was obviously more than a little cheeky. Which was fine for Jack. He rather liked cheeky. Then again, Jack liked pretty much anything, so that wasn't exactly a feat by any means.

Jack wasn't really much of a cook. Well, not for large groups of people, anyway. The fact that he had learned to cook far away and long into the future meant that he really didn't know how to work with the ingredients they had there, and without the means to experiment himself, he was content to stand back and let other people handle it instead. So instead he had a glass of beer in hand and was standing back, watching the crowd, a smile on his face, in his usual outfit of trousers, button-down, braces, and RAF greatcoat.

[wearyheadtorest]

This Dean guy comes rolling by, nursing a beer of his own. From the bottle, mind you, he's used to it that way. (Since it usually came from a convenience store or a cooler in the back of his car.)

He's busy taking in the crowd, too, trying to match names to faces. He spots one he doesn't know and he wanders over. "That's an awesome coat." (The weapons he could hide in a coat like that, the mind boggles...)

"Don't think we've met. I'm Dean Winchester."

[heardmermaids.livejournal.com]

"Hullo again." Sebastian sought out Jack both to make sure the man survived the creature invasion and, more unusually, because he's found that he genuinely enjoys the other man's company.

[heardmermaids.livejournal.com]

During the week after the critter invasion, Sebastian had been quiet almost to the point of being withdrawn into his work. Now, during the barbecue, he and Velcro are out and about in public, but still hanging back from the main crowd of Hellsing staff.

[lily-schlaflied.livejournal.com]

Shiori spies the dog from what seems like a million miles away and makes a beeline. Her smile is wide and genuine as she crouches in front of Velcro, holding a hand out for him to sniff. "May I? He's so cute!"

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Hellboy's had his food, for now at least, and has been circulating around being social with a cup of some non-alcoholic beverage. He pauses as he sees Sebastian off to the side, and for a moment, something about the way the other man is standing apart reminds him a little of his old friend Abe.

I shouldn't be getting that nostalgic without any booze in me, he thinks with mild irritation at himself. Feeling, as he would with Abe, that at least some effort had to be made, and seeing nothing else for it, he finishes his cup and puts it aside, then works his way around so that he can make something of a casual approach.

"Hey. You all right there, Sebastian?"

[byrightsinhell]

Eventually, Lucius makes his way over to say hello. He hasn't been mingling overmuch himself, aside from his chat with Sol and Liesel.

"You know, I'm half surprised at every party I attend that a drunken Russian doesn't crash." A youth spent with Antonin Dolohov will do that.

[byrightsinhell]

Lucius isn't precisely sure he should even be here, as a freelancer, but it's important to keep making and reinforcing contacts, if he wants to survive in Baedal properly. As easy as it would be to withdraw and try to stick to the small remnants of his own kind, he needs to make his face familiar and at least somewhat trusted - for Narcissa's sake as well as his own.

It may not be possible to look out of place in such a varied group, but Lucius does look a bit thoughtful, deciding how to proceed.

[cailisairgid]

Nearby, a small altercation is getting progressively louder - the youngest of attendants is down from her father's shoulders and doing her level best to yank herself away from him toward Lucius, while Sol crouches down in an effort to contain both his child and his child's developing tantrum.

"-it's Uncle Richard," she insists, pointing with an outstretched finger and kicking angrily when Sol catches her hand and closes his own around it. "Daddy, look, you're not looking, he's right there, Daddy, look-"

"I know what he looks like, Liesl- Liesl, don't point- I know, baby, but it's not Uncle Richard. Your uncle never dresses like that, see? It's not him, you stay over here with me-"

"He's got a face," she wails, because she's a good girl, she's been very good, and there's been so much upheaval that she adjusts to because she has to, she's learned to, but that should be her uncle and it's just altogether too much that she should have to deal with the fact that it isn't on top of everything else.

Parenthood is awesome, in case anyone was wondering.

[returntous.livejournal.com]

Mabel has a beer in one hand and an unopened one tucked under her arm. Don't judge her. She's pretty banged up from the whole monster mash ordeal - there's still a cut on her cheek that 'flesh-colored' bandaids don't hide, and a few more bandages up and down her arms. She's wearing short sleeves, exposing not only the bandages but an alarming collection of scars, because fuck it. She isn't going to bother hiding them around Hellsing. It wasn't like anyone cared.

Her plate's empty, at the moment, and she's considering the crabs. If she really wanted to try them, she'd have to admit that she's never eaten crabs before, and didn't quite know how to go about it.

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

Lyla approaches Mabel whilst precariously balancing a beer on top of her head with one hand; this is...for no discernible reason. As predicted, she doesn't even seem to notice the scars.

"I promise, they're dead by now," she says, grinning.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

Boromir was at Hellsing HQ dealing with the usual bout of things a new job brings: contracts to sign, places to get shown around, so on and so forth.

(All of which is new to him since he's never had a job so much as a duty he was born into.)

Just as he was preparing to leave, he heard the gathering out back and went to see what was going on. He'd thrown his own share of feasts and celebrations for his men post-battle, so while he's not familiar with the term 'barbecue,' it certainly looks familiar.

It's quite possible someone might see him standing at the book door while he looks on for a moment.

[lily-schlaflied.livejournal.com]

"Did you just get here?" Shiori asks, peeking around Boromir. "So did I." She laughs lightly, moving to face Boromir properly and bowing slightly in greeting. "I'm Shiori. It's nice to meet you!"

[lily-schlaflied.livejournal.com]

Shiori, having just been hired, wanders into the barbecue apprehensively. Everything had changed so fast - too fast for her liking, and while she at least had a job now, it was about as far removed from being a librarian and barista as you could get. As different and scary as it was, though, social work had always been an interest of hers. Dealing with people who weren't children would be a new challenge.

After successfully obtaining some crab, Shiori finds a free table to sit at and begins eating. She looks around, still overwhelmed by what was happening to her. It wasn't just the change of vocation or location that got to her, but the presence of things other than human. Shiori was nothing if not polite, and she even found it comforting to not be the only not-normal person around, but this was a lot for her to handle at once.

[wearyheadtorest]

Someone sitting alone, and quiet, at a party is kind of a sad thing. Dean sees Shiori eating, and checking out the crowd. He hasn't seen her before today--is she new? He knows this place can be overwhelming.

He comes over to her table, a friendly smile on his face, plate in hand, beer in the other hand which he uses to gesture to a seat across from her. "Hi. Mind if I join you?"

[suninhades]

Not early enough to be fashionably late but not quite so late as to be rude, Integra finally puts in an appearance. She comes alone, and from the direction of the forest - where the house is - giving her the impression of having materializing from nothingness. Seeing as how she's less joining the party than she is approaching it cautiously, as one might a wild and dangerous animal, perhaps it makes sense.

She's not dressed in her standard near-formal attire, instead sporting a combination that is trapped somewhere in between accidentally fashionable and awkwardly out-dated; the shirt is edgy enough (... and thus clearly not her doing), but she's coupled it with someone's grandmother's cardigan and riding boots, and she's still armed. Though her body language is typically aloof and commanding as she hovers at the edge of the event, observing quietly, someone with a keen eye might be able to pick up on the fact that she simply has no idea what to do in social situations, and is having a bit of a deer in headlights moment.

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

"Oh, you did wear it!" Lyla's tone is enthusiastic, as she basically comes bounding up to Integra like a gangly excited Satanic goth vampire puppy. "It looks good."

Social situations: occurring. Lyla figures once Integra gets into the mix, it'll all be fine.

[apostatised]

It would be easy to mistake Martel for a field agent - he looks like he should be, with that build and demeanour - but some of said field agents may already be better acquainted with him as a recently acquired training instructor in combat and riding most prominently. (The more antiquated weaponry that is Baedal's standard is incidentally the equivalent of Elenia's cutting edge designs, and Martel doesn't merely teach or study weaponry and hand to hand, he innovates. A useful sort of man to have around, and a quick study as he familiarizes himself with the more modern modes.)

This is not the sort of socializing he's accustomed to, and frankly he'd rather not get accustomed to any kind of socializing - but Martel does better with company, and he can justify this as useful. Becoming acquainted with those who work here, making himself recognizable...

A glass of wine makes the whole thing a bit more tolerable. He isn't socially inept (far from it), just occasionally fancies himself anti-social. (He isn't that, either, he just wishes he were.)