Integra is as she always is, a monolith of seriousness and no-nonsense with a lurking violent streak and the occasional moment of dark humor. She seems the same, with no cracks in her mask. (Someday, life will wear her down. Nobody can live at this pace, dragged in between dimensions, and deal with all that suppression. But for today, she's just fine - if pissed off at Alucard, presently. Not unusual, that.) It's Dean that she notices, the way he's just slightly out of focus. It's forgivable for a hundred reasons, among them this being his first bloody hour in this place, and the apparent lack of his brother.

"Quite." English understatement. Gets the job done, at least. "The economy is functional, however, as is the government, however flawed. It can be difficult to get your feet under you, here, even with the help they give us so-called 'strangers'." She's quiet for a moment as they walk; her office is deep in the warded core of the building. "You of course have a place to stay, already."