multiversallogs | i won't sympathize anymore

Who: Integra and Dean to start, open to all expat Hellsing operatives eventually.
What: Integra returns to hq and is interrupted by a familiar face.
Where: Outside the Helling Guild Hall.
When: A little while after Alucard's post.
Notes: Start new threads as you need to! Otherwise, party post after the initial one.
Warnings: Uh. Dean. And... Alucard.

In the weeks since Integra's arrival to Baedal, she has had only infrequent cause to observe the cohort network. She rarely fraternizes with anyone - new arrivals like herself or natural citizens - outside of work. Despite the name, she certainly doesn't feel particularly aligned with anyone else in the city, and hasn't ever had anything to say to anyone.

It's not unusual.

But the network gets used, if not by her, and so there's a girl on staff that checks for Integra, and alerts her to anything relevant to Hellsing. Said assistant, just moments ago, scurried up with eyes only slightly wide (to her credit), clutching her CiD, and in an almost-tremulously reported: "Mister Alucard has done something."

The things she puts up with. Honestly.

Hellsing's guild hall is a bit of a hike from any of the transport lines, but that doesn't mean it takes Integra very long to get back - and that's where she is now, stalking at a purposeful pace towards the main gate, coat fanned out behind her, expression of stop at your own peril clearly etched on her face.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It never did quite come up, no. He knows she's a knight, but not of what order.

He chuckles. "Yeah. Back in the day, I had to do the occasional guest appearance, meet-and-greet, that sort of thing. The socializing was okay, but I could never get into the politics of it all." The trials of being both the top field agent and also the primary publicly-recognized proof of the supernatural. "I can deal with local cops, though. That won't be a problem."

Well that won't be an awkward conversation when it happens, or anything.

"I would prefer it if you had as minimal contact with the Militia as possible." She flips through the open cases as she speaks, pulling out ones that strike her as suited to Hellboy's particular skillset. Not that she has any vast experience with him personally, but she's got an eye for this sort of thing, after all. "Nothing to do with you, but they're all bureaucratic bastards. I have some scorned lower ex-government employees on our PR payroll for absolute emergencies. Sometimes," she leans on one elbow, cigarette between her fingers, passing him files with the other hand, "It's unavoidable. But it's a bloody headache, and a waste of time."

While it is probably not actually a surprise that a woman used to being part of a cabal shadow government with absolute power is annoyed about a democratic government she is not a part of, Integra isn't just being grudging.

No, not at all.

"Oh," he says, surprised and dismayed. "So they're fine with our helping them, but we can't expect any professional courtesy from them? That's crap." He takes a deep pull from his cigarette, putting all of his annoyance into the cloud of smoke he breathes back out. "Well, maybe they'll come around after seeing us work for a while."

He's aware of just how foolishly optimistic he's being by saying that, but he prefers to maintain at least a little hope.

"We'll see."

WELL, WHEN NUALA GETS HERE... But this log hasn't caught up yet, so oh well. Integra isn't used to not being in charge, but she's used to shoving petulant whiners out of the way so that she can work - it's effective enough. Dryly, "Mr. Benjamin is generally willing to work with me, though I feel he appreciates the minimal contact as well."

She stacks up some cases, puts away the rest, and then begins hauling out some more paperwork from another drawer. "We've got a channel on the cohort network," she says. "The city technicians are, as far as I'm aware, neutral and half-fueled by their gods, so I'm not entirely confident in its security, but it's necessary for communication. Anything besides general dispatch chatter is best handled in person or with non-electronic documents."

"Hm. Good to know." He nods, then looks up more sharply. "Hey, that reminds me. Just what is the deity situation around here? I'd heard there's a local pantheon, but not much more than that."

"I don't bother much with it," she admits. She is, after all, still Protestant - or so she insists outwardly, ignoring her private struggle between duty the ever-increasing leanings toward Hermetic mysticism in her life. "Supposedly they have great influence, though I've never seen any hard evidence. Conjecture and faith."

There was a time when she would be far more dismissive than that, but being in the midst of a so-called purification Crusade as it was happening... well. She's been a bit quieter about her church. All the same, she doesn't seem inclined to dwell on the subject of the rainbow toy polytheistic god set about town, and hands over yet more papers, some stapled together at the corners.

"This district is called Sobek Croix, and the town center is just west of here. There are a few landlords that offer free utilities to Hellsing employees. They like the business. I'm not sure how fond you are of the quiet atmosphere out here, I understand it's a bit out of the way, but it's worth the recommendation." The Inn is only hospitable for so long, anyway.

"Mm. Well, I'm not the worshiping type in general, but knowing how my life goes, I'll probably run into them eventually anyway." The sigh that goes with that is itself accompanied by a small puff of smoke. It's so hard being the shiny thing that everyone with a stake in the apocalypse chases after. He shrugs. "I'll look into it on my own time."

Hellboy takes the papers, files, and whatever else, holding all of them in his Right Hand while flipping through them with his left, the dwindling remains of the cigarette dangling in his lips.

"The neighborhood's pretty nice. Reminds me of a lot of places I've been over the years. Living close to the Guild Hall's not a bad idea, either." He finishes the last of the cigarette and looks back at Integra as he stubs it out in the ashtray. "Speaking of recommendations, you know a decent tailor around here?" He tugs at the lapel of his coat. "I've been lucky this one's lasted as long as it has; I should probably get a couple of replacements lined up, just in case."

Her only response to the gods is a noncommittal nod; she tries not to be rude about it but her level of caring about the local pantheon is less than it was for the imposters in Bete Noire, so... well it's not a lot of caring. She tangentially supports The House Ecumenal, but even then, she's come to prefer keeping that sort of thing to herself.

"There's just about anything one can dream up, here," she says, jotting down a few places on a sheet of note paper for him. "It's a lot of small businesses and craftspeople versus chains - nowhere to import from. It makes the economy strong, but requires a lot of work." She doesn't sound put off. Better than inflation!

Oh, he'll probably check them out too, eventually, but he's familiar enough with their end of things that they're lower priority.

"Sounds pretty good," he says as he glances over the list. "I'm fairly used to needing my stuff done custom, anyway. Thanks." Even big-and-tall store coats usually don't have sleeves large enough to accommodate the Right Hand of Doom. "Anyway, I think that about covers the basics. Was there anything else you wanted to go over?" He knows she's probably still busy, but also that they haven't ever talked much.

"I think it's easiest to just get right back to work. Fussing about it seems needless."

Maybe she'll start warming up to people, someday - you know, like a real person, instead of a robot build to manage an undead hunting agency. Not right now, though. She does indeed have a lot of work to do.

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown, as the saying goes. Hellboy has largely avoided dealing with that himself thus far, but he's aware of the concept and how it undoubtedly applies to the level of commitment Integra has taken upon herself. Thus, he takes what might otherwise seem like a curt dismissal with a little smile and a nod.

"All right." He gets up with files and paperwork in hand and makes his way to the door, waiting until he's opened it to turn and say, "It's good to see you." And away he goes.

i won't sympathize anymore

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