multiversallogs | i hum your name and walk across corpses

Entry tags:

i hum your name and walk across corpses

Who: Integra Hellsing and Mina Barrett.
What: It's hard to turn down seeking out job opportunities when the suggestion is given to you by Dracula.
Where: The Hellsing Guild Hall.
When: Calling it ~~Saturday~~ Sukkardi night, for ease?
Notes: I got nothin'.
Warnings: Will edit if needed.

Unlike most businesses, after nightfall is when things really begin to pick up at Hellsing. Deliveries from contacts who can't make the trip during the day, more agents coming and going, the occasional grudging visit from something someone didn't quite kill That One Time - be it a mundane evening or the odd night when everything goes completely crazy, the hours cast in the dark are always busier than the ones in the light.

It's why Integra is presently out of her office and standing in the middle of the street in front of the hall itself, smoking a cigarette and checking out the enormous acid-like circular burn left on the pavement with two other employees. While it's certainly not immediately professional to be rubbernecking at the damage done by some godawful thing that's been brought in, she'd had to come out anyway to lend a hand in damage control - there's still gore and ichor on her boots, splattered on her shirt and trousers.

It's not such an uncommon sight.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mina had been restless for sunset. Her sleep was fitful, doubtlessly due to the increasingly frequent dreams she had been suffering about Tom. It was to weep. She had been so certain she was past nightmares now, having, on occasion, become one herself. So much for that.

As soon as she was awake and alert, Mina dressed in her pin-striped suit with the purple button down and tie. Carelessly throwing on her fedora, she headed up the stairs and out the door of the inn, not bothering to look back. Quickly, she consulted the map the strange creature at the employment office had given her, but she put it away after. It was always dangerous to look like a foreigner.

Making her way through the city, Mina allowed her mind to wander. She was still trying to sort out so many things. In fact, Baedal was the least complicated matter. All she needed to know was that she was here and here for a good long while. That meant nothing more than the basics of coming to any new city; finding a job, finding friends, determining who was the Prince, maintaining the Masquerade (even if it sometimes felt like there was none here).

Mina was just starting to allow herself to think about the dreams when she noticed the hullabaloo happening out on the street. A glance up told her she had arrived at the proper address.

Wonderful. Bloody wonderful.

As if the madman on the cohort network declaring sovereignty over all the living dead in the city could work anywhere normal.

Integra is still speaking candidly with her subordinates when she notices the approaching woman; instinct tells her that this is a vampire, but it's not her undead status that makes her pause - it's that she's someone new. Unannounced visitors who aren't someone popping up from another dimension whom Integra already knows are rare, and usually hostile. Still, she seems at as ease as she was before, her attention focused on the other woman.

"Can I help you?" Clear, slightly old fashioned received pronunciation; Integra exudes a sort of confidence that's slightly brash, but considering what she does, it's perhaps not unwarranted.

It was something of a pleasant surprise to be addressed by a woman first. It gave Mina hope for some kind of Crone presence in the city. Or at the very least, hope for some respect. "Yes," she said, all business, "I was invited here to interview for a position."

Mina took out her little chatting device, whatever it was called. As deftly as possible, she dialed in the proper numbers, pulling up her earlier conversation with the latest man to claim the mantel of Dracula. She had met several in her lifetime thus far. Only one had had much credibility, as far as she could tell, but that never really mattered to her. She wasn't Ordo Dracul, after all.

"Ah, here it is," she said, skimming the conversation. "Something about a medic position."

As soon as Mina says interview, Integra does looks slightly out of focus, but only briefly. (Sometimes, you need to give certain parties psychic punches to the kidneys to get their attention and clear matters of invitation.)

"Alucard is not exactly on our PR staff," she says dryly. "It's very tolerant of you, coming anyway." She takes the last of her black-papered cigarette between thumb and forefinger and puts it out properly on the bin outside the visitor entrance, and then extends her hand to the other woman. "Sir Integra Hellsing."

She has gloves on, and that generally dissuades vampires of a certain nature from being made outright uncomfortable by what she is - a Protestant Knight and hereditary practitioner of Hermetic mysticism - but if Mina is sensitive at all to True Faith, she'll probably notice it. The alchemical horror show that's bound to her is another story.

Mina frowned slightly. "Has someone been giving me the runaround?" she asked, more tired than annoyed. What had ever become of civilized vampiric society? Gone with the Roman Camarilla, she supposed. She and her order were the last remnants of common decency. At least, that's how Mina often felt. Not that she had been around back in those days, but Sunny confirmed it quite often.

God, she missed Sunny.

Shaking aside that thought, Mina shook the woman's hand. Her skin crawled slightly, but she couldn't quite decide why. Probably just annoyance, she supposed. "Hierophant Mina Barrett," she sighed, "Primogen out of Chicago. And apparently, wasting your time. I apologize. I suppose hazing the foreigners must be something of a sport around here. I'll be on my way then, if you've no need of me."

"That wasn't a dismissal, Ms. Barrett, merely a lamentation of the social skills of my subordinates." Integra, personally, has little time for conjecture or smalltalk - she's not sure what Mina's on about (as there are no vampiric orders in her world - everyone who is not employed by Hellsing is killed, end of story), but it's true that their medical staff is lacking.

"If you're still interested in inquiring about work, I've no objections to speaking with you."

"Dr. Barrett," Mina said lightly. "And I would be happy to speak with you."

She was a trifle puzzled. If the Dracula pretender had been a subordinate, did that make this woman the Prince? She had introduced herself as 'Sir' and not 'Prince' or any other title with which Mina was familiar. And was she even Kindred? Mina opened her senses as possible, seeking out any traces of predator's taint. Thus far, she had not felt it once in this place.

"Shall I stay here, or come back at your earliest convenience?" Mina had other interviews lined up, but all things told, she was sure she would be most comfortable working with an organization such as this, rather than a standard hospital.

"Doctor." She corrects herself easily; she has manners, blunt as she might be. "Now is fine, if you don't mind a bit of informality." ... As she is still sporting some gore bits.

Indicating for Mina to follow her, Integra sends one employee on his way, and the other proceeds her into the building. She leads her down a hall and into what constitutes a break room, because there's a sink in it. Fortunately, Integra had pulled her long hair back into a high ponytail before she went outside, so the mess isn't that difficult. She shrugs off her coat and then tugs her gloves off, setting about minimizing the black-blooded spatter that lingers.

"What are your medical qualifications?"

Mina followed, watching Integra with a lofted eyebrow. Ordo Dracul, she decided. The woman's demeanor was detached, scientific. Almost androgynous, not that Mina was one to talk. Perhaps she was a Mekhet, if she was, in fact, Kindred. Mina had always felt a bit weary of the Mekhet, despite the fact that her niece had joined their ranks.

She watched her washing up, wondering just what, exactly, it was spattered all over her. It smelled almost liked blood. "I received medical training at New York University," Mina rattled off indifferently. "I don't know if that means anything to you, but it's impressive where I come from." She shrugged. "I specialize in hematology as well as emergency care. Mostly meatball surgery. I can set bones and remove bullets. Served as a field medic during the American Civil War."

Mina bridged her fingers. It was a nervous tick she always fell back on when she wanted to feel like she had some kind of control or authority. Her rings sparkled in the light. "Forgive me for being blunt, but I feel a bit out of place here and just need to ask; are you the Prince?"

Sleeves rolled up, shirt and trousers wiped down, Integra moves on to scraping the muck off her boots with a damp cloth. She looks as mundane as one might be with muddy shoes. She's about to ask what contemporary year it is for Mina at home when that question pops up, and gives her pause.

"I'm human, if that's what you're asking." She doesn't think Mina means traditional royalty - yes, Alucard is technically a prince, and Nuala is a princess (and God only knows, concerning Hellboy). But what she's heard of certain otherworldly vampire hierarchies from Lyla and Réjean makes her think this is something else. "I am the leader of this organization, and commander in chief of all agents employed here, regardless of their species."

It's been a long time since a vampire hasn't been able to peg Integra as mortal - holy-touched and virginal, the whole nine yards - but while she is human, she is a rather unusual human, sporting alchemy laced into her very soul, and a psychic link with something rather terrifying.

Edited 2011-05-17 04:11 (UTC)

Mina frowned slightly, but nodded. This was getting utterly ridiculous. No Kindred? No Kindred? That was just beyond anything Mina had ever experienced. Beyond. There had to be structure. There had to be a hierarchy. And if there wasn't one...well...Mina wasn't entirely sure what she would do. She certainly wasn't keen on painting a target on her back by declaring herself Prince. Anyway, what would that matter? Prince over what? A kingdom of precisely one Ventrue?

"I see," she said quietly, taking off her hat to run a hand through her hair. "You must forgive my questions. I'm still adjusting to this place. And, as you might have guessed, I am...European."

She attempted a half-hearted smile. Really, what Mina was feeling, deep down, was what she could only term terror. This wasn't right. This wasn't proper. And she had no bloody idea what she was going to do about any of it.

Endure. That's what Anne would tell her. Endure.

For a moment that goes on for just long enough to be slightly awkward, Integra doesn't do anything besides look at Mina in politely restrained bogglement. Of course she's European. So is Integra.

"Well." A beat. "I'm English, if that helps at all. If you're looking for a vampire elder that is in charge of the rest of his kind here, that would be the man you spoke to. Vampires who abuse their fellow citizens - of any species - answer to my organization, if not him personally. That is how it works around here."

Integra tugs her gloves back on and picks up her coat, trying to find it in her to be emotionally aware at all. She's not the best people person, though she does try. "Why don't I get you something to drink," she offers, and gestures for Mina to walk with her. "I know this whole city can be a bit of a shock."

Mina ran another hand through her hair, tucking her hat under her arm. Well, fuck it. If there was no Masquerade, why bother? (God, Anne would kill her for this!) "I don't drink," she said, shaking her head. "Believe me, unless you want something regurgitated on your shoes, there's no need to bother with the formalities." She had, on occasion, been able to ingest one of Doyle's blood-laced alcoholic concoctions, but she was not in the mood for it right now.

"I am still interested in employment, however," she continued, turning around to examine the room more carefully. "Back home, I was under the employ of the Valkyrien Amazons, an order dedicated to maintaining what we lovingly refer to as the Masquerade. An...attempt...to separate the spheres of the mortal and the immortal." She paused. "That was, of course, in addition to my medical career."

"All right." Not quire carefully, but slightly understanding - it took Seras ages to learn to drink blood, and she was efficient in her abilities without it. Still, they are to be walking - Integra is leading her somewhere that is not a break room, now that she's done cleaning up. It's not her proper office, as that's behind a number of wards, but a meeting room on the first floor that she uses as an auxiliary quite often.

"If it is a part of your culture to maintain a facade, then I encourage you to do so," she says, gesturing for Mina to sit down. "Hellsing is a secret organization in our home world, and the existence of vampires and other beings beyond humanity is actively kept from civilians. Baedal plays with a different set of rules, so to speak."

Mina followed along, her shoulders not quite as square as they normally were. "There are those in my world who believe it is their duty to fulfill their role as the monsters that hide under children's beds," she muttered. "And there are those like myself who believe it prudent to stop them." It wasn't worth it to go into the intricate details of the covenants and their rivalries. And frankly, Mina didn't imagine Integra cared all that much anyway.

"I would benefit from knowing the set of rules I'm to live within for the time being," she murmured. "Perhaps you could indulge me with a lesson?"

Integra sits after she does, privately a little thrown, but not so much to betray anything in her composure. She decides she'll be contacting a particular vampire after this meeting, to get more information about the orders being spoken of here. Mina seems a bit overwhelmed for any kind of interrogation.

"Don't kill anybody," she states flatly. "Don't feed on the unwilling, don't use your abilities to exploit, harm, or terrorize. Don't turn anyone. Don't bind anyone to you." It is, apparently, not a vast rulebook. "People who behave like monsters will be dealt with as monsters. That is what Hellsing does."

For the most part, it sounded vaguely like the traditions. Except the part about not feeding on the unwilling. As far as Mina knew, there was no such thing as willing. Not without a serious Masquerade breach. She sighed. "We have similar rules." She ticked them off on her fingers, reciting them almost mindlessly. "Do not reveal your true nature to those not of the Blood. Doing so forfeits you your claim to the Blood. Sire another at the peril of both yourself and your progeny. If you create a childe, the weight is your own to bear. You are forbidden from devouring the heartsblood of another of your kind. If you violate this commandment, the Beast calls to your own Blood."

Mina shrugged. "Not being the maternal sort, I have no desire to Embrace anyone, so that's not a problem. And being an upholder of the Masquerade, I'm not inclined to harm or terrorize anyone. Well, terrorize anyone. I'll harm anyone who tries to harm me, of course. But that's a separate issue from my Kindred nature. That's self defense."

There was the matter of the Hippocratic Oath, but Mina separated it, in her mind, from her work as an Amazon.

"In any case, I'm not that kind of vampire."

"Then I doubt we'll have any problems." Good. It's all very convenient, so many of the vampires from other worlds being well-behaved. Integra isn't used to any besides Seras who aren't mindless killers. (Alucard is... something else.) "If you'd like to maintain your Masquerade, you should be able to. It is my business to recognize vampires, and outside this organization, it isn't a much-worked gift."

With that out of the way, Integra finds a pen and a sheet of paper and starts writing down a number of inquiries - Mina's contemporary year, her medical focus, notable cases she's worked on, so on and so forth. Hellsing doesn't have a standard application form, considering it's impossible to tailor anything in Baedal. As she writes: "Hellsing is, currently, the only presence in the city that deals with supernatural threats against civilians. The Militia will handle a situation that happens to be supernatural if it's within their scope and ability, as will district police, but as a whole, the city was in a rather sore state of things before I arrived. Baedal being isolated like it is, we aren't gifted with a plethora of options dealing with offenders. Our work is often unpleasant, violent, and while we do extend offers of help and support to those who want it, the aggressive nature of the entities we combat means we do not ask more than once. My agents fight to kill. We have no jail for monsters. Does any of that bother you?"

Edited 2011-05-18 01:05 (UTC)

Rigid. That was the word Mina had been searching for to describe this woman. Very, very rigid. Not that it was a bad thing. The position doubtlessly called for such a personality. Mina didn't envy it, not at all. She had never had aspirations to positions of authority. They were given to her, from time to time, but never sought.

She shrugged again. "I'm a medic. I'm being hired to clean up the mess afterwards, not to judge."

Mina bridged her fingers again, glancing down at her rings. She was feeling just miserable now. Mina hated feeling miserable. She worked so hard to cultivate a certain image for herself; carefree, frivolous, dare she say it, pointless. Baedal would not allow her the luxury of playing pretend. Her feelings were dangerously close to the surface now. She felt lonely and overwhelmed and just...raw.

Well. No matter.

"Is there anything else you need to know?"

Integra isn't called the Iron Virgin for nothing - she is a warrior, and a shadow government cabal member, and a Knight of the Round Table, and a military politician. It's a strange, difficult life, but one she was born into, and has no desire to change. Some people might call it unfair, that she was never given a choice - but Integra finds the sacrifice of one person's life to do a job no one else can to be a very small thing. What is she missing, anyway? Prom night? Pub crawls? She's human; she has one small lifespan in which she must make an impact. This is fine.

"Judging in itself isn't my concern," Integra says, and looks at her with a frank stare. "This is the atmosphere you will be exposed to, and required to maintain confidence concerning. It is not easy work, even as a medic." She passes Mina the paper she's written out, as well as something pre-printed, a basic rundown of Hellsing's operations from a public perspective. Then her gaze gentles slightly - it's not actually sympathetic, but carries less of her hard edge. "Take this, look it over, and consider it for a while. Get used to the city. You needn't process everything in one instant."

Mina accepted the paper without batting an eye. "I'll take a look," she said simply, folding it into three and putting it in the hidden pocket inside of her blazer. "I assume I can contact you over the network with any sorts of questions?"

That was one thing Baedal had going for it. The CiD network. Far more efficient than Chicago's Ghoul Network. And hopefully a bit more private, although Mina wasn't ready to count on that just yet. Somehow, the other shoe always managed to fall, just a soon as she started getting comfortable. Life was funny that way.

Standing up, Mina's mind wandered. She decided she needed to find a pub. Not a dodgy speakeasy or upscale wine bar. No. What she needed as a noisy, crowded room, filled with people who were singing extremely offkey. Perhaps even some dancing. Mina hated dancing, but right now, it might be the ideal tonic to this miserable place with its miserable people.

Somehow, she doubted she'd get directions to one from Integra. "Thank you very much for seeing me. I realize this was...impromptu."

She nods, rising. "I'm easily reachable." Perhaps not promptly, considering her schedule, but Integra always makes sure to get back to anyone who reaches out to her as soon as possible.

"Please, think nothing of it. I'm glad to speak with you." And she means that - she may be austere, and she may not understand... whatever it is that's going on with Mina, presently, but it's been interesting, and she'd rather know than not. (It's a pity Mina won't ask her about bars - Integra knows where everything in the city is.)

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to contact myself or one of my agents."

"I think all I need right now is a pub," Mina said, a bit tartly, perhaps, but she supposed she had a right to be in a sour mood. Then again, she often had that right and chose not to abuse it. She supposed she was just too far out of her own domain. Tomorrow, she decided, she would return to her old ways, cultivating a certain reputation for herself. But tonight, tonight she would indulge.

She offered Integra a hand, despite the fact that their last handshake had put her off. "A pleasure."

They're all out of their own domains. It's how they choose to react to it that dictates how each person behaves - Integra, for her part, has chosen to shove this world under her bloody boot heel just like the last two she was in. (It's a thing.)

"The Ankh in the village here is pleasant," she says. "In Badside, southeast of the distinct the arrival Inn is at, there are establishments that cater to the undead." Integra takes her hand, grip firm, and gives her a small small. "You as well. Have a good evening, Doctor."

Oh. So maybe she did know how to have fun.

Maybe.

She would have to file away that information for now.

Mina pulled her hand back. "Mina," she said, lightly. "I honestly have no love of titles. Probably because I have so many of them." Doctor. Primogen. Corporal. Hierophant. And, in some circles, 'that brazen hussy.' That one was probably her favorite. And then, of course, there was her real name. But that was buried deeper than her emotions generally were. Especially in light of Chicago.

"Good evening."

"Mina. Good night."

And that that, Integra's back to work - well, she's got to fire off a few messages about 'the Masquerade' first, but that's all just more work. (Sigh, vampires.) At least life's never boring.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i hum your name and walk across corpses

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject