drifting away, i'm one with the sunsets

[suninhades]

Who: Integra Hellsing with Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, and Mabel Albans respectively.
What: Job interviews!
Where: Hellsing Guild Hall.
When: This afternoon and the next morning.
Notes: Different threads! Go nuts. Also YES MABEL GOT ADDED IN HERE because stuff would have happened about on the same day and... we're lazy about making new log posts.
Warnings: Does Jack need a warning label?

Perhaps it's for the best that they won't be coming together - the questions Integra has for Jack are strikingly different than for Ianto, after a point. I's strange to think that she'll have no history with Ianto, but they were never particularly close; perhaps it's only strange that Owen isn't alongside him. But that's not something she has time to reflect upon in anything besides a strategic manner - she writes out her notes for what she needs to ask, then puts away the paper, committing everything to memory easily with the exercise.

... And then it's all paperwork and managing bumping cases as she waits. By the time Jack is scheduled to arrive, she's actually in the process of walking back up from the basement, but the attendant in the lobby will be able to ping her easily enough regardless.

Comments

[51stcentury]

Jack makes his way to the Hellsing Guild Hall, following the directions that Integra had sent him in their short conversation over the CiD. He wonders if walking up and knocking is too casual, but then they know that he's coming anyway, so. That's exactly what he does. Walks up and knocks, roughly around the time he's scheduled to be there (slightly later, because that's just how Jack works), and is let in by the attendant in the lobby. He waits somewhat patiently while the attendant phones up to the boss to tell her that he'd gotten there, looking around at the surroundings as he does.

[suninhades]

She's prompt enough to appear in the lobby - tall, wearing a black suit only barely tailored to her form, with long blonde hair and features just a bit too off from the norm to peg her as a perfectly normal Englishperson. She's more striking than good-looking; she'd probably have better look if she wore makeup or put on something less utilitarian, but from the serious way she carries herself, it's apparent that is not a priority.

"Captain Harkness." She greets him and extends one gloved hand to shake in a firm grip. "Sir Integra Hellsing. Thank you for coming. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience, I know we're a bit off the railway out here."

[51stcentury]

Jack turns to look at her, taking in her image, quite obviously giving her a visual once-over for a moment. "Oh wow," he says. "Didn't know what I was expecting in a Sir Hellsing, Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order, but you're definitely a welcome surprise."

He reaches out to take her hand and shake it. "Captain Jack Harkness, as you know, I guess. Ianto told me that he was sending out our resumes, but I wasn't sure that anything was going to come out of it. Up until your announcement, there, everyone's been pretty tight-lipped about everything about this organization except for the name."

[suninhades]

For a moment, Integra just gives Jack a bit of a blank look - not disarmed, really, but it's clear something just happened that she isn't quite computing. The look and the... compliment...? contrasted with him being familiar with her formal titles is unlike anything she's run into before. But it's not something she clings to, and that blank look is gone in a heartbeat.

"It hasn't been deliberate evasion," she tells him. "We don't have a terribly active PR department, as it were, and the sudden influx of arrivals has made us all a bit busy." But she did indeed notice Jack's keen interest from the get-go; it had made her wary, at first, but by now she feels fairly confident that this man is not the one she shared a city with in months past. "My office is this way-" she begins walking, gesturing for him to come with her. It's up a staircase and down a hallway, stone-lined and far less comfortable than the lobby but very functional. Such is life in a medieval structure - at least her office is well furnished. Once they're both seated, she begins again.

"I feel it would be unnecessarily obscure of me to not tell you immediately that I am somewhat familiar with Torchwood; that familiarity lead me to take your application seriously without further inquiry."

[51stcentury]

"Influx of arrivals meaning...?" Jack trails off, with a smile that was equal parts charming and equal parts serious interrogation right there, as he walks along with her towards her office. "Exactly how long has this organization been in the city, anyway? I was under the impression that most of the people I'd heard mentioning Hellsing arrived with this so-called 'cohort' of ours..."

Jack likes her office. It isn't really his style, but he thinks it suits her. He's about to open his mouth and say about as much when she beats him to talking and mentions being familiar with Torchwood. He's automatically slightly wary. "...and how exactly would you be familiar with Torchwood then, Sir Hellsing?" he asks.

[suninhades]

That's a whole host of questions, and she doesn't answer immediately, instead waiting for him to finish and - yes, that; she isn't surprised that he's not thrilled she's familiar with his super-secret alien combat organization. She doesn't begrudge him the reaction.

"Hellsing has been operational for approximately three months; the guild doing a similar line of work that predates us had been inactive for many years. Prior to that, both myself and my field commander were in another multidimensional trap disguised as a city, where I'd set up and run this organization there, too. The ease of our establishment here is largely thanks to having done it before not so long ago - learning process, and so on. The reason why I am familiar with Torchwood is because, in that other city, one of my primary collaborators on founding and managing Hellsing was a fellow abductee; one Doctor Owen Harper."

There was Ianto too, of course, and there's still the matter of 'arrivals' to explain, but she feels that's enough to process - and she doesn't feel like going off on some ridiculous expositional speech, anyhow. The conversation will get them there. (She's watching him, and closely, but whether it's because she's searching for something specific or because she's just like that is hard to tell. It's not unkind.)

[51stcentury]

Three months. That predates his and Ianto's arrival in the city, that much is certain. Mention of another multidimensional trap disguised as a city peaks his interest as well, although it's the mention of Owen that is what really causes Jack to pause in his communication with the other for a moment there.

"...Owen?" he asks, his voice sounding a bit odd to his ears because damn it, Owen had just died for him. Just died the second time and this time it was so much worse, because there was no saving him. Not any more. "...you mean to tell me that you met Owen Harper, and that he helped you establish a semi-secret organization centered on dealing with the supernatural?" It takes him a moment to adjust to the idea.

[suninhades]

"Yes." ... Well. "It wasn't secret in Bete Noire, actually, due to the makeup of the general population, but that's about the gist of it."

She starts picking through a few file folders to pull out various middle-ground information about Hellsing's departments for Jack to look over - or just fuss with aimlessly, if he's still too hung up about her mentioning Owen, whatever works. "Bit of an arse, really." (He super glued a nursery light-switch into her office.) "But I considered him a friend."

From the way she says it, picking the words carefully not out of caution but with a sort of unfamiliar deliberation, it's clear that Integra is not used to saying that about many people. Of all the things she's presented so far, that may be the least surprising, given her demeanor. She falls quiet for a while after that, not sure what to do with the strange, briefly melancholy feeling that settles in her stomach; she doesn't know how to miss people. It's been dizzying, all these acquaintances returning, and she's not naive enough to do anything as ridiculous as hope or wonder, but she did really rather like Owen.

"The influx of arrivals," she begins again, shaking herself out of it as if nothing had ever passed and handing Jack the papers she was going through, "Refers to the group that arrived within the span of the same few days, prompting the social at the Valhalla. Prior to that, I've not seen more than a single person come through the arrival room at random, and I'm told there wasn't many before myself and my subordinate for some months. It's been a steady stream of newcomers since then."

[51stcentury]

Jack doesn't miss that she was obviously close to Owen. He chuckles at the insult she shoots him. "Yeah, yeah... He was. Is, I guess. Nice to know that he is out there somewhere, I guess, making trouble for himself and others." It's obvious from his tone that he's pretty fond of the man in question.

He takes the files from her, flipping them open and glancing at the contents. "So you've been here for longer than the majority of us. Setting up this place, like you had in other places before this..." He looks up at her, putting the papers down for the moment. "Ianto sent you our resumes, he said, but I want to know. What do you know about me, exactly? And Torchwood?"

[suninhades]

"I know that Torchwood is a secret government agency dedicated to dealing with extra-terrestrial activity, that your headquarters in Cardiff was centered around a 'rift'. I've been made to understand that you have a condition that renders you incapable of dying, regardless of trauma inflicted upon your person."

Integra holds her pen a bit like a cigarette; she puts it down. "And you personally have no memory of a city called Bete Noire, is that correct? You've never heard of it before coming here to Baedal?"

[51stcentury]

Jack nods. "Established by the Crown to defend the Earth against the threat of alien attack, yes. And we monitored a rift in space of time running through the center of Cardiff. And...that's right," he says, affirming her knowledge of his own special 'talent', going a bit more serious. "I'm not. Capable of dying. Well, no. I'm not capable of staying dead. I've died any number of times, by now."

"And that's correct," he says, to the questioning about Baedal. "I don't have any memory of that city. As far as I'm concerned, I was out Weevil hunting and then suddenly I was here. No stops in between. Same with Ianto." Jack raises an eyebrow, suspiciously. "Did Owen really tell you all of that? Especially the part about me?"

[returntous.livejournal.com]

On her way there, Mabel keeps a sharp eye on the shadows. She's been doing that ever since she got here, seeking the dead and the forgotten, the things that stay in corners because they don't want to be seen. She's had mixed luck, most of it in frustratingly brief glimpses. She can't spot anything she can identity for sure, and she's not about to go chasing them down yet. They'll come out eventually. They always do.

Hellsing Guild Hall was an impressive sight, oozing with such officialness that it makes her skin crawl. Everything about this felt weird, going from a network of loosely connected organizations run out of basements or trailer parks to... this. It's almost enough to make her turn and run.

But she needs this job, she needs money for clothes, food, and housing, and it was better to do something she had an actual talent for than try to find the equivalent of a gas station job. She wouldn't look like much, with her ratty jacket and jeans that needed washing, but she had the natural advantage.

Breathing in deep, Mabel forces herself to enter and tells the attendant she's here. That, she tells herself, might just have be the hardest part.

[suninhades]

Hellsing is and always has been an odd mix of old world professionalism and dark humored modernity; paramilitary, yes, structured, yes, but the nature of the work is ever-changing and without any core stability. The employee makeup will always be ... varied. Case in point: Integra, when she appears, doesn't so much as bat an eye at Mabel's attire, despite the fact that she herself is wearing what amounts to androgynous formal-wear.

"Ms Albans," she greets her with one gloved hand extended, businesslike but not rushed. "Sir Hellsing. Thank you for coming." If her knack for the supernatural extends to humans with their own, there's something about Integra - something just slightly different, under the surface, despite being plainly human. "I apologize for the informality of this meeting; we've been a bit busy."

[returntous.livejournal.com]

Now that she's passed through the door, the rest of it was easier. She's not intimidated by Integra, although she knows that's a quite easy thing to be. The woman, instead, makes her very wary; the things that leaped from the dark at least had obvious motivations. Integra, she could immediately tell, was someone who held her cards close - not in a threatening way, not yet, but Mabel was going to make sure she was careful.

"That's alright, I think I know what you mean." Mabel shakes the offered hand firmly, using the appropriate amount of pressure. "Is there anything in particular you're looking for? As in..." Her attention wanders for a second - didn't Hellboy mention he worked here, or did he mean somewhere else?

"As in abilities and such?"

[suninhades]

"You said you're a paranormal investigator, so I'd like to ascertain what your work history entails." She gestures for Mabel to walk with her back to her office. "I've come to discover that means a wide variety of things, depending on the world. Are you talking hauntings and curses, or extreme combat?"

Once they're in her office, she waits for Mabel to sit down before doing so herself, continuing easily, "We have positions for all that and in between; it's important to determine where everyone's pages lie, however."

[returntous.livejournal.com]

Mabel just manages to stop herself from chewing on her nail. This wasn't an interrogation, this organization wasn't anything close to being the police. She could, if she wanted, walk out any time. But that would be stupid, because from what little she could gather, this place was going to be downright awesome.

"I've been in the business officially for about six years, but I've been sort of doing it all my life. My usual cases are hauntings, I, uh - " Her hands twist together. Hellboy said this was okay to be honest about, and if someone like Hellboy said it, it had to be true. "I see dead things. I've never been capable of directly understanding them, but they seem to... understand me? I've had a pretty high success rate with calming them down when they're freaking out a home owner. I've dealt with a lot of other things, but they're hard to... categorize. Usually on the smaller side, things that fall into cryptozoological categories, or things that are something else. I saw a water dragon dance through the rainclouds once, when I was little."

She frowns as she meets Integra's gaze, trying to be thorough. "I'm not experienced when it comes to some of more traditional supernatural creatures, like vampires or werewolves. I'm usually capable of telling when someone isn't human, but it's not so easy to tell you way. I can do some basic warding, like keeping things out and in, but that's limited to the dead or the between. My usual method is to see if I can reason with something or understand it's purpose, but I'll kick in some heads if I need to do that. I'm more of the person you call when that coyote with three heads ate your cat."

That's happened. More than once.

[suninhades]

Integra nods, listening. More of a medium than a hunter, then. Not that this line of work in any capacity was ever violence-free. She picks through some papers in a file folder - information on Research and Exorcisms, particularly - and raises one eyebrow at the coyote bit. So many Americans.

"We deal with people who are experiencing hauntings, cursed objects, being followed by shadow-folk; odds and ends that the Militia - the police - can't handle but that doesn't warrant an army being sent in." She hands Mabel the papers. "It's actually the most difficult field to hire people for, as it requires something in between an adept's nature and formal training." She imagines Mabel finds herself exasperated often enough with people who can't see like she does.

[returntous.livejournal.com]

Mabel excepts the paperwork and scans them. "I've never had any formal training," she admits. "It's not widely believed in where I come from and the methodology varies quite a lot. I'm very unique, as far as I can tell, in exactly how my abilities work, but uh..."

A small smile flickers across her face. She could do this. "Hopefully I can find a way to be an asset regardless?"

[suninhades]

"I think that the fact that you have any methodology at all is promising," she says. "I'm put in a position of having to take people at their word, due to circumstances - I suppose I could put you through a trial period but I feel like that would just be a waste of time for the both of us. I'd rather just assume you are not so insane as to appear in this place and go lying about a line of work that will certainly result in your immediate death the day after. Perhaps partner you with a senior agent for a while so that you can see how we operate and assess the sorts of things we deal with. Does that sound reasonable to you?"

[returntous.livejournal.com]

There is something about the phrase 'immediate death' that just makes her smile. She can't say she's more or less used to immediate death, but it's not something that bothers her all that much. Dead ain't so bad, if you see it all the time.

"That sounds perfectly reasonable."

[suninhades]

Always a promising reaction! (...) It's not that Integra is trying to scare her with talk of dying - obviously this is a woman who doesn't scare, having come here and being in this line of work - but certain things are casually topical when you fight the forces of darkness for a living and, well, sudden death is one of those things.

"Excellent." Integra starts pulling out yet more paperwork - she passes the first sheet and a pen to Mabel, and then sorts more as she speaks. "I'll need you to fill that out for the preliminary weeks, and then, pending how settled anyone gets, we can sort out something more official. I understand the Inn does a certain amount of credit for new arrivals, but once that's up, if you're still working here, the village nearby has several flat complexes and and cottages that offer particular rental agreements for Hellsing employees. They like the business."

Sobek Croix isn't a happening district, but it's convenient, and while there's not a super market there's a farmer's one, and a general store, some bars (one of which is even a dive!) and so on and so forth. As the guild hall is somewhat in the middle of nowhere, most employees were local residents to begin with, having made them a quickly integrated part of the community.

[coffeeking]

Ianto arrives at the Hellsing Guild Hall approximately ten minutes before the designated time he's to meet with Integra. Punctual, and properly early, as always. He's greeted by someone he immediately pegs as 'general support', much to his own silent amusement. Pleasantries are exchanged, and Ianto settles into a chair in the lobby to wait.

[suninhades]

General support is accurate, though to work at Hellsing one must have a high level of tolerance for the violent and the strange, or at least a very particular sense of humor. It's a curious group of people, even on the clerical staff.

Integra appears to collect him ten minutes after his arrival on the dot - she's busy enough that her schedule ends up running close to the wire on all accounts. She greets him and extends one gloved hands. "Mr Jones, thank you for coming. I apologize for the odd hours I keep."

[coffeeking]

In that respect, Hellsing is not unlike Torchwood. Ianto feels strangely at home here already, much more so than he does in the rest of Baedal.

"Not at all," he assures, shaking her hand firmly, but gently enough to be considered polite. "I'm rather accustomed to odd hours."

[suninhades]

She nods; good - and gestures for him to walk with her to her office. (She thinks for a moment she should have made it closer to the lobby, considering how many times she's walked this track in the past week.) "I'll get this out of the way first," she begins, as they're still walking, "I'm sure you've gathered thanks to Princess Nuala that yourself on another timeline has worked for Hellsing before. Due to that I'm inclined to hire you without much further fuss over the matter, but there's obviously plenty of things to go over. Beyond that, I'm content not to bring it up again, as I can only imagine what a bloody headache that phenomenon is for you."