babylon. (
suninhades) wrote in
multiversallogs2011-05-20 06:39 pm
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drifting away, i'm one with the sunsets
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.
... 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.
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"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."
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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."
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"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."
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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.
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"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.)
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"...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.
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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."
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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?"
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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?"
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"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?"
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For now, there's something else to address, and she gives him a look that's a bit more calculated. Observant. When she speaks, it's clear she's not exactly thrilled to be relating this to him. Honesty, as virtuous as it might be, is not always polite nor comfortable. "There was an incident," she says. "Though I had not met you, I was aware of you. This awareness included a standing obligation to break your jaw should we meet, in Bete Noire. Seeing as you are on good terms with Mr. Jones, I am confident you are not the same man." Or there's some significant time between their lives, at any rate - Integra was never given a host of specific details, but she and Owen spoke often, and the combination of his flippancy and Integra's ability to logic out puzzles quite easily has given her a fairly clear idea of what had gone on.
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His eyes are narrowed, his jaw tight. It's obvious to anyone that he is fiercely protective of his tea boy. Especially now, in this city, where they're out of their element and away from all of their equipment and everything that Jack associates with being safe and protected.
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There is an echo of something like personal understanding, or at least personal sympathy, resonating in the way she presents this, but it's hard to pin down; fleeting. Integra isn't the most expressive person. "What I heard more starkly was talk of the man they knew you as."
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Integra realizes she's starting to faux-idly fuss with her pen again, stops. "I haven't brought this to you with any spirit of maliciousness. It seemed uncharitable to withhold it."
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"You and me, though. We'll start from scratch," he says, shifting in his seat. "Since this is an interview to be hired by you, have at me," he says, spreading his hands in front of him. "What is it about me that you want to know?" He'll try to tell her honestly. He's not going to remain without his secrets, though.
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"What sort of work you're used to doing - specifically. Field work here is very intense." If one of her questions was going to be Can you compartmentalize like a motherfucker? It helps, at least she knows the answer now. (It wasn't going to be, but it's nice to know.) Starting anew is just fine with her.
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She thinks she'll make Jack a senior agent, and stick him in charge of a few of the general investigators. It's difficult to find people used to being in leadership positions who also have immediate field work experience.
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God, she hopes this man never does anything to his head.
"I'm hardly interested in your soul, Captain Harkness. Your leadership and fieldwork experience, however - I don't have many section chiefs, as it were, and if you'd be willing to handle a variety of calls for a while until we sort out where you're the most suited to, I think I can put you to work overseeing a few people, and getting out there and annoying some monsters."
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He sits back in his chair. "I'm gonna assume that because you're talking about putting me as a section chief, that I guess I nailed this interview, then, huh?" he asks, with a wide grin.
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Do you know what time it is now, Jack? It's more paperwork time. "Of course all our work here is confidential within the organization," she tells him as she produces things for him to fill out. "Politicians tend to hate us, and we stay as clear from the Militia as possible. I employ several non-humans, one of which has a tendency to sneak up on people for kicks, so don't take that exceptionally personally."
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"As for the rest of it, I'm used to politicians not giving a hoot about us, and I've no idea what the Militia here is like, but if it's anything close to UNIT then good riddance, as far as I'm concerned. As for non-humans, I've been traveling all over time and space. I'm pretty used to all different sorts." He shoots her a smile, walking a fine line between professional and flirty as he speaks.
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