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

[suninhades]

"If you'd like to get it overwith," she says, and points at various bits on the papers, explaining as she goes - it's actually quite minimal, mainly sorting payment and confidentiality. The rest is information on what businesses in Sobek Croix offer Hellsing employees discounts, notes about what gods Nuala's chosen to patronize on their behalf (Integra doesn't understand any of that and chooses to ignore it), and so on.

"I've time to give you a brief tour, if you'd like, but as we're in prime operating hours at present you may have to take a joke with my attention span."

[51stcentury]

"Might as well," Jack says, before picking up a pen and going through the paperwork with her, signing and filling out all the necessary parts with a neat and legible hand. He had to live through the 20th century after all, you bet his hand writing's fabulous.

When they finish, Jack caps his pen and hands her the paperwork back and cocks a grin at her. "If you wouldn't mind, a tour would be lovely. Nice to know what sort of a facility I'm getting myself into signing up for this place, you know?"

[suninhades]

Integra tidies her desk back up while he writes, and then takes the papers and sticks them in what amounts to her 'in' box. (Nobody likes paperwork. It's miserable. But she takes her job seriously and obsessively enough to be good at it anyway. Sigh.) She pulls a small silver pin - shaped a bit like a shield - out of her desk drawer, and comes around to stand in front of him.

"I have to put this on you manually," she explains, and holds it up in the direction of his jacket lapel, if he doesn't mind. "It's charmed not to work if anyone else does it; it's a pass through the wards. Princess Nuala makes individual ones for employees now that she's returned, so you can look forward to not bothering with this, as soon as she's had time."

[51stcentury]

Jack gestures for her to go ahead and put it on his jacket for him. It's going to be a pain to get it through the thick material, but it's the only thing that he ever wears on a daily basis, so it's going to have to be put there no matter what. "Wards, huh," he says, idly. "As in magic wards then...?" It sounds clear from his tone of voice that the concept of magic and the likes being real is a definite new thing for him. Where he came from, after all, there is no magic that he's aware of, and the supernatural is usually explainable by aliens or science of some sort. Still, he's got enough experience with the unknown that he doesn't question it at all.

[suninhades]

It's fine; Integra has sturdy hands, and she's used to much stronger opponents than thick wool and lining. Once that's attached, she leads him out of her office, and begins the trek through the medieval structure. It's clearly been retrofitted to be compatible with (relatively) modern amenities, and while some parts are more put together than others, much of the has only been reconstructed to functional levels.

"Hermetic, as is my family's specialty," she confirms, "Along with Fae magic courtesy of the Princess, and some other ingenious contributions from a handful of particularly gifted employees."

She points out the door to the basement, and a narrow, spiral stone stairwell that leads from the second floor to the inner courtyard. (There's a less nerve-wracking exit on the other end of the building.) "We don't have a tech staff, as specialists of that nature here are rare, and with the raw material situation making it very difficult to remain well-stocked on firearms and ammunition, it's a necessity to be creative with our armaments." Thus, magic.

[51stcentury]

"No tech staff, huh..." Jack's a little surprised at that, considering the background he's coming from. Torchwood was rather tech heavy and tech savvy. He doesn't know quite what to make of it, in all honesty. "You guys don't have anyone that might be on some sort of tech staff for this place, then?"

[suninhades]

"Some of my aids can work things well enough - better than I can - but it's been a difficult track. It's not a trade often taught, here, due to the resource situation. Besides the CiDs, which some people go so far as to claim to be gifts from the gods," and she is clearly dubious about that, "Technology is notably inconsistent. But we've supplemented with magic, because we've had to."

Being from 1999, Integra hadn't switched Hellsing at home over from paper archives quite yet, even - the technology she's most familiar with is the sort that comes in the form of anti-aircraft missiles. "We've stockpiled everything we've come across, however, in the event we ever end up with a functioning department of that nature." In fact, she takes a detour, then, to head down to a secure room near the armory so she can show him the tech graveyard (for lack of a better word).

Dead laptops, micro chips, compact particle accelerators, broken things not of Earth - a plethora of bits and pieces, laid out on shelves, neatly ordered. She fusses with a lightbulb to get the room illuminated. It's organized, if clearly disused. "We could probably sell a lot of this for petty cash, but I've had them hang on to anything that looked useful. If you can make anything of what's in here..." she shrugs. Have at it, Jack. "Power supplies and replacement parts are a huge issue, here. Just like bullets."

[51stcentury]

Jack makes a note of where this room is and how organized it is as well (hopefully they'll have someone coming in every once and a while to tidy up after him, because he's never been so great at putting things back where they came from). He could definitely use some of these things to make other things. The power supplies bit is going to be a little hard, though. He'll see what he can do.

"Yeah, I've noticed that about the tech here. It's kinda behind the times, even by 21st century standards. I'll see what I can make from this, though." He grins at her. "I went to military school in the 51st century. I'm pretty sure I might be able to swing a few things out of whatever you've got in here, given that you've got the right parts. Repair's going to be a bit more tricky, though..." That is, when he's not throwing himself out into the field. Which will happen often.