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Who: Jones and Mina Barett
What: Having The [Jones is Not a Vampire] Talk
Where: Jones's room, the Valhalla Inn
When: Givdi night
Warnings: None, yet

This may have been a terrible idea. For all she knows, Barrett is in a fighting mood, and this is going to end messily for one or the both of them.

Then again, a significant amount of the fault here lies on her own shoulders, and, well—she can't really blame Barrett for having the reaction that she did. And she really would prefer to at least be on amicable terms for the time being, since they seem to be stuck here together, for better or for worse. So she sits cross-legged on her bed, and waits for the knock on the door.

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"Yeah, we were sort-of backing the Queen, since Anna made her agree to keep the city as-is," says Jones. Which the Queen had kept. Sort of, at least. Jones herself rather liked the weather in the Queen's realm, so she couldn't really bring herself to mind. "But anyway, Veronica's even gotten herself a bit of a beau in the meantime, so she's doing quite well."

And while they were having more amicable conversation, there was something she'd been meaning to ask about—"Say, you mentioned some people called 'Hellsing' before, didn't you? I've been hearing about them around, but I was curious what you knew about them.

"...you said you didn't trust them?"

Ah, yes. The Hellsing people. Mina was fairly certain Anna had already gotten into bed with them and she had little doubt that Jones would eventually do the same. She supposed she couldn't blame either of them. Both of them had something to gain from those people. Anna needed help controlling that bit of Fae inside of her. And Jones had a curiosity that could be satisfied working for them. Mina was the outsider on this one. All she had gotten from Hellsing, so far, was a handful of very insulting epitaphs and a headache.

"I don't trust any organization," she said carefully, "which keeps lists. I feel as if I'm being watched. And they certainly can't be trusted to keep secrets. Not two days after I met with their leader, I had a lecherous little maggot throwing barbs at me regarding my undead status. I've been on the outs with them ever since. Which was ironic, since they were offering me a job. Unfortunately, they're not as good at offering apologies. I may not be in command here, but I am owed more respect than to be called a British ice queen who ought to be fucked." Mina cleared her throat delicately. "Pardon my language."

It occurred to her how easy it would be to twist and manipulate Jones' emotions. She could easily point out that they were akin to certain individuals who kept lists of communists. But Mina didn't want to be manipulative. Certainly not with a mage and certainly not with one who had been kind to her friends in the past. Jones could make her own decisions about Hellsing. Mina just hoped her decisions wouldn't leave her adrift and completely friendless.

"No offense taken," says Jones, mildly—she knows plenty of people who've worked the docks, and has picked up a certain number of interesting words from then that would make most people's hair stand on end.

"Although if you happen to have a description or a name for this... person... I'd be happy to help make life more, aha, interesting for him. That's a hell of a thing to say to a woman." She sighs. "In any case, color me forewarned."

"His name is Rejean Sept-Heure and I'd probably advise staying away from him," Mina said with a bit of a sigh. "He's Kindred, although I don't know what kind and frankly, I don't care to know. Clearly one who wasn't hugged enough as a child."

God knew there were plenty of those to go around. Those were the ones who generally became the serial killers, the Masquerade breachers, the Lancae Sanctum.

"Anyway, that's my two cents on the Hellsing people. Approach with caution. They're not my enemies...but I'm not sure I would count them as my friends either."

"Right, well. Thanks for the heads-up, anyway." Jones gives a dry chuckle. "God, and I thought nothing could top the weirdness in Chicago. Tempting fate, I suppose."

She gives Barrett a small smile. "Look, I know all of this has... well, undermined my trustworthiness considerably, and I'd like to fix that. I don't know if at this point we can start over from square one, but if there's anything I can do for you... lemme know, all right?"

Mina paused to consider the offer for a moment. "Well," she said slowly, "I could use your help in building something." She leaned against the wall, facing Jones. She was about to take an enormous risk. The type that all vampiric neonates were warned against. But unless someone trusted someone else, they could all one day become single targets.

"I want to build a clinic. And a haven."

"Build a—"

Oh, now Jones's language is being spoken. "Ooh, well, as long as we've got a place to build it—I wonder what kind of building materials they have here? If it's sort-of the future, it must be pretty great! If I can just get some hands on some tools—I can probably look up the guy who said he could lend me a soldering iron, he looked like he had lots of tools—"

Mina was pleased to see Jones' youthful enthusiasm. It was refreshing, a bit of a reminder of her own younger days when she thought she could conquer the world. "I do have someplace in mind. For the clinic, anyway. The corner where I set up my first aid station seems appropriate. It's a bit of a hike to any hospitals, but within reach of those Hellsing people, for supernatural situations. I'll be happy to show it to you tomorrow night, if you're interested in the project."

She paused a moment. "Unlike Dr. M and Dr. Brown, I actually am a medical doctor. It doesn't come up much around court, I suppose. No one really takes me seriously there." Which was just the way she liked it, truth be told. "But if we're going to be stuck here, I think I'd prefer a quiet practice to all the politics."

"Of course I'm interested! Tomorrow night should be fine—although I'll have to do some research first. I'm a more proficient mechanist than I am an architect, after all."

She has to resist the impulse to pull out her notebook and start scribbling schematics. Oh—screw it, she's doing it anyway. "I understand the feeling, myself. Social standing and that kind of politicking has never really been my cup of tea. How large a space are you imagining, and what would you need to fit in it? I presume your haven would be underground, so we'd want a basement..."

Mina rarely used the word 'cute' but at the moment, she decided, it definitely applied. Jones was just so...young. Frankly, as Mina thought about it, she had never been that young. Of course, her childhood had been a masquerade of a different kind from Jones'. In a much, much harsher period of human history. Still, she felt a slight pang of jealousy for an instant or two.

"Yes. A basement. Perhaps an attic too, for storage. A triage or waiting room. Two doctor's offices. A few private examination rooms. And, if possible, an operating room that can be somehow sterilized." This was not going to be a small project. That, however, suited Mina just fine. She never did anything small.

"I was thinking of calling it the Mary Read Clinic. After the hospital in Chicago."

"A little piece of Chicago, right here in Baedal." Jones smiles, though there's something distant in her expression. Homesick, maybe. "I like it."

She yawns. "Well, I'm not nocturnal, despite lots of evidence to the contrary, and I should probably get some sleep for tomorrow, because I'm going to be busy at the library. And I'm sure you've got better things to do with your night than listen to me natter about building plans, so tomorrow night it is for checking out the site?"

"Tomorrow night it is," Mina said with a bit of a nod. The evening had been emotionally draining so far. It was probably best for them to part ways. They both needed time to think, time to heal. And despite the way the conversation had gone, Mina knew she wasn't completely blameless. Trust was a two-way street, she supposed.

Of course, none of her lies had ever harmed Jones much.

"Goodnight, Jones." She started to the door, but stopped, looking back over her shoulder. "Tell me one thing. What is your first name?"

Pause. "Just so you know exactly what you're asking," says Jones, slowly, "there are precisely seven people currently living who know my real name.

"It's not something mages give out lightly. In the wrong hands, it could be used to strike at me anywhere, anytime. So," she finishes, "you understand why I hesitate."

"I understand," Mina said.

And nothing else. It was up to Jones, where she wanted to go from here. Frankly, Mina wasn't going to press the issue. But her curiosity was screaming at the moment. An old failing, to be certain. One she could never quite quell.

And it has been such a long time since someone called her—"Valerija," she says, looking away. "It's Valerija. Val, if you like."

She looks Barrett in the eye, with a bit of a wry smile. "I don't think you'll abuse it. Just, please—know what this means."

Mina nodded. Valerija. It suited her somehow. Properly exotic, but with a touch of...magic. Yes. It was a magical name. "You'll always be Jones to me," Mina said gently.

She turned around and started to walk out, thinking about the name. Valerija. Valerija. It was actually quite beautiful. Like the female form. Hidden and secretive, which made it all the more appealing.

Pausing by the door, Mina turned to look back once more. "Mine is Mary," she said.

Mary... Jones nods. She's made the right decision. "G'night... Mina."

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