resonance

[wandandsickle]

Who: Jones and Nuala
What: A meeting of two sorceresses.
Where: The Hellsing Guild Hall
When: Misdi afternoon.
Warnings: None.

Jones has finally gotten around to getting herself in Nuala's appointments, and approaches the meeting at the Hellsing Guild Hall with a bit of excitement.  Although she doesn't really even know much about the other woman, and that would normally make her take a more cautious approach, it'll be a relief to get to chat with someone who understands magic properly again.  (And isn't a vampire.  She's got nothing against vampires; it's just it gets a little weird when vampires comprise most of one's social circle.)

She heads into what looks like a lobby to announce her arrival.

Comments

[wandandsickle]

Jones offers a hand to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person." (Handshaking is more of a reflex; she won't be offended if Nuala declines. When you're dealing with people from other universes, she figures customs could get strange, and Nuala certainly has something inhuman about her.)

The room is almost a breath of fresh air; Baedal itself has plenty of magic in it, although it's strange, foreign magic as Jones senses it. Here it feels much more of what she's accustomed to—all bright and gold and warm—and she has to smile a bit at seeing the spinning wheel, both as a craftsperson and as a magical craftsperson. (Jones herself favors the drop spindle; seeing the wheel here reminds her that it'd be nice to have one here.) "So, do you weave, sew, knit...?"

[cailisairgid]

With a brief hesitation, Nuala does not decline; shaking hands is unfamiliar, and her grip is light and brief, but she consents to it. Her touch carries with it an impression of her presence - a princess of the fae, child of a goddess, she does not lock her essence behind shields for she has never needed to - but it is brief and (hopefully) not overwhelming. She is as ancient as she is youthful, her smile engaging as they sit.

"I have no loom to weave with, here-" though she could, if she did, "-so it is sewing, for me. You have seen the badges of our agents, no doubt." The silver stitching that picks out an enchantment, a metaphysical suggestion that these individuals have the biggest balls on the block. It's more psychological than a true ward, but every little bit counts.

(They have other uses, too, but that's what's most obvious to the sensitive.)

[wandandsickle]

"Oh, I have! That's all your work?" Color her impressed. From what she's seen of them, they're quite well-made, and it takes a great amount of skill to impress Jones in this particular field. "I suppose we've got sewing in common, then. That's a useful imbuement, too. I've never been much good at Mind magic, but I know good work when I see it."

The feeling transmitted through the handshake gives her a moment of pause; she's clearly dealing with a person (?) of power here. Jones isn't quite sure what precisely she is (and feels it would be rather impolite to ask), but there's a certain measure of additional respect. She's reasonably certain that it takes more than birthright to exude that sort of power; there's a finesse there.

[cailisairgid]

"I replaced the simpler versions upon my arrival," with an acknowledging nod, clearly pleased by Jones's admiration of her skill; she isn't without fae ego. It had been a mercy, though, and Integra had understood implicitly her need for busy-work, for something to occupy her mind so that the ache of an absence wouldn't. "It's a small thing, but I prefer they have it. Will you have tea?" And tell her about what you do? Her interest is genuine, as is her warmth; the local powers were grateful for her in alternative to dealing directly with Integra, but they're smart enough not to think sweeter means less dangerous.

Most of them. The others will, likely, learn.

[wandandsickle]

Jones gives a warm smile. "Seamstressing was my first real trade, before I learned magic," she says, fondly. "And I would love a cup of tea, thank you."

She runs her fingers idly against the grain of the wood of her chair; the motion of someone used to being busy. "I suppose I should say a bit about myself. It seems to be a bit of a toss-up here, whether someone'll be familiar with where you're from, but if it means anything, I'm most recently from Chicago, United States, 1932, though I was born in another country. Same place and time as Mina, I suppose I could say, since I gather you've already met her."

[cailisairgid]

Nuala tends the tea herself, as a proper hostess; hers is quite bitter, but there's honey and cream and lumps of sugar all there if Jones would like one or the other.

"I have travelled through the United States," she says, smiling, "and I do remember the 1930s, as your kind reckon, though I confess I have had little to do with men until such time as I joined with Hellsing." It isn't the same calendar that hers keep to, but then, the calendar here is different again, too. She's willing to make these adjustments and to keep track of of the differences.

"I'm afraid I haven't met your Dr Barrett for myself," she amends, offering the cup. "But yes, I am familiar."

[wandandsickle]

It takes her a moment to figure out quite what Nuala means by men—she didn't know any men at all? That's strange— Oh, right. Not human.

Jones takes the tea, though doesn't add anything to it; she's used to drinking it plain and black. "How did you end up working with Hellsing, if you don't mind telling the story?" she asks, taking a sip.

[cailisairgid]

With a smile over the rim of her teacup, Nuala inclines her head - of course she'd be happy to. Her connections with Hellsing have been a blessing, in truth, and it has forged her great friendships as well as offering her an opportunity to flex her political muscles independently and see for herself how well she might do. It is not only her father she looks to as an example, but Integra now, as well; the blending of styles and her own diamond-hard backbone create something she finds herself terribly proud of.

"Before Baedal, I went by design to what is called the city of sin," she says, sipping her tea. "An act of desperation, in the hopes of preventing a great ill in my own world." It worked. She thinks. She wishes she knew where Nuada had got to when they left- "Of course, acting as I had, I'd no notion of what manner of city I had truly come to - it was, truthfully, far more human than I might've anticipated of such a place." She'd been a bit disconcerted by that, frankly. "Sir Hellsing had only recently arrived there herself, and Alucard; she came to my assistance. I am, after a fashion, a princess of what men call Ireland, so I gather she saw it as only her duty."

Nuala's fondness for both Integra and Alucard is readily apparent - only Nuada is closer to her heart, lately. "I joined them gladly, and when Sir Hellsing began to plan a branch of her organization in that city, I committed myself as well and joined her as a member of the command structure. We did, I think, good work - I was more pleased than I can say to find them here again and my office awaiting me."

[wandandsickle]

"A City of Sin?" Jones looks moderately worried about the concept. "That sounds... interesting..." She's not really sure what to think about there being a City of Sin. If there was one, she'd have thought it was Chicago. "It is good to have familiar faces in a strange place, though," she says. "I myself was lucky enough to have two... acquaintances already here when I arrived. I don't know if you know Anna Demirovna...?"

[cailisairgid]

The taint of that city was a strange, intoxicating, painful and confusing experience; Bete Noire corrupted magic, and at her purest essence, Nuala like all fae is magic. It had sunk into and twisted parts of her she didn't recognize, and she gladly leaves that topic behind to focus on the more pleasant subject of her student.

"But of course I do- she came to me for help, and I give it to her gladly." Her smile is warm, and it's as though the room warms with it for a moment, in this place that belongs to her. She doesn't specify the precise nature of that help, not when she understands so well the secrecy of vampires and knows so little of Jones' connection, but it's clear enough that it pleases her to do. The twinned natures within Anna are strange to Nuala, but so too are they beautiful - if they could be coaxed into peace, to let her thrive, that would be the most wonderful of things. Accordingly, her clear affection has a maternal edge to it, as she adds, "She is most dear to me. How did you know her?"

[wandandsickle]

"It's a little bit of a long story," says Jones, a little sheepish. "Well—you know what she is, I figure, if she came to you for help about the Huntress thing. About a year or so back, I was actually posing as a vampire myself as part of an attempt to hunt down another mage who'd been stealing souls." She sighs. "Then it got a lot more complicated, of course. I'm not sure why I didn't expect it to in the first place."

She laughs. "It's a bit funny. Anna and I ought to be about the same age, by my reckoning, but I tend to think of her as a bit of a younger sister. Maybe because she reminds me a little bit of my real one. I helped her along, a little, when she first... erm... received the Huntress—no one else would talk to her, and I know how hard that kind of transition can be, so..."

[cailisairgid]

"Hers is a unique situation," Nuala says, half-smiling, relaxing somewhat at this explanation, Jones's familiarity; it's easier to take someone's word when one happens to be a psychic. It isn't impossible to lie to her, but it is very, very difficult. "I've never seen the power of my people blended with a vampire before - I might not have thought it possible." Though she certainly has a place in her heart for their kind; her fondness for Alucard is also of a motherly nature, and make of that what you will.

(It does suggest interesting things about the fae of her world, to say the least.)

"But she is so very young. I see a great potential in her- I hope to have a hand in guiding her to its realization."

[wandandsickle]

"I've really just started assuming that anything is possible at this point," says Jones, wryly. "And I'm glad she has your guidance—my experience only goes so far. She's a sweetheart, really, and I'd hate to see her crash and burn."