a pale princess in a palace cracked

[suninhades]

Who: Integra Hellsing, Narcissa Malfoy, and perhaps a husband.
What: A concerned citizen contacts Integra about seeing Mr. Malfoy's wife being mugged in the forest! Oh no.
Where: Malfoy Townhouse.
When: In the wee hours of the morning after Lucius and Narcissa's mugger vs jar of moonlight deathmatch.
Notes: This takes place before Integra and Dean go looking for Mabel.
Warnings: TBA.

Four missing persons within Hellsing - Integra might be surprised there's not actually hellfire following her around the past few days if she was in the presence of mind to be more whimsical about anything. She's coming in from overseeing a captive hellspawn entity being taken in from outside when the man approaches her, timid but determined, afraid for 'that lost-looking fella's wife'. She hears the story and doesn't even bother calling anyone else. She's not heard a damn thing back from Mabel, and that's quite enough. CiD communication is apparently just not cutting it. Fine.

Wearing a black coat, hair pulled back into a high ponytail and clutching a sepia-glowing fae-lit lantern in one hand, Integra bangs ungracefully on the townhouse door, nevermind it being four in the goddamn morning. The night is inky-dark, corners curled around with fog battling the changing temperature of the season. She looks furious.

Comments

[vanities]

Expecting Lucius - so he can tell her what he thinks he's doing out 'til four in the damned morning, for starters, and she thinks she'll make him do so before she tells him about Malfoy Sr sleeping upstairs, lest it get misplaced in the chaos - Narcissa is briefly bewildered by the knock at the door, even as she rises to answer it. He wouldn't knock, she reasons, being as he has his own key and it's his own damn house, which immediately begs the question of who on Earth fancies it such a grand idea to be hammering on her door at, as noted, four in the damn morning.

The sight of the woman on the other side of the door forestalls her irritation, somewhat, and her answer is instead slightly bemused: "...Sir Hellsing. Is something-?"