my life is trapped in these lines, that's why i'm packing these nines

[suninhades]

Who: Princess Nuala, Integra Hellsing, and everyone who's made an appointment for a job interview at Hellsing.
What: Job interviews.
Where: Hellsing Guild Hall, Sobek Croix.
When: Various times after this post.
Notes: If your character has an interview just start a new thread! You may get Integra, you may get Nuala, you may get both. If you have a preference, say so in your subject line or harass one of us, we are easy to find.
Warnings: Bureaucracy?

In the midst of rising tension in the city, Hellsing is busier than usual. New blood (ha, hah) is always welcome, but especially so these days. The guild hall is perhaps oddly quiet, though it's only because most agents are out on cases. Those with appointments will be seen promptly.

Comments

[platanera.livejournal.com]

Fifteen minutes. That's how early Maggie is to this interview (or audition like the red fucked up looking dude suggested) and on the nose too. She's good at things like that even if her outfit (http://www.polyvore.com/maggie_doing_all_adult_things/set?id=36635226) is a little less than appropriate for both an interview and the environment of red and black uniforms. Hey, what can she do on that little bit of allowance she got and a last minute thrift store adventure? This is the best Maggie's got and at least she makes it work.

Well, she's not working it much at the exact moment as she sits in the hallway, bag containing her knife set and CiD--and that's pretty much all that's in there--laid across her lap. Her fingers are in her mouth as usual, biting the stubs of her nails down to the quick. Thank God her mother isn't here to slap her hand away. A lot of Maggie's bad habits are hard to break.

[cailisairgid]

Precisely fifteen minutes after she arrives, one of Princess Nuala's aides collects her for her interview - with aforementioned fey princess, who'd spoken so briefly to Maggie over the citywide. The interview will be conducted in her highness's office, Maggie is informed, and she's shown upstairs promptly.

The office in question is of a generous size, comfortably appointed; Nuala's expansive desk is toward the back of the room, nearer the large windows and backed by display cabinets. Her father's silver hand (not unlike a gauntlet in design) overlooks the desk and no doubt it would present an imposing image, but by the looks of things Nuala means to conduct their conversation at the low sofas by her fireplace. Her spinning wheel on the other side of the room is a touch of the fairytale, appropriately, however incongruous it may seem at first.

She doesn't rise when Maggie is shown in, but she does smile, setting aside the papers she'd been sifting through. "Welcome, Miss Thomas. Please, sit."

[platanera.livejournal.com]

Those fingers remain stuck firmly between Maggie's lips all the way down to Nuala's office, even as she watches the Guild Hall environment pass her by. Maggie only lets them go when she steps into Nuala's office and that's because her mouth opens in surprise, shock, and a combination of those two things. This office is probably bigger than her apartment back home, not mention the creepy hand behind the desk and the interesting spinning wheel in the corner. Maggie would like to touch that, but she suspects that hand on the wall is the hand of somebody who touched it.

Silly girl.

Nuala's smile is a little comforting, even if Maggie still finds the princess odd to look at. She still doesn't know whether she should bow or curtsy even when invited to sit, so she does both. There may be some Princesses back in Washington Heights, but they ain't no royalty.

[cailisairgid]

"You are applying to our house resources, I believe..." Nuala's manner is professional without being cold - she gives the first impression of being incapable of such coldness, lacking artifice, pleasant-natured and patient. (This isn't entirely true, but it isn't entirely false, either. Elves.) "Yes, here we are, I see. I'd like to discuss with you your previous experience...? And we will have a number of dietary requirements within the organization that we'll need to know if you can cater to."

[captainredwhiteblue]

Captain Steven G. Rogers arrives for his previously-scheduled appointment, on his best behavior. His uniform is immaculate. He's even done his best to clean up the shield strapped to his back.

He introduces himself in reception and is shown to a room to await his interview. He's offered a seat but he remains standing, back straight, willing to remain on his feet until the interviewer arrives.

[cailisairgid]

The arrival is that of an aide to escort him upstairs to, he is informed, the office of Princess Nuala; one of Hellsing's command team, she will be conducting his interview. Her office is spacious, pleasant-smelling and seems in some ways as if it's been designed that she may choose to use the surroundings to be imposing or...not, as she may prefer. For instance: she has set up a low table with the sofas that sit by the fireside, where she is keeping track of her notes for these interviews, rather than obliging new arrivals to sit opposite the large desk that her father's hand looks down on.

"Captain Rogers," she greets him, looking up without rising, pleasant. "Please; sit. I am Princess Nuala."

[captainredwhiteblue]

...Gosh, an actual princess.

It takes Steve a bit longer than one would expect to comply with her request. First there's the matter of his shield, carefully shrugged off and laid against a chair, out of the way. He sets his helmet down in the chair's seat. And then he lowers himself slowly onto the other sofa, near the fireplace, posture absolutely perfect, hands folded in his lap.

"Thank you, Princess." ...It's right to address a princess by her title, right? He has no idea. He hopes he doesn't mess this up before the interview even starts.

A faint smile turns his lips but he remains silent, because, honestly, you do not rush a princess. She'll begin when she's ready.

[cailisairgid]

Her smile is approving as she sets her notes aside for the moment, so presumably he hasn't made any gross missteps. "Sir Hellsing will be joining us to discuss the nature of our field work with you," she says, smoothly, "but as I wished to discuss your fundraising background, we've aligned our schedules accordingly. Would you tell me more about what you've done previously?"

[captaincocksure]

Jim's never been a fan of the gold uniforms given to command officers. It's not a flattering color, especially not on someone with his coloring, but it does what it needs to. It draws attention.

He's very aware of eyes on him as he makes his way to the Guild Hall, his uniform freshly laundered and pressed, face cleanly shaven, not a hair out of place. He too makes his way to reception and is shown into a room where he will be interviewed. This captain chooses to sit, PADD and CiD neatly stacked to his right, near the corner of the table, good posture, hands folded on the table.

[suninhades]

Very few people look good in that (or any) particular shade of mustard; Jim at least manages to not look horrifying.

An assistant comes and goes to check that he's is there, and she offers him something to drink (water or coffee), before she all but blinks out of existence and Integra arrives, dressed formally. "Captain Kirk," she greets, gloved hand extended to shake his - while not appearing particularly cheerful, there's at least nothing about her that says she's displeased. "Thank you for coming."

[captaincocksure]

Jim has politely refused the offer of drink; it wouldn't do to have a mishap and wind up soaking wet or reeking of coffee right before an interview.

He rises to his feet as Integra extends a hand, shaking it, a firm, confident grip but not one that seeks to dominate or intimidate. "Sir Hellsing. Thank you for having me. I appreciate the opportunity to speak with you in person."

He remains standing, and will do so until told otherwise.

[suninhades]

"Of course. Please, sit down." She takes her own seat, unhurried but precise, and opens a manila file folder. "Considering the newness of your presence here and the limited resources we all have, your submitted files are somewhat impressive," she tells him. "I believe I received all of them - your own resume, and a recommendation on behalf of a Dr. McCoy?"

[kiss_evilgoodbye]

Buffy arrives for her interview, dressed in her normal patrolling gear, but a little nicer. This is still an interview, as far as she's concerned, and she still wants to look presentable.

She also has her scythe. If anything is needed to prove she's a bonafide vampire Slayer, that's it.

She makes her way into the into the Hellsing building, just looking around and getting a feel for the place. It's a pretty nice set up, something she hasn't seen before, and there's a part of her that's a little excited for this. This could be really good for her.

When she arrives at the interview room, she gives her name, and then has a seat to wait. Here goes nothing.

[suninhades]

The aide who greets Buffy and shows her into Integra's office gives the scythe a bit of an intense side-eye, but lets it go without objection. Everyone in the guild hall is wearing sharp black suits and red ties, but they're clearly cleric staff, moving about with focused diligence. (The atmosphere in the city means that field agents are out and phones are ringing, constantly.)

When Integra arrives, she seems a little rushed but calm despite it, and moves to greet Buffy first of all. "Ms Summers, thank you for coming. I hope you weren't waiting long."

[kiss_evilgoodbye]

"Not at all. I was just getting used to the place. You have really nice digs."

It reminds her a bit of her old castle in Scotland, but less with the feeling like she had to be General Buffy all the time. It is homey. She could do with a bit of homey, even if she wouldn't actually be living there.

[suninhades]

Her smile is faint and brief, but present - "Thank you." Renovations of certain areas are still underway, but that's hardly relevant to Buffy at this immediate moment. "Please, sit down." Integra gestures to the chair before her desk, and moves to take her own seat behind it.

"I imagine this sort of organization isn't something you're used to seeing."

[payglorytoashes.livejournal.com]

Precisely on time, with no indication he needed at any juncture to hurry, Rodolphus moves into the guild hall not quite silently. He looks much the same as he did when he went on the eel-chopping cruise, dressed in dark, simple clothes, charcoal gray beneath an open black robe, gloves and a typically blank expression. His gaze travels the hall without much indication that he's really taking in what he's seeing, though he is; it's just not anything he cares about, except in terms of their significance in regards to defense or offence.

As he is on time, he does not bother sitting, even if the wait should stretch on.

[cailisairgid]

The wait is mercifully brief, considering Rodolphus' disdain for things like 'being comfortable'; one of Princess Nuala's aides is down promptly a few minutes later, looking only barely as though they'd been in a hurry, to escort him upstairs to her generously-appointed office. As with other interviews, the Princess herself is seated by the fireplace when he's shown in, a low table set up with her necessary papers and a seat opposite her that is more welcoming than speaking across her grand desk at the back of the room.

Rodolphus may be one of the few who come in here with the potential to recognize what King Balor's hand is, in its locked display case.

"Mr Lestrange," she greets him, without rising. "Please; sit."

[payglorytoashes.livejournal.com]

His own greeting is limited to a polite incline of the head as he sits, back straight, and while the sweep of his gaze certainly took in the locked display case, no recognition registers on his face. He doesn't care to come to conclusions without a closer examination, and this is not the time. Perhaps a beat longer than someone naturally inclined to talk would have started, Rodolphus says, "Thank you for meeting me."

It's not that it sounds insincere, but it is decidedly perfunctory. He cannot guess Nuala's species, nor her preferences, just yet, but he can at least meet minimal conversational requirements.

[aviophobia]

Leonard McCoy arrives ten minutes before his interview, Starfleet uniform freshly laundered and pressed, face carefully shaved, hair gelled neatly into place. He waits in the reception area quietly, and his hand rests lightly on his medkit, still hanging on a strap over his shoulder. He's brought it so he can demonstrate the kind of tech he can bring to Hellsing; how he'll be a good resource for them.

After nine minutes have elapsed, he's shown into a room where he'll be interviewed, but he remains standing. It won't do to sit before the interviewer does.

[suninhades]

Following behind him (intentionally unobtrusively, at first) is a tall woman in a black suit with long pale hair - she steps around him and puts down a file folder on the desk before extending one gloved hand to greet him. "Dr. McCoy, I presume. Integra Hellsing. Please, sit down, we have a few minute before Princess Nuala joins us."

Seeing as this man will be medical staff, both the heads of the organization need to speak with him in some capacity - not everyone is who works at Hellsing is human, after all, and Integra isn't as impactful at highlighting that reality as the elven princess is. "I received quite the glowing recommendation on your behalf from a Captain Kirk," she says, taking her seat. "I understand that you're boarding with Sir Martel as well?"

[aviophobia]

The sudden appearance of the woman he'd spoken to earlier startles him, and he can't help a slight jerk of surprise and a brief widening of his eyes that he can't entirely cover up. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Sir Hellsing," he replies, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. (Jim's done his research, and he's benefited.) "Thank you." He sits, careful to maintain his good posture and professional bearing.

At her question, he nods. "That's right, Sir. Sir Martel was kind enough to open his home to Captain Kirk and myself shortly after our arrival, and he's been an excellent host." He hopes she likes Martel and that he hasn't just blown his job interview by gushing about him to his worst enemy or something.

[rose-obfuscated.livejournal.com]

Brie arrives five minutes before her scheduled interview. She had been hesitant to inquire about Hellsing, but interest overwhelmed her. Anna seems to enjoy it and the organization's interest in fighting evil aligned with her identity as an Amazon.

How long has it been, really, since I've actually had to apply for something? At least in this city, they don't grab the first competent person they see and name her Sheriff.

[suninhades]

Brie is shown into an office promptly on time; it's old-world European in decor, formal and lacking in any odds and ends that might betray the personality of the occupant. Said occupant is facing away, at present, looking out the back window and radiating something like restlessness - days of being cooped up for interviews and trying to stay abreast of the growing tension in the city has left her irritated. Integra turns when Brie is shown in, expression unreadable and ever-serious.

"Ms Cormac," she greets, and extends one gloved hand over her desk. She's tall, wearing a black suit and wire-rimmed glasses, striking in her stature but not particularly pretty, otherwise. "Sir Integra Hellsing. Thank you for coming, please sit down."

[rose-obfuscated.livejournal.com]

"It's a pleasure to meet you." She thought about adding "Ms. Hellsing" or "Sir" but wasn't sure which would be appropriate.

Brie shakes her hand firmly and sits in the chair, taking in the details of the person in front of her. She can already tell that Integra is authoritative and professional. The lack of personal affects in the room means she's also private. Looks like someone who gets down to business.

Brie herself has beautiful red curls and a definitive Irish look to her features. She's also strikingly beautiful.