"We have been at meetings at a rather uninteresting location of Island’s choosing."
//Uni can eat people alive, man, and it starts today.
"Sam." Relief floods her features, motions for the woman to take a seat. "You have wonderful timing. I had a bit of a…rather amateur question to ask of you."
I feel like this should be in order, because I’m not the best of reminding and pinging and posting so people think im a total bitch and am selective.
I get it. You can stop sending me stuff now when I haven’t been on. I know I owe replies. I know I am not consistent.
I’m moving into college tomorrow, and will make the effort along with a closer friend to be more active and, perhaps, do some silly Hellsing-relevant cosplay and—
She had just arrived to England from America, wondering who sent her a telegram to come here. The hybrid shrugged and walked out of the train station and into the crisp, night air. Pulling out the telegram-who send things like this anymore?-and followed the address towards a huge mansion. “What does a rich person want with me?” she asked herself as she pressed the button. “Someone sent a telegram to America that wanted to see me?” she said in the speaker.
She’s told that an American’s arrived to talk business and for a moment she breathes and thinks of an old friend, whose been MIA for the past few months. The soldiers meet the woman at the gate, opening them and escorting her to the front doors.
The elder woman is greeted to a child with a lollipop stick in place of what would be a cigar when Walter will let her smoke them. She pulls a strand of blonde behind her ear and stares up at the elder woman. “I am presuming you’re the American contact, then, if you received the telegram.” Her shadow wavers for a second, and briefly eight eyes open and close, their irises red as rubies.
"…At least they were content with me in them for as long as I had been." Is the bitten retort back. Perhaps she is becoming a bit of a recluse, staying in while her men do everything. She vows that when she turns fourteen she will start by learning everything proper. Her eyes, though, drift to photographs on her shelves, pictures of all her friends, and she has to get the anon escorted out quickly before the memories return too strong for her to quell them.
The mercenary’s smile faltered; replaced by an apologetic look of regret. “I know…” she whispered. Her shoulders slumped and she padded forwards over the grass; stopping a foot or two away from the young Hellsing. “I’m sorry, Integral. I really am. The Vatican’s been keeping me busy and I haven’t had the money to come visit.”
Her reasons felt lame on her tongue. What excuse could anyone have for not even bothering to visit the girl they considered their daughter? She should have tried harder; she should have found a way to come sooner than this. Damn it, she should have at least called now and then. But Wolfin hadn’t. She hadn’t done any of that. “I could have at least called or something. I’m so sorry, kiddo.”
Integral takes in a deep, but shaking breath as Wolfin approaches. So many tormented feelings…and she remembers that Alucard had warned her of this. He had warned her that one day she’d be torn in two because she was okay with someone being on both sides of the coin.
"At…least…you’re happy there, right?" She knows its a stupid question to ask—of course she’s happy there, look at how she looks now, and for a minute the blonde wonders if that’s true. Perhaps Wolfin does what she does on the occasion; stare out the window and mourn the past that she had to leave behind. Surely the brunette hadn’t forgotten her during her time away! “I’m sure you hadn’t called…because you were on missions that you needed not to to stay safe.” She reasons as logically as a child with a cracked heart can, her facade up and that smiled mask upon her face. “Do you want anything to drink? Something to eat? Unless you..have somewhere to be.”
"…" Staring out the window, daydreaming. Perhaps she should walk around town, get better information for this report she has to write….
Finds herself in town within the hour, a weight lifted off her shoulders. Its vacation time for most of Britain’s citizens. Perhaps she can get away with…acting normal? Like a proper twelve year old should? It sounds ludicrous to her but she’s gonna put the effort in, and it starts with a little spring in her step, leaving her guards at the rendezvous point and her weapon hooked up beneath the jacket, just in case.
It had been a while since Wolfin had visited the Hellsing manor. The Vatican’s missions kept her busy and her lack of funds kept her from traveling long distances unless she went entirely on foot. But she had finally gotten a chance to stop by to see how things were going. The mercenary hadn’t gone inside yet, knowing that Walter would throw a fit if she trotted in with her hands and feet covered in dirt like they were currently. It wasn’t her fault that she liked being outside.
Wolfin meandered through the grounds and watched as the sun finally sank below the horizon; her eyes reflecting the last gleam of light like a nocturnal animal. Her keen nose suddenly picked up a familiar scent and she stepped out of the trees, a warm smile on her face at the sight of Integral. “Been a while, yeah?”
When the dark shape appeared from the trees, for a moment she didn’t recognize her. Wolfin was…different. She wasn’t wearing shoes, she was covered in dirt, but she seemed so…so happy. So very, very happy.
If you love someone so much, sometimes you have to let things go.
She shook the thought from her head, taking one step, than another, stopping just out of range, taking in the familiar yet new features that graced the woman before her. “Wolfin….” It was obvious she was holding back new emotions—she was thirteen now, she couldn’t cry—
Yet her eyes gained a gloss to them and rapidly she blinked back tears behind her glasses. “Too long. You never checked in. I thought…”
I thought you dead.