(no subject)
Who: Alucard (alucloset) and Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing (integrability)
What: Christmas presents! and a chat.
When: Christmas day~
Where: Integra's room
Rating: A+! Or.... should be PG, PG-13.
As he made his way toward his master's room (his new master, the one Abel wanted to meet, the one he didn't remember), Alucard didn't balk, or hesitate, mope or moon, or any of that other sentimental nonsense that heroes did in novels. No, he strode up to her door, and stared at the plaque over it (imagining it empty and smooth sent a shudder through him, sourcing from somewhere strange and unknown within). Then, with the barest motion of uncertainty, he knocked soundly on her door.
While waiting for a response (he knew she was there, intimately, as he knew where his gun was), he looked down into a pocket at the tidily-wrapped present tucked inside. He'd always liked dark green for Christmas wrappings, he decided. So very vital-looking, green, especially in the depths of winter.
What: Christmas presents! and a chat.
When: Christmas day~
Where: Integra's room
Rating: A+! Or.... should be PG, PG-13.
As he made his way toward his master's room (his new master, the one Abel wanted to meet, the one he didn't remember), Alucard didn't balk, or hesitate, mope or moon, or any of that other sentimental nonsense that heroes did in novels. No, he strode up to her door, and stared at the plaque over it (imagining it empty and smooth sent a shudder through him, sourcing from somewhere strange and unknown within). Then, with the barest motion of uncertainty, he knocked soundly on her door.
While waiting for a response (he knew she was there, intimately, as he knew where his gun was), he looked down into a pocket at the tidily-wrapped present tucked inside. He'd always liked dark green for Christmas wrappings, he decided. So very vital-looking, green, especially in the depths of winter.