New Drabble
Title: Five Forty-Five
Summary: "Walter C. Dornez woke up at precisely 5.45. That he made sure of."
Fandom: Hellsing
Word Count: Double drabble
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: N/A
A/N: This is sort of an AU. Doesn't take place at any certain time, just during the time in which Walter serves Integra. More of a character study on Walter than anything. I think I like it though.
Walter C. Dornez woke up at precisely 5.45. That he made sure of. He stretched, more out of habit than necessity. He opened his wardrobe. Walter chose a freshly pressed shirt and meticulously pressed pants, just like every morning. He dressed quickly, his every movement practiced and efficient.
Walter carefully buttoned his waistcoat, just as he had every morning for as long as he could remember. He fastened his sleeve garters, pulled on and buttoned his gloves. He checked his ponytail once more. Not a hair out of place. He smiled to himself.
He turned his head to the side and fingered two fresh puncture wounds in his neck.
“You know,” Alucard told him just after he’d finished his first meal of blood, “you can heal those.”
But they remained. It was one failing of Alucard- his master’s. Walter had learned about vampires very young, and it was his firm assertion that proper midians should have their marks. Sort of like the brand of Cain, he thought with a bemused smile.
Walter C. Dornez clipped his monocle to the bridge of his nose. There. His daily ministrations were done. He was now ready to serve the master of his master.
Summary: "Walter C. Dornez woke up at precisely 5.45. That he made sure of."
Fandom: Hellsing
Word Count: Double drabble
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: N/A
A/N: This is sort of an AU. Doesn't take place at any certain time, just during the time in which Walter serves Integra. More of a character study on Walter than anything. I think I like it though.
Walter C. Dornez woke up at precisely 5.45. That he made sure of. He stretched, more out of habit than necessity. He opened his wardrobe. Walter chose a freshly pressed shirt and meticulously pressed pants, just like every morning. He dressed quickly, his every movement practiced and efficient.
Walter carefully buttoned his waistcoat, just as he had every morning for as long as he could remember. He fastened his sleeve garters, pulled on and buttoned his gloves. He checked his ponytail once more. Not a hair out of place. He smiled to himself.
He turned his head to the side and fingered two fresh puncture wounds in his neck.
“You know,” Alucard told him just after he’d finished his first meal of blood, “you can heal those.”
But they remained. It was one failing of Alucard- his master’s. Walter had learned about vampires very young, and it was his firm assertion that proper midians should have their marks. Sort of like the brand of Cain, he thought with a bemused smile.
Walter C. Dornez clipped his monocle to the bridge of his nose. There. His daily ministrations were done. He was now ready to serve the master of his master.