tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28065845689846837232024-03-12T22:38:18.988-04:00BookGeeks R mebiblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-60417900452945977062016-06-11T05:06:00.000-04:002018-07-24T19:51:07.589-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LXV<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."<br />
<br />
"You promised."<br />
<br />
"I know but, it hurts when I breathe."<br />
<br />
"If you stopped complaining you wouldn't have to breathe as much and it would hurt less."<br />
<br />
"You're all heart Anders."<br />
<br />
"Less talking more walking."<br />
<br />
"I still don't underst-whoop! Ow."<br />
<br />
"Ooof, watch where you're going Doyle!"<br />
<br />
"But I can't see my feet! Ow!...Or raise my arms."<br />
<br />
Lukas finally stopped walking and looked back to where I stood, unsuccessfully trying to cross my arms indignantly.<br />
<br />
"How am I supposed to drive when I can't see my feet?" I demanded, stamping one of the aforementioned invisible appendages.<br />
<br />
"You could..." He began.<br />
<br />
"Or lift my arms above my waist?"<br />
<br />
"Hmmm...."<br />
<br />
"I told you it was too tight. Ow! Stop that!" I said when he experimentally tried to raise one of my arms out in front of me."<br />
<br />
"Hmmm..." He repeated.<br />
<br />
"And you used way to much tape." I said, jabbing an accusing finger towards him from hip level.<br />
<br />
"Well I had to, you're a big girl you know!"<br />
<br />
I gasped in shocked offense and instantly regretted it. "Ow!"<br />
<br />
"I mean..." He said, back-pedaling. "That is to say...up..well you know, up there where girls are supposed to be...um... You know, some women pay a lot of money for undergarments that give them this kind of figure!"<br />
<br />
"Perhaps, but I doubt those garments are made of surgical tape and most likely don't require specialized tools to take them off."<br />
<br />
"All right, all right! I'll cut you out of it once we get in the van."<br />
<br />
"Now please."<br />
<br />
"No! We haven't finished distracting the target yet."<br />
<br />
"But we already paraded past Marks and he wasn't at all distracted. He just smirked and said 'nice try'. Actually, I'm a bit insulted by that come to think of it." I Mused.<br />
<br />
"You're point Doyle?" He growled.<br />
<br />
"The point is," I huffed. "it didn't work. Marks wasn't distracted so all this," I said flapping my hands up and down to indicate my torso. "was one big old waste of time and tape!"<br />
<br />
"Oh no!" Said Lukas brightly. "The Sergeant is not our target. I wanted him to think so but he was never our target."<br />
<br />
"But," I sputtered in confusion. "If he wasn't our target then who..."<br />
<br />
"Sweet mother of God! I've died and gon ta heaven!" Came a deep baritone to my left.<br />
<br />
"Heh, if ye deid Purn I do'na think it would be hea'ven yeed be seein." Responded a ridiculously thick highland brogue. "Boot I moost admit Corrine, yer sporten a fine pair ov..."<br />
<br />
"Garbelgilit!" Interrupted a strangled suspiciously Blaven-esc sound.<br />
<br />
I turned my feet and head 90 degrees, on the hopeful assumption that the rest of me must eventually follow suit, to find Griffin leering, Bulls grinning like a loon and Blaven...well Blaven looked simply pole-axed.<br />
<br />
"Um," I began, but my torso chose that moment to snap around to join the rest of my body like an overstretched rubber band. It overshot the mark a bit, slid back then finally settled itself with a wobble into a generally front-wise position.<br />
<br />
Bulls gaped in wonder. Blaven's lips were moving but no sound was coming out.<br />
<br />
Griffin, dropped to his knees and proposed marriage.<br />
<br />
"What? No!" I said slapping at his questing hands and scuttling back towards Anders.<br />
<br />
"Aww, come on baby," Wheedled Griffin. "It'le be fun." <br />
<br />
"I dona' think she likes ye Purn."<br />
<br />
"Nah, all the ladies like a bit of Porn, especially when I show them my..."<br />
<br />
"Stop!" I shrieked, wishing desperately that I could lift my hands up high enough to cover my ears.<br />
<br />
"Aww, com'on Corrine..."<br />
<br />
"April." Breathed Blaven.<br />
<br />
"What?" Frowned Griffin.<br />
<br />
"She's Miss April." Continued Blaven. Looking a bit dazed.<br />
<br />
"Hell yes Miss April!" Agreed Griffin. N'fact in that get up, she could be April an May both!" <br />
<br />
"No." Corrected Blaven. "Miss APRIL."<br />
<br />
"Ahhh." Said Bulls. "I ken."<br />
<br />
"What? Ohhhh, yeah." Said Griffin looking me up and down grinning. "THAT Miss April. Sweet!" <br />
<br />
"Who?" I asked utterly confused.<br />
<br />
"So that's what yer into is it Corri...I mean A-PRIL?" Asked Griffin as he scuffled towards me still on his knees. "Ya like a a little role-play baby?"<br />
<br />
I shook my head vigorously sidling around to keep Lukas' body between myself and a seemingly delusional Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Miss April?" I hissed in Lukas' ear. He smirked and tried to step aside. I gripped his belt tightly refusing to relinquish my human shield.<br />
<br />
"Let go Corrine." He hissed back. "It's no good unless they see you." I shook my head mulishly. "Besides, Griffin's about to goose you."<br />
<br />
I yelped and jumped to one side just in time. Lukas took advantage of the moment and slipped out of my foreshortened grasp. "Anders!" I growled. "Get back over here or I swear to God when this is all over I'm going to..."<br />
<br />
Sherman's voice cut across my triade. "Sargent says you three need to get yer asses into gear or...Well I be damned, its Miss April."</div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-46982726765418457182014-04-29T17:46:00.000-04:002014-04-29T17:46:23.413-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LXIV<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
I
continued to grumble as Stewart cheerfully dumped me into a chair by his
station then grumbled a bit more just on general principle as he booted
up his laptop until I remembered the primary purpose of my visit
whereupon I slid my chair up next to his, pasted a friendly, interested
smile on my face and leaned in on the pretext of better seeing the
screen. He raised his eyebrows but continued loading the program. He
began walking me through the analysis. He made no comment when I
shifted in just a bit closer but he did begin absently stroking my hair
with one hand while hovering the other protectively over the keyboard. When I asked him later why he was petting me he mumbled something vague about cats and ex-girlfriends but in the meantime, I had a decent excuse to test my reactions to his close proximity and get in a good sniff.<br />
<br />
Not to bad. A sort of Old spice and copper penny smell mixed with just a dash of melted wire insulation thrown like an afterthought. I glanced over at him as he synced up my EEG s with the sound files.<br />
<br />
His skin was the colour of fine porcelain so pale that you could trace the thin blue blood vessels beneath the surface. This went nicely with the deep blue streaks of dye he had running randomly through his midnight black hair which he wore in a short Mohawk styled at the front into a pompadour and a duck tail in the back. The florescent lighting of the room glinted off numerous piercings and countless tattoos peeked out from the collar and ripped off sleeve holes of his bowling shirt. It was if somehow, he were the love child of Elvis Presley and Sid Viscus. <br />
<br />
Stewart has this amazing affinity for both music and technology. There isn't an instrument he can't play or a piece of hardware he can't fix or re-purpose. He mostly runs the tech and communications for the Geese but he can also blow the chest out of a ghoul with hip shot from his Browning at 600 yards.<br />
<br />
He caught me peeking at him. "Scientific experiment." I said cryptically.<br />
<br />
"Well, if it's for science." He said shrugging then flashed me bemused but accepting grin.<br />
<br />
Very little fazes Stewart and he genuinely seems to enjoy a certain level of bizarre and eccentric behaviour in others which is probably why he gets on so famously well with Zelig...and the rest of us for that matter. Besides, he's what, 22 maybe, we both know that I'm more likely to pinch his cheek and knit him a sweater than jump his bones. Not that I'm old mind you or that he's not kinda cute in a weird pasty metallic sort of way and we both like a lot of the same music...but...no. I definitely did not feel any sudden urges to jump in his lap and kiss him. Not that I think he would mind. <br />
<br />
My next unsuspecting volunteers were Griffin, Blaven and Bulls. Stewart had gone off to his room to grab a CD he had burned for me leaving me to guard the laptop and I, of course, had immediately jumped onto Iwon.com to play mah-jong. The three Geese, sensing a weakness in the defence of the coveted technology, had swooped in without hesitation.<br />
<br />
They descended in a transparently casual pincher movement pretending mere interest in observing perhaps with the occasional comment or suggestion but within two minutes of matching my first tiles I was surrounded on all sides and forced to sit helplessly and watch as three overly ripped space marines battled it out with the demon hordes. It was like being in a testosterone well. <br />
<br />
"I would think you would get enough of that in real life." I said wryly. <br />
<br />
"Hoosh up woman, were training like." Said Bulls as he moved his Doomguy into a more defensible position. <br />
<br />
"Yeah, training." Affirmed Griffin.<br />
<br />
Blaven simply grunted his agreement.<br />
<br />
"'Sides," Continued Griffin. "Sarge locked us out of the World of Warcraft account."<br />
<br />
"Why?" I asked from the depths of the man cave.<br />
<br />
"Said we were spendin' too much time in the tavern."<br />
<br />
"And with the bawdie gurls." Said Bulls.<br />
<br />
"Mmmm...Betty" Added Blaven. <br />
<br />
"God, Jet, don't you start in bou't that she-male again!"<br />
<br />
"Hey! your talkin' bout the woman I love."<br />
<br />
"Ha!" Barked Griffin. "Anyways," He continued. "Turns out ya can run through a lot of cash real fast in places like that."<br />
<br />
"Verra fast." Agreed Bulls. "tch, Watch yer flank there Jet."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, yeah." Groused Blaven.<br />
<br />
"So you blew all your fake gold in a fake bar buying fake beer for fake women and perhaps a fake transvestite?"<br />
<br />
"Tavern." Corrected Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Sorry, <b>tavern.</b>" <br />
<br />
"Pretty much yeah."<br />
<br />
"So, what's the problem?"<br />
<br />
"Well," Hedged Griffin. "Turns out that in addition ta fake gold, this particular tavern and those particular girls accept Visa."<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"And MasterCard." Added Blaven.<br />
<br />
"Boot noot Discover." Finished Bulls.<br />
<br />
"Your kidding right?"<br />
<br />
"Nope."<br />
<br />
"But...why?"<br />
<br />
"Why not?" Griffin shrugged.<br />
<br />
"Dare I ask how much?"<br />
<br />
"Bout 8,000 last month."<br />
<br />
"Dollars?" I gasped.<br />
<br />
"Nah, pounds."<br />
<br />
"What? That's more than $12,000! That could almost pay my mortgage for a year and you idiots spent it all on pretend beer and fake women?"<br />
<br />
"Well, mostly on the women." Said Griffin. And they ain't so much fake as virtual...'cept mabey 'Betty'. That chick's definitely fake.<br />
<br />
"You should show more respect for the future mother of my virtual children." <br />
<br />
<br />
"Still say she's a dude." Said Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Not in Azeroth she wern't." Sniggered Blaven. "Don't care if she's a hairy plumber in the normals she still gave the best b.."<br />
<br />
"I really don't think I need to know this." I said loudly.<br />
<br />
"I was going to say, um, back rubs."<br />
<br />
"If I say I believe you, can we please move on?" I asked hopefully.<br />
<br />
"Yuz one sick dude Jet." Said Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Says you Porn." <br />
<br />
"Damn straight says me. And if I think somthin's sick then you know it's really got ta be twisted."<br />
<br />
"I am actually willing to pay you money to stop talking about this right now."<br />
<br />
"Don't see why we need to be punished." Whined Blaven. "Captain spent more than that all by hisself just at the bawdy house and Sarge didn't block his account."<br />
<br />
"That's because the Captain didn't use the company's credit card to pay his bill." Came Sergeant Mark's voice cutting through the haze of testosterone. "You idiots can piss your pay checks down the Thames for all I care but keep your thieving fingers off my bottom line or next time the bits I chop off won't be virtual ones starting with your teeny, tiny little di..."<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, just at that moment, the Doom war demon assault escalated causing both Bulls and Griffin to jerk back on their controllers while simultaneously driving their elbows into my chest. I squeaked in distress.<br />
<br />
"What? Is that that you in there Liebst?" Asked Marks.<br />
<br />
"Yes. Oof."<br />
<br />
"Why?...Dress up your flank there Blaven."<br />
<br />
"Sir!" <br />
<br />
"Well, I was playing Mah-jong but..Ouch! Hey! Mind where you put those elbows guys."<br />
<br />
"Posh! Yer a nicely squishy gel Corrine." Observed Bulls. "Quite braw. My elbows doon't mind it a bit." <br />
<br />
"Yeah," Agreed Griffin. "But I can kiss and make it better if you'd like."<br />
<br />
"Try it Griffin and I'm going to help Marks start chopping off your teeny tiny..."<br />
<br />
"Ain't nothin' teeny about me sweetheart." Growled Griffin. "For example my..."<br />
<br />
"That's It!" Shouted Marks. "Get the hell off her!" His right hand came down to grip Bulls' collar jerking him up and back while his left hand shoved hard on Griffin's shoulder toppling him sideways out of his seat. Blaven, it seems, had ghosted away at the first hint of trouble.<br />
<br />
"No more second chances Griffin," Growled the sergeant. "Next time I'll take your head off."<br />
<br />
"Wern't like that Sarge I swear." Whined Griffin. "We was just messin' about wasn't we Corrine?"<br />
<br />
"Um. Yes?" I hazarded. Unsure what was going on.<br />
<br />
"It had better been." Said Marks sternly.<br />
<br />
"It's true Sergeant." Confirmed Bulls. "Naught but a bit o' teasing. Ye know we'd ne'er harm our Corrine."<br />
<br />
"Aww." I said touched.<br />
<br />
Marks looked mildly mollified.<br />
<br />
"Side's," muttered Griffin. "she started it."<br />
<br />
"What? I never!" <br />
<br />
"Aye, ye did gel." Said Bulls. "Ye led oos on."<br />
<br />
"In your dreams!"<br />
<br />
"So yer sayin you aint been playn' snuffle bunny with all of us tonight?"<br />
<br />
"I, um, well.." I glanced up at Marks who was looking a bit shocked. "It's not like it sounds."<br />
<br />
"Do tell." Said a grinning Burnadett. When had he come in? <br />
<br />
"Well..." I started. "Well..."<br />
<br />
"Someone has exactly 30 seconds to tell me what the hell is going on before I kill Griffin."<br />
<br />
There was dead silence in the room.<br />
<br />
"And Bulls." Added Marks.<br />
<br />
"Corrine brought in brownies and started a fight." Offered Zelig.<br />
<br />
"Then Zelig called her a fat prostitute so she assaulted an innocent bystander." Complained Sherman rubbing his chest.<br />
<br />
"She's smelling us for science." Shrugged Stewart.<br />
<br />
"Traitors." I hissed at them and was treated to a collective shrug.<br />
<br />
<br />
"I see." Said Marks flatly. He glanced at me with a raised eyebrow.<br />
<br />
"I was collecting data for an important experiment." I sniffed defensively.<br />
<br />
"Well," He said, lowering himself into the chair from which he had just extracted Bulls, a slow smile spreading across his face. "If it's for science then..."<br />
<br />
"Non!" Snapped Burnadett. "I will not have this. Mon Dieu! Experimenting on my men?" He wagged an accusatory finger in my direction. "Treating them as you would a guinea pig. It is contraire a l’éthique! Shame on you Chanson." I blinked at him nonplussed until he added. "If a pretty lady is going to conduct inappropriate experiments on the men of this squad," He grinned and tapped me on the nose. "she had best be conducting them on me first!" <br />
<br />
"Ah," I said "Brave man."<br />
<br />
"Of course." He said sliding smoothly into Griffin's old chair. "What kind of commander would I be if I were to allow my men to face such danger if I am not willing to face it myself?"<br />
<br />
"Oh ho?" Quipped Marks from my other side. "Since when?"<br />
<br />
"Ignore the ugly man on your right Chanson." Said the captain airily. "We are wasting time." He gripped my shoulders and tugged me gently but purposefully towards him. "I insist on being nuzzled immediately!"<br />
<br />
"So you're volunteering to be my guinea pig?" I asked playfully.<br />
<br />
He leaned in closely. "Mais oui-eeek." He murmured into my ear.<br />
<br />
I laughed and, blushing profusely, proceeded to assess the scent of the fearless leader of the Wild Geese.<br />
<br />
He smelled quite pleasant actually, especially when you consider how many of those god-awful cigarettes he smokes each day, sort of a cherry wood smoke and Sen-Sen under-layered by the woodsy scent of Rochas Man. I inhaled deeply so he knew I was taking the experiment seriously. It was enjoyable in a warmth of human contact sort of way and he is wickedly handsome but I did not feel in the least bit um, interested. He smelled good but there was just something missing. Something, perhaps, like linen and spray starch and, well...shoot...I wasn't going to go there.<br />
<br />
I sighed and tried to lean back but Burnadett had taken advantage of the situation and slid over and leaned into me until I was practically sitting in Mark's lap. "Excuse me sir," I said as politely as I could as I felt a moist warmth brushing my earlobe. "Just who's nuzzling who here? Eeep! Hey! No biting. There is a definite no biting rule!"<br />
<br />
"Well, that's disappointing." Rumbled the sergeant against my back.<br />
<br />
"Not biting." Corrected the captain. "Nibbling. Guinea pigs like to nibble." He whispered wickedly in my ear. "Just...so." He said leaning in for another nip.<br />
<br />
"Bad guinea pig. Bad!" I laughed pushing him back with a finger against his chest. "No nibbling on the scientists. No carrots for you!"<br />
<br />
He frowned. "Not even one carrot?" His face became quite tragic. "Not even my little special crunchy carrot for me to take back and nibble on in my lonely cage?"<br />
<br />
"Especially not that carrot."<br />
<br />
"She can nibble me back." He said coyly. I would quite like that."<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
<br />
"You are cruel Chanson, very cruel." He said sadly. He sighed and sprawled back into his chair.<br />
<br />
"Ah well." He shrugged. He lit a cigarette and swung his feet up onto the table narrowly missing the laptop. "C'est la guerre. So Chanson," He said with casual disinterest, tilting back his chair and frowning at an imaginary speck of dust on his scuffed boots. "how went the experiment? Did my fresh, yet manly scent please you?"<br />
<br />
"Fresh yet manly?" Grinned Marks. "You lose man points for that one Burnadett."<br />
<br />
The captain waived a dismissive hand. "It matters not, as long as it pleases the ladies." He tilted his head and beamed charm at me. "And it does please the ladies does it not Chanson?"<br />
<br />
"You smell quite nice Pip." I assured him. "Both fresh and manly."<br />
<br />
"There, you see? Man-ley." He said smugly. "And irresistible to Women. I believe that is double man points to me Marks." <br />
<br />
"De-lusional more like." Snorted Marks. "But we waste valuable scientific time. Come liebst," He said tugging playfully on my ponytail. "I will be the next to volunteer." <br />
<br />
"Oh, you always smell good." I said absently a bit distracted by his actions then clamped my mouth shut when I realized what I had just said. <br />
<br />
"Well now." Chuckled Marks. "I am very glad to hear it. Very, glad." He rumbled into my ear then looked up at Burnadett. "You catch that 'Pip'?"<br />
<br />
"Hmmmm, interesting." Said the captain. Raising his eyebrows and leering. "And how often is it that you are smelling our sergeant Chanson?"<br />
<br />
"You heard her, always. I always smell good. And that," He crowed, punctuating his message with my ponytail. "means triple points for me! Now don't start blushing liebst." He said, tickling my nose with the end. "You have simply proven to be a woman of discerning taste and shall be properly rewarded." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Shall I take you out to dinner tonight?"<br />
<br />
"Oh. Um..." I said disconcerted. It was odd, I liked Marks a lot and he would seem to be a prime candidate for my experiment. So why did I hesitate? He was terribly handsome and, yes, always smelled good but there was something about him that would never let me relax. We laughed and joked and flirted outrageously at times but somehow, it always seemed a bit stilted as if we were running lines in a play. It never felt completely natural. There was something almost calculating in his courtship. I was attracted to him but always felt a bit like prey.<br />
<br />
"You are assuming she will still be talking to us later." Pointed out the captain.<br />
<br />
"Well, there is that." Mused Marks. "Bah, she's a good sport aren't you liebst? Not the kind of girl to hold a grudge."<br />
<br />
"Why would I be holding a grudge?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Because of how badly we are going to pound you into the ground at this afternoon's exercise." He replied. "Not that I want to mind, but needs must."<br />
<br />
"What makes you so sure your going to beat me?" <br />
<br />
"I always have before."<br />
<br />
"Well don't get too cocky." I said. "Lukas and I have been practising and we've got a few tricks up our sleeves."<br />
<br />
"That's nice but it won't make a difference because I'm already in your head Corrine. No matter what you try, I'll know it first because I'm right, in, here." He said jovially tapping my forehead with the end of my braid.<br />
<br />
I growled and managed to finally wrestle my hair from his grip but my triumph was short lived as used the opening to cop a quick feel. I slapped away his hand and scrambled back in outrage only to land in Burnadett's lap. The Capitan responded by wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder, all the better vantage point to watch the show. Pip, being, ironically, the lesser or two evils at the moment, was ignored so I could turn the full force of my anger on the sergeant. <br />
<br />
"You arrogant....jerk!" His eyebrow rose mockingly at the lameness of my insult which, of course, just made me angrier. "Argh! That's it. You know, up until now, I was just hoping we'd make a decent showing of it but now...." I said, poking him in the chest to emphasise each word. "we're just going to have to kick your butt!"<br />
<br />
"Butt?" Sniggered Griffin. "Christ, your bad at this Corrine." I spared him a venomous glance but he simply shrugged and grinned. "Well, ya are."<br />
<br />
"Shut it Griffin." Said Marks mildly. He tilted his head and looked me up and down. "So," He said with amusement. "you think you and Häkchen here" He indicated Anders, who had pointedly been ignoring us behind his newspaper, with a lazy hand. "can take me?" He laughed. "Well, you can't. I've had his number for years." Anders sniffed and rattled his newspaper feigning indifference but I noticed his eyes narrow and his lips thin in annoyance. "Besides," Continued Marks. "It isn't just me you're going up against this time, it's the whole squad." <br />
<br />
"The whole squad?" <br />
<br />
"Precisely." Said Marks.<br />
<br />
"I am afraid it is so." Said the captain, giving me a gentle squeeze.<br />
<br />
"What! Why? Get off me!" I said breaking from Pip's embrace and standing to confront the room. <br />
<br />
"Orders from on high." Said the sergeant gesturing towards the manor house. "It's to be the Armageddon scenario tonight."<br />
<br />
I made a small strangled noise.<br />
<br />
"Apparently there is a bit of a wager going on between Sir Integra and Herr <span class="st">Nosferatu and you're it."</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">"There, see, someone has faith in me. Which one is betting I will win?"</span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">"Neither, they're just betting on how far you you can get before you're toasted." </span><br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
<span class="st">"Oh now that's just wrong."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">"Trust me liebst, no one's betting on you to win. Not even Jet here and can never resist the long odds."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">"True." Agreed Blaven. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">"How long?" </span><br />
<br />
"700 to 1 against." Said Zelig consulting his book. "Course the odds are slightly better on you making the first quarter mile."<br />
<br />
"Oh yes?" I said sarcastically. "Your faith in me is warming."<br />
<br />
"Mmm." He agreed. "We got you in there at 250 to 1 against."<br />
<br />
"You know I hate you all right?"<br />
<br />
"Aww, don't hate the playa baby.."<br />
<br />
"You do know you're white don't you Griffin?" Interrupted Sherman. "I sometimes wonder."<br />
<br />
Anders, still pretending to read his newspaper, began drumming his fingers impatiently on the table. <br />
<br />
"Now Corrine," Continued Sherman. "you know it ain't personal. We're mercenaries, the boss says to pound people, we pound them. It's what we're paid to do." He shrugged. "And tonight the boss says to pound you." <br />
<br />
"Only not so's you'd like it." Brayed Griffin.<br />
<br />
I opened my mouth to say something scathing but could only come up with, "Oh, as if." which sounded lame even to me.<br />
<br />
"Course," Mused Griffin scratching his massive chest. "someone up at the big house must have a real hard on for you seeing as how they're lending us one of their own senior officers as back up. Not as we need it but still..." He sniffed and grinned evilly at me. "Damn."<br />
<br />
I squeaked, cleared my throat then turned towards Burnadett and tried to ask calmly. "Which ah, senior officer would that be?" I asked with feigned indifference. <i>Not Walter. Not Walter. Oh please, oh please, oh please not Walter!</i> <br />
<br />
"Ah." He said with mock sadness. "I am being forced to work with the delicious mademoiselle Victoria, much to my consternation." He grinned mischievously.<br />
<br />
I visibly sagged with relief, then straightened with indignation. "What! you're using my Seras against me?"<br />
<br />
"Non, Chanson." he said. "She is assigned to us for the evening so technically, I am using <b>my</b> Seras against you. Désolé de ce" He said looking not in the least bit sorry.<br />
<br />
"Oh!" I said. "Now how is this at all fair?" <br />
<br />
"It isn't fair." Agreed Zelig. "How am I supposed to make book on odds like that? I'm having to lay bets by the meter. Ridiculous!"<br />
<br />
"Hmm, hadn't thought about that." Said the captain. "Sorry about that Zelig, I'll make it up to you with a bonus."<br />
<br />
"The hell you will." Muttered Marks.<br />
<br />
"But Karl, he's the only one who does not try to cheat the numbers. Surely you do not wish Sherman to start keeping book again. Remember Syria?"<br />
<br />
"Fine." He sighed. Then more firmly. "A little one."<br />
<br />
Zelig beamed sunnily.<br />
<br />
"Oh nice." I said sarcastically. "Let's all make sure Zelig's not inconvenienced. What about me?"<br />
<br />
"I told you," Said Marks. "I'm taking you out to dinner."<br />
<br />
"Yeah right, like I'm going to... excuse me" I said distracted as my pager went off. I frowned down at the message then grinned "Ooo good one." I muttered then looked up and said coolly to the Sargent. "Well that's my punishment for losing. What do I get if I win?"<br />
<br />
<br />
There were a couple of suppressed guffaws and a snigger from Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Ha, got you there." The Capitan smiled.<br />
<br />
Marks' lips twitched up a bit. "Decided to join the party have you Anders?" <br />
<br />
"Sir." Said Lukas, pocketing his Blackberry and crossing over to where I stood.<br />
<br />
"Interesting choice of dates."<br />
<br />
"You assigned her to me sir. That makes her a part of my team. A good commander supports his team sir," He said pointedly. "always." <br />
<br />
"Well, well." Said Marks grinning. "Doesn't that just take me back?" He narrowed his eyes at us both. "Still, I'm a bit surprised."<br />
<br />
"Never could just lie back and take it sir." <br />
<br />
"No Häkchen," Said Marks as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I guess you never could." He gave Anders a look that could almost be described as tender. "Still going to pound the snot out of you boy understand?"<br />
<br />
Luckas' hand trembled slightly against the small of my back but his gaze remained calm and steady "You can try old man, you can try." He glanced around the room slowly cold blues eyes glinting out from behind his raggedy, blond bangs. "You can all..try." <br />
<br />
A couple of the geese looked decidedly nervous at this statement. Marks grinned evilly, the captain looked bored.<br />
<br />
"Well," Said Burnadett, as he exhaled a plume of blue smoke. "That's decided then. Anders," He said languidly waiving his cigarette in our direction. "I am sure you and your ah, team have a lot to do to get ready so off with you now."<br />
<br />
"Sir." Said Anders turning me towards the door.<br />
<br />
"But," I began.<br />
<br />
"Aller maintenant, shoo!"<br />
<br />
I huffed and started towards the door. <br />
<br />
"I will come by you room later Chanson and kiss you for luck no?"<br />
<br />
"In your dreams Pip." I sniped.<br />
<br />
"Constantly, but not quite so often as I am in yours." <br />
<br />
I tried to turn and reply but Anders was forcibly pushing me out the door. <br />
<br />
"God!" He said closing the door behind us. "You really are terrible at trash talk Doyle." <br />
<br />
"No, I had a really good one this time."<br />
<br />
"No, trust me, you didn't." He said striding down the hall.<br />
<br />
"I did, I really did you see I was going to say.." <br />
<br />
"No time," He said "Besides that's not the point." <br />
<br />
"It's not?"<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
<br />
..."So what is the point?"<br />
<br />
<br />
"Do you want to argue with them Doyle or do you want to win?"<br />
<br />
"Oh," I said. "I want to win but."<br />
<br />
He stopped short and spun around to look down at me eyes blazing. "Do you?" He asked. "I mean really want it? Because I do. I want it so bad I can taste it." His eyes grew a bit distant. "I hate losing." He said softly. "Always have. As a kid, I never could walk away from a fight even if it meant getting the shit kicked out of me." He smiled wryly and continued. "Remind me sometime to tell you about how I met the Sergeant." His eyes focused back on me and he said. "Maybe not, you'd be horrified but the point is I've never beaten him. Not once. He gets in your head, knows what you're thinking. You can't fool him and it really pisses me off sometimes you know? To have him always one step ahead?"<br />
<br />
I smiled a bit at that one. "Yeah," I said. "I think I see. Even if you like them, it can get kind of annoying."<br />
<br />
"Exactly!" He said. "Exactly. Even if you like them, even if you, love them. You want, no, you need to show them, even if it just that one time, that you can be the best or the strongest. That maybe he's not always the smartest person in the room." <br />
<br />
"You seem to have thought about this a lot." I said. Keeping the word 'obsessed' smartly to myself.<br />
<br />
"I have." He agreed. "I think and I look and I listen. And this time, I have a chance." He leaned down and gripped my shoulders. "I've been watching how that vampire works and how he trains you and I'm pretty sure I know why he and Sir Integra decided on the the Armageddon scenario tonight. I even think I figured out why they are loaning that Victoria to the squad. They want to use the stress and fear to force you to take the next step. To get you so angry you break through the pain and move your powers to the next level. But what if," He said, his eyes taking on a speculative gleam. "we beat them to it?"<br />
<br />
"I don't understand."<br />
<br />
"What if we triggered your breakthrough early, before they expected it? At the beginning of the exorcize when there's still a chance to win instead of at the end when it's hopeless?"<br />
<br />
"I suppose that would give us an advantage."<br />
<br />
"Advantage, hell, we'd mop the floor with them."<br />
<br />
"But how can you say that when I don't even know what the breakthrough will be much less if it is useful."<br />
<br />
"I told you, I watch, I listen and I am pretty sure I know what it's going to be and if I'm right it's going to be spectacular."<br />
<br />
"Oooo, what is it?"<br />
<br />
"I'll tell you." He said. "But then you have to promise to do as I say, when I say it because if we move too soon it will queer the deal but if we time your breakthrough just right," He smiled beatifically at that point. "it will be a thing of spectacular beauty." He sobered up and looked at me intently. "Either way, I will get us through this as best I can but I ask you one last time Corrine, do you just want to 'make a decent show of it' or do you want to win? <br />
<br />
I looked up at him sombrely searching his gaze. "Oh," I said softly, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I want to win.<br />
<br />
He grinned like I had just given him the best Christmas present ever. "Excellent!" He said throwing his arm about my shoulders and ushering me towards the barracks exit. "Come on, there's a lot to do!" He glanced down at me. "Corrine, remember the other night when we tracked Victoria through the catacombs?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, of course."<br />
<br />
"Do you think you could do it again?"<br />
<br />
"I think so but.."<br />
<br />
"Good! Now here is what we are going to do...."</div>
</div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-59472842799424415402013-10-20T09:22:00.000-04:002014-03-28T16:09:23.945-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LXIII<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A dear friend of mine once referred to our mutual place of work as a "ball of confusion". She was quoting a song I believe. I had laughed at her witticism but had not truly appreciated the concept on a personal level until now.<br />
<br />
My final test on the Tortoise is today but instead of concentrating on my training, I have spent these last three nights trying to figure out what was going on with my hormones and why I had reacted so strongly to Walter during my shooting lesson with little to no success. <br />
<br />
It had taken less than a second to decide that talking to Alucard was right out. He either either knew nothing about it, in which case I would only be giving him further ammunition to abuse and exploit me or he already knew all about it, perhaps had even caused it but was choosing not to tell me for his own amusement. In which case he would simply abuse and humiliate me for my "whiny ingratitude". Plus, there was the almost certain chance that he would gleefully and quite publicly share this information with the party in question.<br />
<br />
Alucard had made it clear on more than one occasion that he did not like the influence Walter had over me. He would have no qualms about using this embarrassing revelation to drive a wedge into that relationship. As awkward as I was feeling around Walter at the moment, it would be nothing compared to what would happen if he were appraised of my new found, ahem, awareness of him.<br />
<br />
He would, I am sure, be very polite and understanding about the whole thing. He would probably try to attach a rational, biological explanation to it like he had with the tears. What a horrid thought, even if it was what I was trying to do myself. Worse yet, he might try to be kind and let me down gently thinking I had developed some ridiculous schoolgirl crush on him, which I haven't! At least I don't think I have. I mean, I remember having stupid crushes when I was younger and even a few cases of unrequited lust but this thing that was happening to me held none of the ridiculous euphoria or anxious nausea that either of these states always seemed to entail. <br />
<br />
Regardless of the cause, the thought of losing Walter's respect and companionship fills me with dread. It isn't worth the risk so I have shut my mouth and am running Alucard's mazes like the good little lab lab rat I am, baulking and complaining I hope just enough so he won't get too suspicious.<br />
<br />
This however, has not stopped me from conducting a few little experiments of my own. I have begun a covert operation to discretely invade the personal space of as many of the denizens of the Hellsing estate, especially the male ones, as time and circumstance will allow, so far with extremely mixed and not particularly useful results.<br />
<br />
I began my research in the lab. It seemed the logical place to start. Plus, I had to be there anyway, might as well test them while they were testing me.<br />
<br />
It was a total wash. Dr. Levin smells of antibiotic soap and has the annoying habit of taking my temperature whenever I approach him and poor Andrew smells of acne wash, aftershave and fear (well he does work with Miss Pringle) and tends to start stammering when he gets close to cleavage. Neither of them elicited a single spark of the warm and fuzzeys in me.<br />
<br />
I decided to try the kitchen next. I figured I could sniff the cook and bake some treats for the Geese at the same time. The cook, a grizzled old Hellsing veteran by the name Garvel, tolerated my presence in the kitchen because I had introduced him to cream cheese brownies but if poor Seras so much as poked her nose in the door he would hurl blistering curses and saucepans with deadly accuracy.<br />
<br />
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At first I just assumed it was the usual prejudice against vampires until I realized he seemed to have the same visceral reaction to all females under the age of 40. "Jezebels, the lot o' them!" He was wont to inform me. Even Sir Integra tended to avoid the kitchen when he was in a snit so I really wasn't too surprised when I leaned in a bit too close to him over the salmon croquettes, to feel the cold steel<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> prongs of a toasting fork press against my ribs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Now then miss, we both know your a good gel so why don't you just step back a bit and I won't have to dent my nice </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span class="ac ads-creative">new Calphalon</span> pan 'ere." I squeaked a bit and scuttled back to my brownies. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Women!" He grumped. "Just can't help it I guess but you resist it ya hear gel? Resist temptation and avoid damnation I always say." I wasn't sure which temptation he was admonishing me to resist; him or the croquettes but</span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> nodded solemnly to avoid ejection from the kitchen.</span> He gave me a final glare before turning back to his salmon and muttering about Jezebels. I was still within saucepan range so I suppressed my amusement and pulled the brownies from the oven. Besides, I had my results which were, well, nothing really. There was no weird awareness or urge to cuddle, despite Garvel's paranoid assertions, and he smelled like old man and salmon cakes which, while not horrible, certainly did not have me swooning with longing, just the heat.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I sighed and cut up the brownies. Maybe I needed younger, less deadly subjects. Paid mercenaries perhaps? Hmm...Several handsome young test subjects all packed together in one spot. </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Yes, the Geese would do nicely. "Work, work, work." I mock groused to myself as I piled baked goods on a tray. I cleaned up my work area, bid farewell to the cook and scampered over to the barracks. </span><br />
<br />
--------<br />
<br />
Well that went over like a lead balloon. My first victim/test subject was Zelig. Not for any particular reason other than the fact that he pounced on me the second I walked through the door.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately Griffin, Bulls and Sherman had spotted me as well and a brief melee ensued over possession of the goodies. Zelig may be small but he fights nasty and so with a few carefully aimed kicks and punches he managed to set the other three against each other and escape with me and half the contents of the tray before anyone, me especially, knew what had happened. That man really likes his brownies. <br />
<br />
"What am I going to do with you?" I sighed as he dragged hiss prizes, myself included, into a defensible corner.<br />
<br />
"I've already told you the plan." He said through a mouthful of fudge and walnuts.<br />
<br />
"I refuse to be either your death muse or a groupie." I snapped.<br />
<br />
"We both know I'm going to talk you into it."<br />
<br />
"You most certainly won't." <br />
<br />
"We'll see." He said patting my hand. He plopped down at a table and began sorting his horde. I snorted then sank down next to him. He gave me a suspicious look then seemed to remember I was the one who had brought his treats in the first place and relaxed. <br />
<br />
"So what are you working on today?" I asked. Watching in fascination as he built a twisting tower out of brownies.<br />
<br />
"Well, I was working on my mural but my death muse," He said giving me the hairy eyeball. "Is being stubborn and won't pose for me."<br />
<br />
"Death muses can be like that." I said unsympathetically. "But Mr. Russell's daughter seemed quite keen to be a nymph for you."<br />
<br />
"Oh yes." He said. "She's already agreed to pose."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, that to."<br />
<br />
"I do have this effect on women." He said. "Can't help it. It's quite annoying sometimes when I'm trying to work."<br />
<br />
I narrowed my eyes. It's often hard to tell if Zelig is joking. I'm not completely sure he even has a sense of humour by normal human standards.<br />
<br />
"I'll sketch her in tomorrow but today..." He said pulling a brownie, Jenga style, from the tower. "I'm working on a side project combining natural patterns and fractal imagery onto textiles. You see," He said, warming to his subject. "most mathematicians think of fractals as self-similar complex equations, that is to say, a reproduced detailed geometrical pattern that remains similar and repeats the pattern in finer and finer detail the more closely you examine it. Making the structure very hard topographically to measure. You may have seen some of the recently published photographs of Mandelbrot sets that are so popular right now. Very sci-fi, very trendy. It's what most laymen tend to think of when you mention fractals but the thing is they are also very common in nature. Fractal patterns are everywhere and people just don't see them often because they are so large or so small as to be easily missed." He pulled a gel pen out from behind his ear and cast about for a writing surface. "Take mountains for example. From the widest range down to the smallest pebble, you seem the same shapes and patterns repeating over and over. Look at the oak tree its branch its leaf. The cauliflower, the fern..." He had given up on paper and started drawing patterns on the back of my hand and up my arm.<br />
<br />
I didn't mind though it was an interesting topic plus it gave me an excuse to lean in and get a good sniff. Not bad. For all his uncaring attitude towards most social conventions, Zelig was actually quite well groomed. His black uniform was always impeccably clean and pressed his boots mirror bright and he wouldn't be caught dead out of his room if his goatee weren't closely trimmed and his midnight hair not gelled to within an inch of its life. He was as handsome and sleek as a cat and twice as temperamental. <br />
<br />
All things considered, I guess I should have been attracted to him but for some reason I always seemed instead to be torn between wanting to mother him or throttle him to death. Besides, who wants to date anyone who spends more time in the bathroom getting ready than you do? Still, if my hormones were acting up I should at least feel a bit tingly around him shouldn't I?<br />
<br />
I leaned in a bit and gave him a sniff. Not bad. Sort of citrus and spicy like a cloven fruit but no strong urge to nuzzle him. Zelig, oblivious as usual, simply used my proximity to roll up my sleeve and begin tracing lines along my biceps never missing a beat in the conversation. "ah the fern is actually a favourite of mine, so beautifully complex in it's apparent simplicity." He demonstrated by inking a sheaf of fronds down my triceps. "You see how nicely they all fit together like a beautiful nature puzzle, complementing and interlocking. Now add some lighting and some frost. See how jagged they are and yet they both bloom....Corrine!" He yelped. <br />
<br />
"Sorry, but it tickled." He had reached the inside of my elbow causing me to jerk a bit.<br />
<br />
"Gah! I hate it when women move. Why do they always want to wiggle when I am trying to work on them?"<br />
<br />
"And now you know why Zelig's girls always leave disappointed." Said Sherman brightly as he slid up to us and tried to steal a brownie. "Hey Corrine." <br />
<br />
Zelig blocked him with a snarl. "Mine! Go get your own." <br />
<br />
"Which, the brownie or the girl?"<br />
<br />
"Both! And I'll have you know the girls always come back."<br />
<br />
"Cause ya pay them to."<br />
<br />
"Of course I do they're professionals."<br />
<br />
"They most certainly are." Agreed Sherman with a smirk. "Hard 'Working girls', each and every one."<br />
<br />
Zelig frowned thoughtfully then perked up a bit. "Is that you won't pose for me Corrine? How bout I pay you a little something then you can say your a professional too."<br />
<br />
Sherman barked with laughter as he reached over two fingers to gently ease my gaping mouth closed. "I think you've just shocked Corrine." He said.<br />
<br />
<br />
"What, why?" Asked Zelig. "Your not so bad looking, I've done worse...we would have to do something about your outfit."<br />
<br />
"Is he..." I whispered, struggling to find my voice. "...comparing me to a prostitute?" I asked Sherman.<br />
<br />
"Um Zelig?" Said Sherman carefully. "Remember when we discussed how to talk to regular women?"<br />
<br />
"Maybe." Replied Zelig as he restructured the brownie tower.<br />
<br />
"well, perhaps this would be a good time to dust off the memory."<br />
<br />
"But Corrine's not a regular girl." Snorted Zelig. "She's...well, Corrine."<br />
<br />
"Yes but,"<br />
<br />
"And once I pay her she'll be a pro, just like the other's." He slid a 20 pound note out of his wallet and placed in my hand. "There." He said with satisfaction. <br />
<br />
I stared down at it, dumbfounded.<br />
<br />
"Don't worry Corrine," Said Zelig patting my hand. "I'll be careful with you as its your first time and I know your worried about those extra pounds but I've always preferred the Rubenesque figure."<br />
<br />
I clenched my fist around the money. It made a dangerous crumpling noise. "So now I'm a fat prostitute?"<br />
<br />
"Don't worry," Chuckled Sherman. "He often forgets to sleep with them so you might be OK." <br />
<br />
I whirled on him clutching a fistful of his shirt with my free hand. "What did you just say to me?"<br />
<br />
"Just having a little fun is all Corrine."<br />
<br />
I growled and twisted my wrist a bit. He smelled of flannel,sweat and, dare I flatter myself, just a hint of fear. No attraction there that's for sure.<br />
<br />
"Ow! OK, now it's not so funny no more." He shifted a bit uncomfortably and frowned. "And whatcha so mad at me about? He's the one who said it."<br />
<br />
"You started it. Besides Zelig doesn't know any better."<br />
<br />
"True." Agreed Zelig.<br />
<br />
"What?" I asked confused.<br />
<br />
"My last therapist said I had boundary issues, something to do with childhood trauma I think, plus an almost pathological inability to correctly read social situations. Actually, he more shouted it than said it." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "'Course I'd just blown up his BMW."<br />
<br />
I stared at him blankly. <br />
<br />
"Um,could ya let go now Corrine?" Asked Sherman.<br />
<br />
I glanced down to where my fist still clutched the front of his shirt. "I'm not sure that I should." I mused.<br />
<br />
"Geeze! Why not?"<br />
<br />
"Cause I really want to strangle someone at the moment and your the closest person."<br />
<br />
"You know, you didn't used to be so violent."<br />
<br />
"We have this effect on people." Said a voice from behind me. I tilted my head back to look into Stewart's smiling face.<br />
<br />
"Hallo Corrine, you look like an Escher print."<br />
<br />
"I know, Zelig did it. Kinda nifty huh?" I wiggled my arm back and forth a bit to show him eliciting a grunt of displeasure from Sherman. <br />
<br />
"Dag woman!" He protested. "Yer rippen out the Love Rug...and who says 'nifty' any more?"<br />
<br />
"I do." I said tugging warningly on his shirt. "Got a problem with that Mr. 'Love Rug'?"<br />
<br />
"No Corrine." He said smartening up. "But it do kinda hurt a bit so if I say sorry could you just...let...go?"<br />
<br />
"How bout we go over the your audio files from last week." Said Stewart as he carefully pried my fingers away from the Sherman's shirt. "I got some really freakish harmonic readings off your voice,<br />
totally brilliant."<br />
<br />
I nodded and started to walk away when I heard Zelig say.<br />
<br />
"You see how she taps into her inner death muse to defend me? Don't make me unleash her upon you again"<br />
<br />
"Nah, that ain't it trust me." Replied Sherman. "I've got seven sisters I know when a girl's 'on the ra..." I whirled and stalked back towards him eyes blazing. I felt Stewart's arm band about my waist.<br />
<br />
"Zone's heating up." He said brightly as my feet lifted from the floor. "Extracting subject from the situation." I grumbled and glared daggers at my almost victims as Stewart dragged me away.</div>
</div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-84971546419847181352013-07-12T00:17:00.001-04:002013-07-12T15:28:03.830-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LXII<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Two and a half hours later, after I had memorized the drills and passed both the written and oral comprehensives <i>(I'm not kidding)</i>, Walter finally agreed to let me touch a real gun.<br />
<br />
"Very well ." He said, neatly placing my two page essay on the scoring table. "I think you are ready. May I see your hands please Ms. Doyle?"<br />
<br />
Curious, I held my hands out feeling a bit like a small child showing her mom she had washed her hands before dinner. He reached out and positioned them between us palms up. He flexed my wrists once or twice then laid two of his fingers across each of my palms. I'm not that ticklish but shivered a bit at the sensation of the soft cotton brushing against my skin. "Close your hands please, making fists." Intrigued, I loosely closed my fingers about his own. "Now squeeze." I squeezed.<br />
<br />
"Harder." He ordered. I squeezed harder. "Come now Ms. Doyle, that wouldn't crush a carton of eggs, surely we can do better than that."<br />
<br />
"I don't want to hurt you." <br />
<br />
He managed to look both offended and amused at the same time. "That is hardly likely Ms. Doyle." He thought a moment. "Perhaps if you were to pretend I was Nurse Pringle?"<br />
<br />
My fingers spasmed and I felt bones grinding together.<br />
<br />
"That's a bit more like it." He said sounding pleased. "Now hold...and release." He nodded<br />
<br />
"Just as I thought." He said. He turned towards a gun locker bearing the Hellsing crest, unlocked it and drew out a small case. "Both hands are reasonably strong and flexible and while your left is clearly dominant, I suspect that, like many left handed persons, you have attempted to develop a certain amount of dexterity in both hands to adapt to your environment. I also suspect that these efforts have often been frustrating and only minimally successful."<br />
<br />
"It is a right handed world." I sighed. "Even bread knives hate me."<br />
<br />
"The issue Ms. Doyle is deciding when one should adapt to accommodate the environment and when the environment should be adapted to accommodate you. Determining which will give you the best results or better yet, the advantage."<br />
<br />
<br />
I thought for a moment. "Like with fencing?"<br />
<br />
"Very good Ms. Doyle. A left handed fencer does have a slight advantage over a right handed opponent." <br />
<br />
I looked down at the case. "But I thought guns were ambidextrous."<br />
<br />
"Not really, no. The safety and release are more often than not designed for right hand use. Even the sites and grip are an issue on some models. Rifles are even more problematic."<br />
<br />
"Oh dear." I said.<br />
<br />
"But this," He said opening the case and lifting out a pistol. "Should help to level the playing field." <br />
<br />
"Oooo." I breathed leaning into take a closer look. I know next to nothing about guns but it was sleek and black with a burled wood handle that shone like satin. It looked dangerous and sexy and I wanted to touch it.<br />
<br />
"This," Said Walter holding out the pistol. "is a pre-production prototype for the forthcoming Cabot South Paw 1911. It features<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> twenty lpi front strap checkering, rear
slide serrations,</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> a skeletonized hammer with chamfers, beavertail
grip safety,</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> aluminium skeletonized trigger, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">a chamfered magazine well, p</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">olished feed ramp and an eight round magazine." I tried looking impressed but had really only understood the last bit. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"This weapon" Said Walter happily warming to the subject. "is not just a standard model that has been modified to be ambidextrous or left hand friendly but has been designed and built from the ground up for left handed use. It has a</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> left handed extended thumb safety,</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> left handed slide stop, left handed magazine release and a</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> left handed lowered and flared ejection port. All of its operations and controls are left handed and it is easy to dissemble, clean and maintain." He smiled a bit and said. "I've taken the liberty of customizing the finish and grip and adjusted the sites to account for the astigmatism in your left eye."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"What size round does it shoot?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">".45"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My eyes got big. "I'll break my nose."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"I've made some modifications to reduce the recoil but it still has a bit of a kick. I am confident I can teach you to compensate."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I frowned and nibbled my lip.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"There is no point in giving you a weapon Ms. Doyle that is not capable of stopping a ghoul from a comfortable distance."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> "You most definitely have a point Mr. Dollneaz a .45 it is." I reached out and tentatively ran a finger along the grip. It looked perfectly smooth but there was definitely a texture. "Is this rosewood?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Cocobolo." He said. "An unusual specimen I picked up when I was last in South America. I thought it would suit." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"It's lovely." I said. "I never thought I would use the word elegant to describe a gun but it really is beautiful." I blushed a bit. I never thought I would find myself gushing over a gun but Walter's enthusiasm was infectious and it really was terribly attractive in a dangerous, instrument of death sort of way. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Very kind of you to say."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I glanced up at Walter who had the same proud yet self-effacing look that a parent gets when someone complements their child. Although the wire had apparently always been his weapon of choice in battle, Walter was an accomplished gunsmith. There wasn't a revolver, pistol or rifle used by the household staff that he had not built or customized for Hellsing's singular needs. He had even designed Seras' beloved Harkonnen cannon to suit her special talents and if Alucard had actually been capable of loving anything it would probably be his custom Jackal. I ducked my head back down and ran my fingers lightly over the gun.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"I take it you approve of my selection Ms. Doyle?" He asked.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Oh yes Mr. Dollneaz." I agreed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Shall we try it out then?" </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Absolutely." I enthused. "Just one question though."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Yes Ms. Doyle?"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"What's a </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">chamfer?"</span><br />
<br />
********<br />
<br />
So after we got the terminology straightened out (just Google the bits you don't know I'm tired), Walter led me over to the lanes and showed me how to load and fire the weapon.<br />
<br />
Walter's approach to teaching was professional but not un-enjoyable. He was patient and never yelled at me even after repeatedly having to remind me not to squeeze my eyes shut while pulling the trigger. I in turn, tried bravely not to flinch or scream slightly every time I saw that lovely sleek, weapon flying at my face from the recoil. <br />
<br />
It seemed an impossible task but when I volunteered that perhaps some people, especially left handed with poor fine motor skills and a slight astigmatism kind of people, were never really meant to handle firearms, Walter firmly told me that he had taught far more hopeless pupils than me and wasn't about to allow the word failure to enter his vocabulary. I offered to fetch a dictionary. He did not reply, he simply employed his patented evil butler super-powered disapproving stare until I meekly turned back to my target and squared off for the next shot. <br />
<br />
Walter's instructional methods were also, of course, not so nearly as "hands on" as Marks' had been. For the most part he would demonstrate each point followed by verbal instruction, only occasionally stepping in to correct my grip or stance.<br />
<br />
After a few near disasters, I finally managed to grasp the concept of absorbing the recoil into my body instead of trying to stop it entirely with my wrists and forearms. With this threat to my poor, beleaguered nose nullified, I actually began to relax and enjoy myself. My aim was still atrocious mind you but, as Walter pointed out, at least the screaming had stopped.<br />
<br />
"Not," He said. "that your squeaks of terror aren't absolutely charming but our goal here is to shoot ghouls, not serenade them."<br />
<br />
I humphed and lined up another shot.<br />
<br />
"Unless your goal is, in fact, to entertain in which case your insistence on closing one eye and squinting like a pirate in a pantomime when you aim makes a great deal of sense. If not, I can but emphasise the advantages of binocular vision and depth perception."<br />
<br />
"Yar!" I growled but tried harder to keep both eyes open.<br />
<br />
I fired off a few more rounds enthusiastically blowing chunks off of my paper target. One of them actually even hit the silhouetted figure. "Oh look!" I cried happily. "I think I clipped his elbow."<br />
<br />
"Very effective Ms. Doyle, were he a professional tennis player but a shot like that won't even slow a ghoul down. Have you tried actually looking at the target before pulling the trigger?"<br />
<br />
"Snarkey comments will not help to improve my aim." I snapped, then fired off the last round in the clip. It hit dead center in the belly.<br />
<br />
"That, was a fluke!" I insisted as I loaded a fresh clip. "It means nothing."<br />
<br />
He ignored my comments and switched back to instructor mode. "Your stance is still off center" He said. "and your grip not quite right." He strolled up behind me and made a slight adjustment to my shoulders. "Feet a bit further apart." He intoned. "Now, raise the gun a little higher but keep it on the center line. Better," He said. "but your grip is still off Ms. Doyle."<br />
<br />
I moved my fingers around a bit.<br />
<br />
"No, Ms. Doyle. Hold it as I demonstrated earlier."<br />
<br />
"I am." I protested.<br />
<br />
"No. Not quite." He said and reached around to adjust my fingers.<br />
<br />
Something strange happened just then. It was as if the axis of my internal world had suddenly shifted. Everything remained the same on the surface but somehow, in that moment, I became very aware of Walter...as a man.<br />
<br />
I mean of course I've known for over two months now that Walter is a man. I just hadn't been particularity "aware" of the fact. I know it sounds ridiculous but I guess I'd spent so much time trying to untangle the who of Walter the uberbutler (jailer, babysitter, protector, friend?), that I had failed to pay attention to the what. But in that moment, with him standing so very close I was experiencing an acute awareness of his being quite male.<br />
<br />
His height of, approximately, 6'4" belied broad shoulders and long arms which easily wrapped around to encompass me. I am 5' 6" and even with the weight I've lost, still a big girl but he suddenly made me feel small and fragile and acutely female. <br />
<br />
<br />
'Oh dear.' I thought. 'Oh, dear.'<br />
<br />
Now? My hormones decide to kick in again now, in the middle of a shooting lesson! I berated myself. But no, this was different wasn't it? This wasn't the same giggly girlish adolescent flutter I experienced around Sargent Marks. This wasn't that awkward combination of pleasure and dread I knew so well. This was....I'm not sure what it was but it wasn't that.<br />
<br />
<br />
In my distraction I allowed my gun to dip downward and Walter, who had begun to step away, reached back out to correct it. Definitely different, I thought as that singular awareness washed back though me. Something else too. Relief. My body was relieved to have him back. It wanted him near. Craved the quiet strength of his frame and the physical warmth I could feel radiating from him all along my back.<br />
<br />
I inhaled deeply, taking in his scent. Oh my but he smelled good. Like fresh linen and spray starch and...Walter. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck and I had to lock my muscles to keep from shivering with pleasure.<br />
<br />
Oh my God, I thought. This is it. My hormones have finally pushed me over the edge. It was all I could do not collapse back into him and wallow in his heat. To throw myself into his arms and bury my nose into his neck right where his shirt collar met his throat and....<br />
<br />
Walter stepped back and frowned at me. I was bereft. I bit my lip to keep from whimpering. I felt disoriented and a bit dizzy and my fingers tingled. Strange I thought. It was almost like the time when... I snapped my eyes shut and cast
about suspiciously but could find no trace of the supernatural. <br />
<br />
"Ms. Doyle." Asked Walter. "Are you quite well?"<br />
<br />
I blinked up at him to clear my vision. I shook my head, then nodded, then shook my head. "I don't know." I whispered. "I think I have a headache." I evaded, then realized I wasn't lying.<br />
<br />
He gave me a long assessing look. "We've covered a great deal this evening, perhaps this would be a good place to stop."<br />
<br />
I chewed my lip with indecision. My body really, really wanted to stay and figure this thing out but my mind really, really, really thought this was a bad idea and that we should leave before making a total cake of ourselves. I cast the deciding vote in my brain's favour and forced myself to nod in agreement.<br />
<br />
I turned without prompting to unload and clean my pistol. Walter gave me an approving look then began tending to his weapon as well.<br />
<br />
We continued our tasks in companionable silence and oddly enough, even though I remained acutely aware of Walter's masculinity, I felt neither awkward nor uncomfortable. Quite the opposite actually. Even when he came near to inspect my work, I just felt a bit of a happy buzz.<br />
<br />
It wasn't until he handed me a glass of water and some pills and had turned away to secure the cases in the gun locker that it occurred to me that the very fact that I wasn't flustered or panicking despite my new found appreciation of Walter the male was in and of itself a suspicious anomaly to my general reaction to the gender bordering on the, dare I say, unnatural.<br />
<br />
I sighed and looked over at him. He was very handsome and not just in an uptight English butler sort of way. Perhaps it was the accent I've always found British accents quite sexy. But then again, I was hardly pining over Stewart now was I? Perhaps cultured English accents... I thought but became pleasantly derailed when he turned to me with a look of kind concern and I turned into a puddle of goo.<br />
<br />
Must exit the situation I thought, giving myself a mental shake. I popped the pills and swallowed down a big gulp of water. I made my apologies and fled as quickly as possible. Declining his offer to escort me back to the main house.<br />
<br />
I had to think about this. No brownies tonight, no party, not even Seras. I had to be alone for awhile. I had to think. And if I found out Alucard's tinkering was behind this, I would...I would...well that was something I would have to think on as well.</div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-52243660250400640542013-06-06T17:06:00.001-04:002013-06-16T16:00:41.291-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LXI<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We finished early at the motor pool so Bulls and Anders offered to walk me over to the firing range where I was to meet Walter for my first shooting lesson. As we entered the concrete bunker, I could hear the sounds of jeering laughter and smack talk interspersed with the crack of small arms fire. Apparently the Geese were still at their drills.<br />
<br />
When we asked why they they were running so late, Burnadett made some crack about Marks looking for an excuse to show off his big, shiny weapon. There followed a lively and extremely ribald discussion between the sergeant and the captain over who's weapon I should be shown first along with detailed descriptions of what each thought of the "range", "Caliber" and "barrel length" of the other's weapon, not to mention power and technique. They even managed to make the topic of "rimfire" vs. "Centerfire" sound dirty and I don't even know what that is.<br />
<br />
I was doing a pretty good job of pointedly ignoring the exchange until Sherman, who had shown me just the other evening how to field strip, clean and reassemble his Varmint, had to open his big mouth and mention that I was already pretty good at handling a weapon. Not fire it mind you, he helpfully added but I could strip it like a pro. The ensuing comments such as; "Liebst, you wound me, handling another man's weapon.", "He let you touch his Remington? you are a special girl." and of course my favourite, "Why don't you come over here and strip my weapon." made me wish whole heartedly that I had a loaded gun in my hands at that very moment. <br />
<br />
I crossed my arms and sniffed disdainfully, commenting that little boys with delusions of grandeur might often boast but real men did not have to. I then stuck my nose in the air and, tossing a request over my shoulder to please let me know when the actual men arrived, prepared to flounce gracefully from the room but Marks simply chuckled and herded me instead towards the lanes. "God I love a feisty woman." He rumbled as he crowded me into a shooting booth.<br />
<br />
While the others looked on with great interest, Marks showed me how to load and insert the magazine but stepped back a bit warily when I clicked off the safety and pulled back the slide. They had all heard the story of my first and only ill fated attempt to learn to fire a gun so I could hardly blame them.<br />
<br />
I could, however, blame them all, especially Marks, for the embarrassing farce my second lesson became.<br />
<br />
Oh yes, I could definitely blame Sgt. Marks. <br />
<br />
The first few rounds I fired actually hit the target but that was mostly because Marks was wrapped around me like a second skin and doing most of the aiming. When I finally elbowed him off he proceeded to do everything in his power to distract me such as brushing imaginary dust from my back and shoulders and leaning over to whisper "helpful" little suggestions in my ear while I tried to take aim.<br />
<br />
The rest of the Geese were almost as bad. They never laid a hand on me but kept hollering out tips and making rude animal noises just as I prepared to pull the trigger. When I informed them in no uncertain terms that they were not helping, they enthusiastically agreed.<br />
<br />
I should have been annoyed but the noises were actually kind of amusing and Marks' over the top flirting was making me blush and go all giggly girlie, which is so out of character for me that I could appreciate the novelty. So no big surprise that the majority of my shots were wildly off mark and even when I did hit a target it was just as likely to be one from a different lane. Of course, on those rare occasions when I actually managed to hit my own target, just the paper mind you not necessarily the actual figure, the Geese all cheered enthusiastically and belted out snatches of the theme from "Rocky".<br />
<br />
I was actually managing to tune out Zelig's surprisingly realistic rooster crows and Griffin's repeated shouts of 'Adrian!' and was just squinting down the sights to line up what I was sure would finally be a spectacular kill shot when a large male hand swooped down to squeeze my bottom. I squawked and fired off my spectacular "kill shot" into the ceiling. Unthinkingly, I rounded on Marks and began poking him furiously in the chest. "Just what do you think your up to?" I shouted indignantly.<br />
<br />
"Careful Chanson," Called Burnadett. "you could hurt someone with that thing."<br />
<br />
I squeaked in alarm and looked down ...at my empty hands and then up at Marks who stood smugly in front of me holding the gun he had obviously plucked from my fingers without my noticing. "Looking for something?" He asked innocently.<br />
<br />
The Geese burst out laughing.<br />
<br />
"You...You!..." I snarled poking him even harder in the chest. "Urhug!" I said giving up and shoving him away.<br />
<br />
"Ow." Said Marks rubbing his chest where I'd poked him."<br />
<br />
This just made the Geese laugh harder.<br />
<br />
"Oh, I hate you all." I said without much venom, more embarrassed than angry.<br />
<br />
"Come now just a little fun liebst. Let's try again, I promise to behave." Said Marks with an insincere gleam in his eye.<br />
<br />
He reached for my waist and I slapped his hand away. "Yeah right." I muttered stepping back.<br />
<br />
We all laughed at that one.<br />
<br />
A quiet but firm clearing of the throat rang from the doorway, effectively silencing the room.<br />
<br />
Walter walked in placid as ever on the surface but psychically radiating disapproval in that way only English butlers can. Even Zelig looked impressed.<br />
<br />
His gazed locked on Sgt. Marks and the temperature of the aether notched down a few more degrees. "Interesting training technique sergeant." He said. "Quite....unconventional." <br />
<br />
Marks grinned with false humour. "I find it useful to train my men to be able to fire accurately regardless of the distraction."<br />
<br />
"I see." Said Walter coolly. "And the fondling, is this one of the standard distractions you use on your men or just your special brand of bonding within the ranks?"<br />
<br />
Marks' grin remained fixed but his eyes flashed with anger. <br />
<br />
"Their aim may not improve," Continued Walter. "but they will certainly learn to watch their backs."<br />
<br />
My jaw dropped. <br />
<br />
"Du alte Sau." Said Marks quietly, stepping forward with blood in his eye his grin now a death rictus.<br />
<br />
Burnadett quickly stepped between them. "Come now m'sieur Walter, it was just a bit of fun." He said jovially.<br />
<br />
"Ah," Said Walter looking pointedly at the gun Marks had snatched from me. "with a loaded weapon no less. How very...jocular."<br />
<br />
Burnadett's expression managed to remain friendly but firmed. "M'sieur Walter, you and I both know that not one man in this room, would ever endanger a hair on our Chanson's head."<br />
<br />
There was a brief, tension filled pause then Walter nodded. "Not knowingly, no." He conceded. "But I must insist that future, Ms. Doyle's firearms training be left to me. I find your Sergeant's methods a bit too avant-garde for my peace of mind."<br />
<br />
Burnadett held up a hand to stay Marks' retort. "Of course." He agreed. "Just as you have never interfered with training and discipline with my men, I can but extend you the same courtesy."<br />
<br />
The two men nodded their agreement.<br />
<br />
"Speaking of which, I believe we had a run through the obstacle course scheduled for this evening did we not Sergeant?"<br />
<br />
Marks nodded stiffly.<br />
<br />
"Well perhaps we should go and leave them to it. Sooner started sooner finished." Said Burnadett briskly.<br />
<br />
"Thank you Captain." Said Walter.<br />
<br />
"Of course." Said the Captain brightly. "Because the sooner Corrine finishes her training, the sooner she can join tonight's party in the barracks no?" He asked glancing at Marks.<br />
<br />
"Why of course," Said Marks expansively without missing a beat. "As I recall Corrine, you were to bring.."<br />
<br />
"Brownies!" Shouted Zelig excitedly.<br />
<br />
"Precisely." Marks agreed. "Wasn't that right Corrine?" He asked me with an expectant look on his face.<br />
<br />
We all knew there was no party planned and I would normally resent being placed in such an awkward position but Walter's comments had moved beyond high handed to, for lack of a better word, downright catty. One glance at Marks confirmed that he fully expected me to back him up and I just hadn't the heart to ding his pride any further. "Um, yes?" I said trying to sound sincere. He reached out and patted my shoulder to show he appreciated the effort. <br />
<br />
"Well I do not care if you bring brownies or no, just as long as you remember to bring me mon carotte." Said Burnedett.<br />
<br />
"I'll ask her."<br />
<br />
"Bon. Then, let us go." He said looking at his men and jerking his head toward the door. The Geese began to shuffle out.<br />
<br />
"Tonight then." Said Marks brushing my cheek with a finger. He narrowed his eyes at Walter. "butler." Sniffed Marks barely civil.<br />
<br />
"Sergeant." Intoned Walter. So civilly as to be just this side of insult.<br />
<br />
Burnadett elbowed in to take my hand and, removing the cigarette from his lips, bent his head to brush a kiss across my knuckles. "Please do not forget to bring my snack." He winked.<br />
<br />
"Or my brownies!" Demanded Zelig.<br />
<br />
Marks made a disgusted noise and grabbed Zelig by the collar.<br />
<br />
"With walnuts!" He shouted as the sergeant hauled him out the door.<br />
<br />
"My boys, they do like their treats no?" Chuckled Burnadett. He waived his hand in lazy cheerful salute and strolled out the door to join his men. <br />
<br />
A few last comments rang down the corridor to us. I managed to catch: "Your not going to serve that pig piss you call beer again are you Sherman?", "I did tell her walnuts didn't I?", "Party? No one told me about no party. Ow! Searg. What was that for?" and a growling "Shut it, the lot of you!" before the sound faded away up the stairs and silence descended upon the range.<br />
<br />
There's been many the occasion when Walter and I have shared a comfortable, companionable silence.... This was not one of them.<br />
<br />
I tiled my head and looked at him, wanting very much to ask him why he had said those things to Sergeant Marks. I mean I knew they did not much care for each other and Walter's comments could, on occasion, be biting but he had never been so openly rude not even when Alucard baited him. It just seemed so unlike him. But one glance at his steely countenance told me my enquiry would be most unwelcome.<br />
<br />
I turned and started to tidy the scoring tables as much to avoid his stare as to give myself something to do but I could still feel him watching and waiting.<br />
<br />
The tense silence stretched out between us until I thought I might scream. <br />
<br />
Once the scoring tables were immaculate, I turned my attention to the firing booth only to be caught out by Walter's laser like gaze.<br />
<br />
"Fine!" I said. Throwing up my hands in surrender. "I'm sorry OK?"<br />
<br />
"Ms. Doyle," Said Walter on an unvoiced sigh. "My intention was not to wring that sincere if grudging apology from you but to give you time to emotionally separate yourself from the situation and decide you are ready to hear what I have to say."<br />
<br />
"Which is?" <br />
<br />
He eyed me for a moment assessing then said, "I have spent a lifetime Ms. Doyle around guns, both making and using them and have trained countless others in their use and do you know what the most important thing I teach them is? First and foremost I teach them to respect their weapon so as not to be a danger to themselves and more importantly, the other members of their unit.<br />
<br />
A poor shot is a waste of ammunition to be sure but a careless shot can do just as much damage as the enemy. More if you consider the impact on morale." He paused a moment for emphasis. "What I witnessed tonight was a shocking lack of respect for the weapon you held in your hand."<br />
<br />
I almost apologized again then thought better of it. <br />
<br />
"Now, while you are no fool, your actions tonight were both foolish and dangerous. But, much as your behaviour distressed me I feel compelled to point out that I found Sergeant Marks' actions in this matter wholly inexcusable" <br />
<br />
He held up a hand to still my instinctive defensive reaction (he so has me pegged). "While I would have hoped for you to know better than to handle a gun in such a manner, I know Sergeant Marks knows better. He chose to step in unbidden and act as your instructor. He chose to indulge in that ridiculous farce of a lesson encouraging sloppy and dangerous habits. The fact that he felt he was in control of the entire situation only makes matters worse. His disregard of safety protocols shows a lack of respect both to you as his student and to himself as an instructor. His overall ambivalence to his continued existence aside, he selfishly exposed you and others to unnecessary risk and that, Ms. Doyle, I find unforgivable.<br />
<br />
"What you must now decide Ms. Doyle is whether you wish to staunchly defend your friend, right or wrong, telling me as you have been longing to that I was unforgivably rude before you leave or accept that, likeable as you find him, his actions were counter-productive and unsafe and we can move on."<br />
<br />
I chewed my lip thoughtfully then sighed. What could I say? 'You're wrong Walter. Goosing a student is a perfectly standard and widely accepted method of training on the firing range.' ? I'm sure Marks had meant no harm but, gads!, swinging about with a loaded gun in my hands, what had I been thinking? Walter, drat him was, as usual, right.<br />
<br />
"Yes Walter." I said. "I think we can move on."<br />
<br />
"Very good." He said. Feathers no longer ruffled. placid demeanor restored in full. "This, I must say," he said nodding towards my hands. "Seems an excellent start."<br />
<br />
I glanced down a the table where, to keep my nervous hands busy during Walter's lecture, I had stripped, cleaned and reassembled the .22 without really thinking about it.<br />
<br />
"May I?" Asked Walter. <br />
<br />
I nodded and he picked up the pistol, broke it down and examined my work. "Not bad." He said. "If you please." He said gesturing to the broken down gun.<br />
<br />
I reached down and quickly reassembled it. "I am impressed." He said. "Where did you learn this?"<br />
<br />
"Billy taught me."<br />
<br />
"Corporal Sherman?" He asked.<br />
<br />
"Yes." I grinned. "He says I'm like Forrest Gump when it comes to weapons."<br />
<br />
Walter gave me a blank look.<br />
<br />
"You know, Forrest Gump as in Forrest Gump?" I prodded.<br />
<br />
"Never met the man." Said Walter poker faced.<br />
<br />
I narrowed my eyes, unsure if he was messing with me. He did that a lot. Still, mass market entertainment was probably not a high priority on his to do list. I sighed. "Real good at taking them apart and cleaning them but your not sure if you should let him shoot one?"<br />
<br />
"I see." Said Walter non-committally. "So Corporal Sherman is equating you to this gentleman?"<br />
<br />
"Well, yes."<br />
<br />
"The man shows hidden depth."<br />
<br />
I Humphed. "He's very picky about his weapons is all. Treats them like they're his babies."<br />
<br />
"As well he should." Said Walter. "They are not just the tools of his livelihood, for him they can mean the difference between life and death."<br />
<br />
"Yes, I know but he names them."<br />
<br />
"Not terribly uncommon."<br />
<br />
"And sings to them at night."<br />
<br />
"Ah." Said Walter. "He sounds rather attached."<br />
<br />
"Mmmm." I agreed.<br />
<br />
"I am surprised he let you handle them."<br />
<br />
"Long story." I said. "Let's just say Trudy, Basil, Squirrelly and Esther Mae all now have a new line up of bedtime songs."<br />
<br />
He gave me an incredulous look.<br />
<br />
I gazed back with wide eyed innocence. 'Never met the man.' My foot. Let him wonder for once.<br />
<br />
"Hmmm." He said neutrally but the tension in the room had defiantly decreased. "Well then Ms. Doyle, shall we begin your lession?"<br />
<br />
"Yes Walter!" I said happily reaching for the pistol. Walter deftly removed it from my grasp and carried it over to the gun locker. <br />
<br />
"I thought perhaps we might start with some safety drills." He said holding up a headset and a pair of shooting glasses.<br />
<br />
I groaned inwardly. "Yes Walter." I said with slightly less enthusiasm. This was going to be a long night.</div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-53077912902021314792013-05-25T07:41:00.002-04:002013-06-06T16:57:33.926-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LX<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Seras yelped in terror and dodged behind Dr. Levin who had entered the room with her, just in time to avoid the plasma bag Alucard threw at her head. It hit the door frame with tremendous force and
ruptured, spewing blood everywhere.<br />
<br />
"But she burned me with..." Protested Seras.<br />
<br />
"I
don't care if she hacks off your arm with pruning shears. Your duty,
first and foremost, is to protect her physical well being even at the
cost of your own miserable existence. She is expensive and breakable
and she is not, I repeat not ever to be hurled, tossed or bowled like a cricket ball at
the bails! Is that completely understood?"<br />
<br />
"Yes
master." She she mumbled petulantly then squeaked and ducked back behind poor Dr. Levin, who was
wiping gorey splatter off of his face and looking thoroughly
confused, as a second plasma bag flew through the air.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Now see here." Sputtered Levin, as he peeled the bag's carcass from the front of his jacket.<br />
<br />
"I suggest you step aside Dr." Said Alucard reaching for another bag. "Someone's attitude needs adjusting."<br />
<br />
"Leave her alone, this is all your fault not hers!" I shouted. Then it was my turn to squeak as a hand reached out and yanked me to one side just in time. The plasma bag sailed past just inches from my right ear and hit the bulletin board with a sickening splat.<br />
<br />
"Ms. Doyle, I believe we've had this discussion about your temper." Said Walter as he deftly inserted me behind his back. "Miss Victoria is more than capable of fighting her own battles. The sooner she learns to do so, the fewer civilian casualties there will be all round." He said gesturing towards Dr. Levin.<br />
<br />
"Speaking of casualties Walter," Said Alucard. "unless you
wish to become one, I suggest you no longer be standing between me and my mouthy,
insubordinate little creation." <br />
<br />
Walter stared stonily at Alucard.<br />
<br />
"Move Walter, I'm suppressing a rebellion here."<br />
<br />
"We both know I can't do that Alucard."<br />
<br />
"Can't or won't."<br />
<br />
"They are one in the same for me."<br />
<br />
"Bit long in the tooth to play Sir Galahad aren't you old man?"<br />
<br />
"Perhaps."<br />
<br />
"You know better than to step between me and what is mine Walter."<br />
<br />
"When in training, she is yours but in these rooms, in this house she is in my care. I suggest you stand down."<br />
<br />
"Do you now? How, interesting. And if I refuse?"<br />
<br />
"Then we are at an impasse."<br />
<br />
"Interesting." Drawled Alucard. His body language was absolutely relaxed but there was a wicked, gleeful glint in his eye. "However shall we break it?"<br />
<br />
"I think perhaps...Stay where you are Ms. Doyle." Said Walter, thwarting my attempts to step out from behind him.<br />
<br />
"Please Walter, this isn't necessary."<br />
<br />
"I believe it is."<br />
<br />
"No, really. This is getting out of hand."<br />
<br />
"Quiet lab rat, the adults are talking." Said Alucard.<br />
<br />
"But..."<br />
<br />
"Don't meddle in things that are not your concern." He added, waiving off my protest with a casual gesture. His eyes never left Walter's. He smiled with insincere politeness. "Now, where were we?"<br />
<br />
"At an impasse as I recall." Replied Walter in an equally calm and dispassionate tone as if they were simply discussing the weather.<br />
<br />
"Ah, yes." Purred Alucard. "I do so enjoy a good impasse Walter don't you? When the possibility of civil discourse falls away and the only recourse left is the creative and strategic use of brute force. To strip away at that false patina of the opponents humanity until there remains only the snarling ravenous beast. That is where you separate the wolf," He said indicating himself. "From the dog." He flicked his fingers in Walter's direction. "That," He said straightening up from the wall with an evil grin. "is where you decide who is the alpha." <br />
<br />
"That," Came a cool voice from the doorway. "Would be me." Sir Integra stepped into the lab, gingerly skirting the plasma splatter. She surveyed the occupants of the room with a critical eye then continued. "I am in charge. I am the wolf, the alpha bitch and I am not...pleased." <br />
<br />
She looked around the lab once more. "Walter, I believe I instructed you to prepare the samples for Dr. Levin's arrival, has this been done?"<br />
<br />
"No ma'am." Said Walter. "My apologies."<br />
<br />
She sniffed disdainfully. "Then perhaps you should do so now?"<br />
<br />
"Ma'am" Said Walter, stiffly turning on his heel and striding over to the lab table.<br />
<br />
I opened my mouth but she flashed me a warning look that had me shutting it right back up again.<br />
<br />
"And you." She said to Alucard. "Why is it that I can not seem to leave you alone in a room with others for more than five minutes without some sort of carnage ensuing?" She sighed. "At least no one died this time." She glanced at the blood spattered walls. "Did they?"<br />
<br />
"Alas no, master."<br />
<br />
Her mouth twitched a bit but then she fixed him with her narrow glare. "When I find out what happened here and I will find out what happened, I had better not hear that this was some sort of power play between you and Walter. We have had this discussion more than once. While you will always be treated with every courtesy do not forget your place. I am the master, I say who is in charge. The house is Walter's, the battlefield is yours. I will not have my servants holding pissing contests on my rug. You will learn to deal with it or I will do it for you. Is that understood?"<br />
<br />
"As you say. You are, for now, the master. I can not but obey."<br />
<br />
She nodded briskly and turned back to me. "Somehow Doyle," She said coldly. "I just know this is your fault."<br />
<br />
"Now just a minute here..." I began but was interrupted by a small voice which said:<br />
<br />
"No ma'am, it's mine."<br />
<br />
Sir Integra turned to look at Seras. "You said something Victoria?"<br />
<br />
"Yes ma'am. I said that it's my fault."<br />
<br />
"What is your fault?"<br />
<br />
"This." Said Seras. "All of this." She waived her arm around the room. "If I hadn't of panicked when Corrine's tears burned me Walter would not have had to step in to protect her. Everyone would have been less upset. The master was right to be angry with me."<br />
<br />
"No Seras, " I cried. "It's his fault, not yours. It's him and his stupid games!"<br />
<br />
"No Corrine." Said Seras sadly. "Don't you see? He's right. I am a vampire it doesn't matter the provocation, I can not afford to overreact and I must never raise my hand against a member of this house." She looked down at her afore mentioned hands and said quietly. "Especially you."<br />
<br />
"But he." I began but she raised a hand to stop me. <br />
<br />
"No Corrine." She said firmly. "There are no excuses. You are my sister." A wistful expression crossed her face followed by firm resolve. "I have a sister and I will die to protect her."<br />
<br />
Sir Integra raised an eyebrow. "Die?" <br />
<br />
"Well, again." She said sheepishly running a hand through her hair.<br />
<br />
"Aww, Seras," I said choking up a bit. "come here." She rushed over to hug me then dangled me at arms length.<br />
<br />
"You're not going to cry on me again are you?" She asked suspiciously.<br />
<br />
"No." I snuffled. <br />
<br />
Sir Integra gave me a very hopeful look. <br />
<br />
"No." I said with more conviction.<br />
<br />
She shrugged.<br />
<br />
Pounding steps sounded in the corridor moving toward the lab. I could just make out Andrew's voice echoing off the walls. "....won't tell a soul Miss Pringle I swear so call him off! Please Miss Pringle I swaaaarr!!!" Andrew had burst through the doorway running at full speed. Unfortunatly, he had his head turned back towards his pursuit and did not see the mess all over the floor. He slipped on a particularly gruesome puddle, fell on his behind and skidded to a halt right at Alucard's feet.<br />
<br />
He shook his head a couple of times, reached up to brush his hair from his face and just then seemed to notice the blood covering his hand. "Gah!" He said. Then, "Gah!" again even louder as Alucard reached down to lift him up by the front of his shirt.<br />
<br />
Alucard sniffed then cocked his head. "B negative." He sighed. "Not really one of my favourites. Pity." He winked at Andrew and grinned.<br />
<br />
"Glick." Replied Andrew.<br />
<br />
"Alucard," Began Sir Integra but she was cut off by a skull splitting shriek.<br />
<br />
Nurse Pringle stood in the doorway, hat askew, eyes round as dinner plates and mouth wide open in a scream. And what a scream it was. The noise emanating from her was both piercing and grating and very, very loud. I am sure dogs across three counties were howling.<br />
<br />
Which would explain why she probably didn't respond to Sir Integra's shouted. "Shut it Pringle, your making our eyes bleed!"<br />
<br />
Griffin, who must have been guarding the lab level this evening, charged through the door weapon drawn and blood in his eye. He stopped short next to nurse Pringle, looked around with a puzzled frown, holstered his gun and clapped a hand over the banshee's mouth.<br />
<br />
"Well done Griffin ." Drawled Sir Integra. "Our eardrums owe you a debt of gratitude." <br />
<br />
"Any time ma'am." Said Griffin looking down at nurse Pringle and smirking. He hissed slightly and pulled his hand from her mouth, then smiled and gently kissed the deep bite marks on his palm.<br />
<br />
Nurse Pringle growled then humphed and began straightening out her hat.<br />
<br />
Alucard chuckled and gently lowered Andrew to his feet. "Ah," He said. "Young love."<br />
<br />
Andrew blanched and sank down onto a stool.<br />
<br />
Griffin smiled lazily and idlely scratched his cheek while glancing round the room again. He squinted at the bloody bulletin board and stiffened. "Shi-ooot." He swore softly. "Zelig is going to go totally freakin mental when he sees this."<br />
<br />
</div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-20613843469233634962013-05-18T01:23:00.001-04:002013-05-21T13:18:45.176-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LIX<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I bent down to look into the eyepiece.<br />
<br />
"Oh" I said. Then, more softly. "Oh."<br />
<br />
I was looking at a slide quite similar to the first with the notable exception of a blurry area in the upper right hand corner as if someone had smudged the lens. As I watched, the blurry section expanded and flowed out over the sample. As it spread, it seemed to be coating those horrible "spinners" with a shiny, opalescent film.<br />
<br />
Thus hindered, the spinning of the pathogens slowed, then stopped. Their scythe-like protrusions shrinking back into their bodies as if attempting to escape from the coating, squeezing themselves smaller and smaller until they resembled tiny glass beads glinting in the bloodstream.<br />
<br />
The shredded white blood cells appeared to be healing themselves, gathering their tattered remnants together then surrounding and absorbing the now disarmed and tiny pathogens at a leisurely pace. The few remaining red blood cells began to plump up and grow bigger turning a healthy bright red, shiny and full of life. Soon not a single spinner, alive or dead, remained.<br />
<br />
Words failed me so I settled on saying "Oh." one last time, feeling a bit of a moron but my head was spinning with the implications of what I'd just seen. I gripped the the table with my free hand to steady myself. "I'm doing that?" I asked pressing the hand still holding my iPod against my chest. I looked up from the microscope and tapped the iPod against my chest nervously. "My tears are doing that?"<br />
<br />
Three heads nodded in unison.<br />
<br />
A thrill of joy shot with terror ran through me. My tears had done that? I touched my cheek thoughtfully.<br />
<br />
"But how?" I asked with a bit of a tremor.<br />
<br />
I should be over the moon happy right now but... But I could speak telepathically to vampires. I healed faster than I should. When I sang, I made others feel my emotions not to mention tap into, even blow up, electronic equipment. And now, when I cried, my tears burned vampire flesh, killed the deadly pathogens they mutated from their blood. Cold, cruel, vampire blood. Some of which ran through my veins. What was I becoming? What was Alucard turning me into?<br />
<br />
Not dead. Not undead. Not necessarily human.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Alucard chortled smugly through my mind. <span style="color: #274e13;"> <i>"That's right Angel."</i> </span> He sent. <i><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="color: #274e13;">"I may not be remaking you in my own image but I am remaking you."</span> </span></i>Aloud he said. "Love."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"What?" Asked Sir Integra.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Love." He repeated.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"I don't understand." She said.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Of course not." He smirked. "We are, after all, talking about love."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Oh as if you possibly could." </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
"Ah my dear master, that is where you are wrong. I may be incapable of love but that does not mean I do not understand how to manipulate it. I need not feel an emotion to wield its power in others. And love, for humans anyway, is a very powerful emotion."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"So she blubbers love all over people and this will cure a vampire bite?" She sneered. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"So cynical." He tsked. "Your own God used love to create the world yet you fail to believe that I could use love to de-construct a molecular fragment? I am distressed by your lack of faith." </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
She snorted. "I doubt it. Now tell me how does this love-fest work?"</div>
<br />
He pretended to look hurt but complied. "It's quite simple actually. As you know, it is the initiation of blood lust, not the vampire's saliva itself, that triggers the mutation. The saliva acting more as a medium for storage and delivery. My blood blood runs through the Angel's veins which means the potential trigger lies within her as well. Just one of many gifts I have given her." He smiled at my involuntary shiver and continued. "It was a mere matter of altering her hormones and brain chemistry to activate the trigger during certain heightened emotional states but instead of mutating a pathogen she generates antigens and instead of saliva I used her tears." He spread his hands as if he has just explained he obvious. <br />
<br />
"Those 'certain' emotional states being?"<br />
<br />
"Love."<br />
<br />
"Back to that are we?"<br />
<br />
"Of course." <br />
<br />
"But why? Wouldn't it be easier to have made negative emotions the trigger? It would certainly be easier to generate the tears."<br />
<br />
"No, tears of pain or self pity are just that, tears but tears born of love, these hold power. Power that I can manipulate, power that I can use. Besides," He said smiling smugly. "What challenge is there in making sadness the trigger? Pain and sorrow are all to easy. I never do easy."<br />
<br />
"Hmmm." She said sceptically. "I still don't see you voluntarily doing positive emotions, regardless of the challenge."<br />
<br />
"He's not." I said.<br />
<br />
He raised an eyebrow at me. <br />
<br />
"It's part of the deal isn't it? Part of the bargain that was made that night?"<br />
<br />
"There may have been a few ground rules, yes."<br />
<br />
"Ha!"<br />
<br />
"But I gladly accepted the challenge. <i><span style="color: #274e13;">Just think,"</span></i> He sent cutting off my triumph. <span style="color: #274e13;"><i>"How much sweeter it will be to crush your spirit using your own capacity to love against you and do not doubt me Angel, I will."</i></span><br />
<br />
I narrowed my eyes but refused to look away.<br />
<br />
"You say production of the antigen is triggered by heightened positive emotions?" Asked Walter.<br />
<br />
"Yes." Confirmed Alucard.<br />
<br />
This would explain the first instance this evening when Ms. Doyle expressed her happiness over her gift earlier but..."<br />
<br />
"Joy." Corrected Alucard.<br />
<br />
"I beg your pardon?" Asked Walter.<br />
<br />
"She was experiencing joy." <br />
<br />
"Very well then, I understand then how the trigger might have activated when Ms. Doyle expressed joy but this would not explain why the antigens were still present in her tears after Ms. Victoria was injured and we had brought them both to the laboratory. Do the antigens continue to be produced for a period even after the emotion has ceased?"<br />
<br />
No, it is quite transient."<br />
<br />
"Then how is it there were antigens still present in the samples that were taken after Miss Victoria's unfortunate reaction in the bedroom. Surely Ms. Doyle was not experiencing any positive emotions after being hurled against a wall?"<br />
<br />
"In fact she was. He tears were not for herself but for the Police girl. She was crying for Seras' pain." <br />
<br />
"So her concern over Miss Victoria..."<br />
<br />
"No, not concern."<br />
<br />
"Compassion then."<br />
<br />
"No, no! Not 'compassion', empathy."<br />
<br />
"Are the semantics so important then?"<br />
<br />
"They are vital. The difference between life and death." Alucard turned to me shaking his head. "Poor Walter, he just does not understand but how can he? He is rarely happy and I doubt he has ever experienced joy. He is noble enough to understand compassion but hasn't the humanity to experience empathy. No Angel, of the occupants of this room, I fear you alone are able to feel true joy or empathy because you alone have the capacity to love."<br />
<br />
Sir Integra opened her mouth to object but Alucard held up a finger. "Unselfishly." She frowned and compressed her lips but said nothing.<br />
<br />
"No dear master, do not frown. I have handed you the key to your self imposed prison. No more ghouls wearing the Hellsing badge. No more fear of turning. No more having to shoot your own men." He locked gazes with her. "We may be heartless you and I but we can rejoice in your triumph. You faith in me has led to this."<br />
<br />
Her eyes blazed with an almost unholy ferver.<br />
<br />
Walter frowned slightly but quickly smoothed it over. "This is a major breakthrough." He agreed. <br />
<br />
"Even now," Said Alucard gesturing to me. "The Angel is not certain whether to yell at me for calling you heartless or cry over Walter's never feeling joy."<br />
<br />
Sir Integra looked over at me her eyes still glowing with that intense light. "Cry." She said emphatically.<br />
<br />
I snorted derisively and sent a mental apology to Alucard for doubting his 'heartless' comment.<br />
<br />
He chuckled quietly and said. "I am occasionally truthful, when it suits my purpose."<br />
<br />
"What is that supposed to mean?" Asked Sir Integra as she continued to glower at me. "And why isn't she crying?"<br />
<br />
I crossed my arms and glowered right back. "It means you need to work on your people skills."<br />
<br />
<br />
Alucard grinned widely and I swear I saw Walter's mouth twitch slightly with amusement.<br />
<br />
Sir Integra blinked once then said drily. "Not really part of my job description." <br />
<br />
I bit my lip to keep from laughing.<br />
<br />
She turned to Walter. "Make her cry."<br />
<br />
"Ma'am?"<br />
<br />
She glance disgustedly at Alucard then added. "But in a positive way."<br />
<br />
Walter tilted his head and looked at me. "Perhaps," He said soberly. "a sad story involving a puppy? Or, I could tune the radio to a country and western station." <br />
<br />
<br />
I pressed my hand to my mouth to hold the giggles in but several escaped out around my fingers.<br />
<br />
<br />
"No!" She shouted. "We're going in the wrong direction."<br />
<br />
That did it. I burst out laughing stumbling back to collapse onto a lab stool. I laughed so hard tears began leaking out of my eyes.<br />
<br />
Relief flooded through me. Who cared if Alucard's blood ran through my veins? He, himself had said I was still capable of love. As far as I was concerned that made me human enough, sod anyone who said otherwise. And if Alucard's blood gave me the ability to save others from the vampires curse, well that was a blessing, something to be grateful for not feared. As the weight of this evening's events lifted from my shoulders, I felt the tears begin to flow in earnest, tracing a hot, stinging path down my cheeks. I didn't try to stop them this time. I just laughed and let them go.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Ah ha!" Cried Sir Integra triumphantly then she leapt forward to hold me down while Walter deftly employed several pipettes to catch the tears streaming down my face.<br />
<br />
I tried to protest but the situation was just so ridiculous and when Alucard shook his head and said "Humans!" in a disgusted voice it only made me laugh harder. Even Sir Integra was grinning albeit in a very disturbing manner.<br />
<br />
<br />
Finally, the lack of oxygen forced me to wind down. Sir Integra released me at my gasped "Please." and I sat quietly hiccuping a bit as Walter sopped up the last of my tears.<br />
<br />
"I must confess Ms. Doyle," He said, handing me a handkerchief to dry my cheeks. "That while I have made many people cry over the years, this was quite the most novel."<br />
<br />
I grinned weakly up at him then wobbled my glance over to Sir Integra. She stood a couple of feet away watching Walter place the last of the pipettes into a plastic bin. Her face once again an emotionless mask. Well, so much for that. Warm and fuzzy moments just do not last long around here.<br />
<br />
As soon as Walter sealed the lid, she turned her blank stare on Alucard. "Will these work?'<br />
<br />
He looked up from a bag of plasma he had been idly toying with and said in a bored tone. "They won't be as strong as the first samples but they should do for your initial testing."<br />
<br />
"Hmmm." She said drumming her fingers on the table top. "We shall have to work on getting more." She narrowed her eyes sizing up her project. I squirmed a bit. "Best keep her hydrated. Walter please make sure she drinks plenty of water."<br />
<br />
"Of course ma'am." Said Walter who was already handing me a glass.<br />
<br />
"Very good." She said. She pulled pulled out a cigar and glanced at the lab equipment then up at the digital clock on the bulletin board. "Dr. Levin will be here shortly. Prep the slides and have a demonstration set to go within fifteen minutes. I shall return in ten."<br />
<br />
"Very good ma'am." Said Walter.<br />
<br />
She nodded the, placing the cigar in her mouth and pulling out a lighter, turned on her heel and exited the room. <br />
<br />
Walter looked pointedly at my still full glass.<br />
<br />
I sighed resigned to my fate of a chronically full bladder. I took a sip. "I still don't see why you had to wait this long to tell us about this." I grumped at Alucard. I rubbed the aching spot between my eyes then tossed the pills Walter pressed into my hand into my mouth and washed them down with more water. "Seras was hurt and Walter and I could been killed."<br />
<br />
"Bah!" Said Alucard disgustedly. "Are you still blathering on about that? I make you into a medical miracle and you sit there whining over my methodology? You are a pig headed, ungrateful little worm. I often why I even bother with you." He paused mid-sneer then said. "You are right about one thing however... You stupid, useless twit! HOW DARE YOU THROW YOUR SISTER ACROSS THE ROOM LIKE THAT!!!" He roared as Seras bounced into the lab. </div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-21127829093040233992013-02-12T17:19:00.003-05:002013-02-19T10:18:01.637-05:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LVIII<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We all turned to Walter who was rolling down his sleeve, a syringe of blood on the counter before him.<br />
<br />
"Finally." Breathed Alucard. "Someone brings something sensible to the game. Think you've figured it out old man?"<br />
<br />
"Some,
not all." Said Walter as he reattached his cuff link. He picked up the
syringe and turned to a set of blank slides. "I am still uncertain
what you mean by redemption, beyond being provoking and blasphemous that
is, but I believe I know how you intend this new revelation to be used defensively."<br />
<br />
"Do tell." Said Alucard sarcastically.<br />
<br />
"Shut it." Said Sir Integra. "I'm still annoyed with you."<br />
<br />
Instead
of getting angry, Alucard looked mildly pleased. I guess we were
finally trending in the direction he wished us to go. Or maybe he just
likes mean women.<br />
<br />
Walter simply ignored the rude
remark. "While Ms. Doyle's tears most definitely have an extremely
caustic effect on vampire flesh," He said as he continued to process the
slides. "They seem to have no negative effect on normal human tissue and only a mild
irritation, similar to rosacea, on her own. Quite the opposite
actually, her tears may possibly contain certain healing qualities." He
paused a moment to retrieve one of the pipettes and Seras' samples.<br />
<br />
We waited expectantly for him to continue.<br />
<br />
"What,"
He asked as he added a small drop of some clear liquid to the blood on two of the slides. "is
the gravest danger our officers face when fighting a vampire or a
ghoul?" <br />
<br />
"Being bitten." Said Sir Integra her eyes flashing with some unholy emotion. "Or chipped." She continued with distaste.<br />
<br />
"Precisely."
Said Walter, his steely eyes reflecting Sir Integra's. "Once infected,
however they are infected, there is no saving them. They will turn."<br />
<br />
"Yes." Said Sir Integra flatly.<br />
<br />
"There is no cure Ms. Doyle," He continued, catching my eye. "Only living death or the mercy of a bullet to the head."<br />
<br />
"You suspect..." Began Sir Integra.<br />
<br />
He nodded.<br />
<br />
Her
face and demeanour were absolutely calm but I could practically feel
the emotions boiling beneath the surface. "Could it be possible?" She
said almost absently to herself. She watched intently as Walter added my tears to
one of the two 'infected' slides and slid them both into place in the
microscopes. Then, practically vibrating with tension, she strode purposefully over to where Walter stood. He made room for her and they silently took turns peering
into the different microscopes.<br />
<br />
Finally, they looked up from the
eyepieces and at each other. Sir Integra laid a hand on the microscope
containing the treated slide. "This could mean..."<br />
<br />
"Yes." Said Walter. "There of course must be more research but..."<br />
<br />
"Yes." She said.<br />
<br />
Their eyes locked and they spent several moments in wordless but obviously meaningful conversation. <br />
<br />
"So it's actually possible." She said with wonder bordering on awe. "I had almost given up."<br />
<br />
Walter's eyes softened a bit then he murmured something too low for me to hear.<br />
<br />
"...Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Finished Alucard. "Yes, yes" He said. "Very moving. Father would be so proud."<br />
<br />
Indifferent mask back in place, she turned to Alucard. "Feeling neglected are we?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.<br />
<br />
"Well,"
He said philosophically. "Not that I mind throwing the old dog a bone
once in a while but I believe the triumph is in fact mine."<br />
<br />
Her lips quirked a bit and she turned to Walter. "Well old man, apparently the light we currently bask in is Alucard."<br />
<br />
"A wonder one can see at all for the glare." Said Walter driely.<br />
<br />
"Better?" She asked Alucard.<br />
<br />
<br />
It was an oddly relaxed moment. Old and comfortable, almost a reminiscence. Even Alucard seemed inclined to play. <br />
<br />
<br />
"Well, I did in fact make her." He grumbled with mock petulance.<br />
<br />
<br />
"My parents might disagree." I muttered.<br />
<br />
"Ah, but that is where you are wrong my sulky little lab rat. Your parents may have conceived and birthed a child named Corrine Doyle but she perished that night in the theatre and was reborn. You, Angel, are my creation not theirs and the sooner you stop clinging to that poor, dead, pathetic creature you were and embrace what you have become, the happier we shall all be."<br />
<br />
"As always, trying to remake us in your image Alucard." Chortled Sir Integra.<br />
<br />
"Oh no," Said Alucard earnestly. "That is a privilege I reserve solely for you my dear master. Others, I simply 'improve'...or destroy."<br />
<br />
"Hmmm" She said non-committally. "It's hard to know whom to feel most sorry for in that scenario." <br />
<br />
He grinned. "The ones I improve, most definitely." He said winking at me. "Of course, it is often fun to do both." His grin broadened to a leer.<br />
<br />
"Pft." I said, waiving away the remark. Death threats were old news to me. "Yes, yes, wretched, ungrateful, balanced on the knife's edge between death and pain I know but will someone please just tell me what's going on?"<br />
<br />
"Saucy little baggage this evening aren't you?" He smirked. "And slow. Are you sure Walter didn't drop you on your head earlier? Your tears, dolt, are the weapon!"<br />
<br />
"Yes I know my tears are a weapon." I said patently refusing to rise to the bait. He, after all, called me 'dolt' so often that one might justifiably begin to suspect it merely a mispronunciation of my last name. "It is a fact that has been graphically demonstrated to me this evening thank you but how," I said emphasizing each word. "is this to be used as a defensive weapon?"<br />
<br />
"Oh I despair of you at times Angel. We just explained it all to you. Did you not hear a word?"<br />
<br />
"What explanation?" I demanded. "Walter said my tears burn vampires but not humans." I said jabbing my iPod in Walter's direction. "Sir Integra," I said swinging the device over towards her. "confirmed that being bitten or chipped is literally a fate worse than death. He" I swung my arm back to Walter. "Said, 'No cure Ms. Doyle. Best shoot them in the head.' Then they," I swung my iPod to indicate both Walter and Sir Integra. "both got really excited over the slides. There was a warm and fuzzy moment, then you two," My iPod glinted in the light as I swung my arm back and forth between Walter and Alucard. "quoted Hamlet!"<br />
<br />
"Precisely." Said Alucard. "I am not sure how one could make it clearer than that."<br />
<br />
"Maybe if you repeated it all in Morse code." I snarked.<br />
<br />
"You know, I'm beginning to like her." Said Sir Integra. <br />
<br />
"One has to admit she was listening." Said Walter drily. "Although I think the accent was a bit over the top."<br />
<br />
"Do you think so?" She asked. "I found it rather spot on if you ask me."<br />
<br />
Walter sniffed his opinion then said. "Perhaps, Ms. Doyle, it would expedite matters if you simply came over and examined the slides."<br />
<br />
I jumped down from the table and crossed over to the microscopes giving both Alucard and the first set of slides a wide berth. "All of them?" I asked, giving the first slides a look of distaste. <br />
<br />
Sir Integra frowned at my lack of scientific curiosity and Alucard, of course, sneered at my cowardice but Walter simply said; "No Ms. Doyle, not if you do not wish to. These," He said gesturing to two fresh slides he was preparing. "are the ones pertinent to your question."<br />
<br />
Cautiously, I peered into the eyepiece. I had seen blood sample slides before in biology class with their rubbery tire-like red blood cells, puffed, pollen-esk white and raggedy jaggedy platelets.<br />
<br />
But this slide had something more: For mixed into the bucolic blood stream were several horribly disturbing small objects. They were round but not quite circular as they had two scythe like protrusions extruding from their perimeter. They arched out then back in towards the body like scimitars or a satellite view of the arms of a hurricane the ends tapered and tipped cruelly like claws or thorns. Their colour was that of old, dead blood. <br />
<br />
They seemed to spin on some unseen current separate and faster than the other cells and as I watched, one of these "spinners" bumped into a red blood cell. Instantly, it spun itself until one of its scimitar arms slashed at the larger blood cell, its thorn-like tips easily penetrating and sinking into the surface. The object continued its rotation until it had spun itself completely inside the red blood cell.<br />
<br />
Within moments, the rich opaque red became transparent and the deadly object could be seen turning within. Faster and faster it spun the blood cell becoming clearer and clearer, rapidly draining from red to pink to blush until no colour remained. The spinning became blur of motion then suddenly, the empty shell burst apart and there, where moments before a healthy red blood cell had been, were two of those terrible objects rotating in unison. I gasped in horror as this little scene was repeating itself over and over throughout the slide The objects doubling themselves exponentially every few seconds. Any white blood cells attempting to halt the attack were shredded like tissue and the hapless platelets simply shattered on contact. <br />
<br />
"Dear God what are those things?" I asked. <br />
<br />
"They are a pathogen, mutated blood cells actually, which are carried within a vampire's saliva and introduced into the victim's blood stream upon being bitten. As you can see, they spread quite rapidly destroying the blood cells until the body can no longer carry oxygen and the tissues suffocate."<br />
<br />
<br />
"How horrible." I shuddered.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Yes." Agreed Walter. "It is the fortunate victim who is actually drained by the vampire as death occurs more swiftly."<br />
<br />
I shook my head and stepped back from the microscope as Walter prepared another slide. <br />
<br />
"The broken down components of the victim's blood are ingested to feed the vampire and the pathogens are simply reabsorbed into its blood stream whey they revert to their dormant form until they are needed again at which time they are pumped into the saliva glands to be re-activated. A quantity are left behind in the victim's body which is how we believe the vampire can control their actions after death. Quite an elegant system actually."<br />
<br />
His mouth quirked slightly at my look of horrified disbelief. "Terrible, but highly efficient."<br />
<br />
"It's evil is what it is." I said<br />
<br />
Walter's hard stare bored into me. "Yes Ms. Doyle," He said. "it is evil. It has long been this house's mission not to just destroy the vampire but to also find a counter agent to its bite. For decades we have risked lives to study and obtain samples of every stage of the turning. We have subjected infected human tissue to every test and substance imaginable and while we have gained a great deal of understanding of the process and can even tell you the biological conditions that will trigger the creation of a vampire instead of a ghoul, we have not, despite all of our research, been able to find a way to stop it. Nothing, I repeat nothing has ever come even remotely close to counteracting the pathogens once they are introduced." He placed the new slide under the microscope clips and stepped back gesturing to the eyepiece. "Until now." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-66543046910037734092013-01-03T17:10:00.004-05:002013-02-08T15:29:59.245-05:00LETTERSFROM HELLSING LVII<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It all happened so quickly, I didn't even have time to be terrified, much less scream.<br />
<br />
I
would have been dashed against the wall had Walter not moved, faster
than I would have thought humanly possible, to insert himself between me and the
mortared stone. I slammed into him hard. His only outward reaction was
a small wumph of air as we hit the wall and he bore the brunt of the
impact.<br />
<br />
Seras' wailing cry cut across the room. Walter
quickly righted me and strode over to where she stood sobbing and
clawing at her neck.<br />
<br />
"Ahhh! Walter it hurts, it hurts,
make it stop! No! Don't touch it!" She screeched as Walter reached
towards her. "Ohhh it hurts so much!"<br />
<br />
"Miss Victoria. You need to hold still" Said Walter calmly.<br />
<br />
She screeched and began clawing at her neck again.<br />
<br />
"Miss
Victoria!" Said Walter in a loud commanding voice. "You will cease
this caterwauling immediately and stand to. Is that understood?"<br />
<br />
Seras ceased screaming and snapped to attention. <br />
<br />
"Right." Said Walter briskly. "Now remove your hand so I can see."<br />
<br />
With a small whimper she dropped her hand to her side revealing her injury.<br />
<br />
Walter frowned and I gasped.<br />
<br />
Her
skin was raw and bleeding from her scratches and in the centre was a
red, angry hole with black edges. There was a whiff of smoke and burnt
flesh in the air. Her right hand was twitching and I noticed her palm
was red and coming out in blisters.<br />
<br />
"My God!" I said reaching for her. "She's burned!"<br />
<br />
"Fetch
the pitcher please Ms. Doyle." Said Walter nodding towards the food
tray as he removed the water bottle from my night stand and upended
the contents over the wound. She flinched a bit as the water hit her
but otherwise remained still.<br />
<br />
"What could have possibly caused
this?" I asked, handing him the pitcher and napkin from the tray and
wiping absently at the tears streaming down my face.<br />
<br />
"It's
odd." He said pouring a bit of the water on her hand then dipping the
napkin into the pitcher. "It almost appears to be a silver or even a
holy water burn but neither of these items are present that I can see.
Try holding this Miss Victoria." He said handing her some ice wrapped
in the wet napkin. "Are you under any geas of which I am unaware?"<br />
<br />
She frowned. "Just the blood thing." She whispered morosely.<br />
<br />
He eyed her shoulder again critically. "This will probably be wanting some grave dirt."<br />
<br />
"Seras will be OK won't she?" I asked still swiping at my stupid tears.<br />
<br />
"Most likely." He said.<br />
<br />
"At
least no killer bees this time." Said Seras, wincing a bit as Walter
sluiced her wounds with the rest of the ice water from the pitcher.<br />
<br />
"Well
that's a relief then." I said sniffling and trying out a watery smile.
"Bee bites are the worst." I reached out to comfort her but was
brought up short as Walters hand clamped onto my left wrist.<br />
<br />
"Perhaps," He said. "you should tell me about these bees."<br />
<br />
Bewildered,
I stumbled through an abbreviated version of the 'Killer bee incident'.
While I was speaking,Walter placed the empty pitcher on the night
stand and flexed his free hand.<br />
<br />
"Tell me Ms. Doyle," He asked quietly once I'd finished. "did you happen to be crying at the time?"<br />
<br />
"Um, yes?" I said.<br />
<br />
He
looked at Seras' angry wound then back down at his hand thoughtfully.
He flexed it once more and looked back at me. "I think," He said. "we
should proceed immediately to the lab."<br />
<br />
"But Seras is going to be OK?" I asked as he tugged me towards the door.<br />
<br />
"Don't,"
He said firmly, when I reached up to brush at my tears. "touch your
face...Please." He added almost as an afterthought.<br />
<br />
"But, I, um." I said cleverly as he steered me down the hall.<br />
<br />
We
arrived at the lab just as Andrew was packing up to go home. Walter
strode across the room and over to the examination table with me in tow.
Seras followed looking almost as confused as I felt.<br />
<br />
"Saline
eye wash kit and two sterile pipettes please Mr. Young." Said Walter
without preamble. "Ms. Doyle, on the table." He ordered, unshackling
my wrist.<br />
<br />
"Me?" I asked, becoming more and more confused but still hopping up onto the table.<br />
<br />
"Don't touch your face." He admonished, a bit more gently this time.<br />
<br />
"Very
good Mr. Young." He said as Andrew brought over the requested items.
"Now please assist Miss Victoria in flushing out her wound." He took the pipettes and turned back towards me. "Please hold still Ms.
Doyle." He said, raising one to my face.<br />
<br />
Andrew gave a low whistle as he looked over Seras' burn."Holy water?" He asked, opening the package and shaking the bag.<br />
<br />
Seras
shook her head and craned her neck and stared intently over at Walter
as he carefully dabbed a pipette under my left eye. "What are you
doing Walter?" She asked.<br />
<br />
"Playing a hunch Miss
Victoria." He said. Placing the first pipette on the instrument tray
and picking up the second to repeat the process under my right eye.<br />
<br />
"Well
that's ruddy informative." Grumbled Seras holding the eye cup against
her shoulder as Andrew squeezed out the contents of the bag. <br />
<br />
"One
does one's best Miss Victoria." He said coolly. "And seeing as how
you seem well enough for sarcasm I think you are sufficiently stabilized
to go to your room and apply some fresh grave dirt to your wounds."<br />
<br />
"But, what <b>are</b> you do-"<br />
<br />
"Now, Miss Victoria."<br />
<br />
"I'm not a child you know." she said petulantly.<br />
<br />
"Then stop behaving like one and follow the protocols."<br />
<br />
She looked as if she wanted to say something snarky then slumped a bit.<br />
<br />
"Be
sure to pack plenty of it on Miss Victoria." He said a bit more
gently. "And I want you to rest for at least forty seven minutes, I
will be checking."<br />
<br />
She gave a curt nod and, clutching
the towel Andrew handed her against her damp chest, turned to go. She
stopped by the table and gave me a searching look. I felt the brushing
of her mind against mine, soft as a butterfly's wing. Normally we don't
indulge in our silent communications when others are around as it seems
as rude as whispering but she wasn't sending words just emotions. I
felt her pain and confusion over what had happened and I felt here
sorrow and fear. Fear of losing control and hurting me fear of losing
my friendship.<br />
<br />
I raised my arm to take her hand but was
brought up short by a warning look from Walter so I instead reached out
with my mind trying to send comfort ant reassurance. I crooked the
index finger of my partially raised hand and bent my wrist down to make
1/2 of the ASL sign for friendship. She smiled wistfully and mirrored
my gesture upside-down to make the other 1/2 of the sign. Then, before
Walter could chastise her again, she was out the door.<br />
<br />
I
narrowed my eyes at Walter as he placed the second pipette down on the
tray. "Any particular reason you just gave Seras the bum's rush out of
here?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Oh, most definitely." He said
unmoved by my glare. "Mr Young I am going to need several blank slides
and the freshest of Miss Victoria's samples you have available." <br />
<br />
"So, are you going to tell me or kick me out too?" I asked switching to pouting.<br />
<br />
He
thought about it a moment and said. "No, you should stay Ms. Doyle, we
may need you but" He said as he began arranging several blank slides
on the tray. "I must warn you, if my suspicions are correct, you may
feel somewhat conflicted emotionally."<br />
<br />
Both Andrew and I
watched in open curiosity as Walter quickly marked and measured out
small daubs of Seras' blood onto eight of the slides. He then picked up
the first pipette and and added a drop of the contents to two of the
slides. He repeated the process with the second pipette on two of the
other prepared slides then carried the tray over to the microscopes.<br />
<br />
A horrible chill crept over me. "You think it was me." I gasped. "You think I did this to Seras."<br />
<br />
"I'm not quite certain but I suspect so." He said as he placed the first slide under the microscope.<br />
<br />
"No."
I whispered to myself. "I would never." I touched a hand to my face.
I had stopped crying but my cheeks were still flushed and damp. That's
why he wouldn't let me touch Seras earlier. I had wiped my face and he
thinks that my tears... My thoughts drifted back to the night Alucard
had pulled out my hair and woven that web. <br />
<br />
He
compared a few more slides then looked up at me for a moment his eyes
dark with some unreadable emotion then back down at the slides. I
started to open my mouth to speak but before I could say anything he had
stepped back from the microscope and pulled out his cell phone.<br />
<br />
"Ma'am,
you may wish to come down to the lab. There is something here I think
you should see. Yes ma'am, right away." He paused a moment then added.
"You may wish to summon Alucard. Very good ma'am." He snapped the
phone off and turned to Andrew who had moved over to sneak a peek into
the microscope.<br />
<br />
"Christ!" Swore Andrew in amazement. "It's tearing through those cells like nothing I've ever seen!"<br />
<br />
"Mr. Young, please page Dr. Levin immediately."<br />
<br />
"They're
actually exploding! What? Oh, yes sir. Right away." Said Andrew
reluctantly tearing himself away from the eye piece. <br />
<br />
I
frowned down at my hands thinking. I remembered my tears that night,
how they had looked like gleaming little jewels, sliding along the
strands of the web. What had Alucard said about them? I bit my lip and
thought harder. I glanced up at Walter who was preparing several more
slides. My eyes slid over to the microscope and I shuddered a bit and
looked away back to Walter who was now looking at me.<br />
<br />
"Beauty from pain." I whispered.<br />
<br />
Walters hands stilled over the slides. "Ms. Doyle?" <br />
<br />
"He
took my tears that night and said, 'You see Angel. How I can create
beauty from your pain'." I said sadly. "I Thought he meant the way my
they looked in the web he had woven from my hair. But he didn't did
he? He meant that." I indicated the microscope with an angry gesture.
"How is that beauty? How is what I did to Seras beauty?" <br />
<br />
He paused as if parsing his words carefully. "I believe..."<br />
<br />
He
was interrupted by a commotion at the door. Sir Integra bustled in
Alucard following breezily, a mildly amused look on his face. <br />
<br />
"Report." She barked, cutting to the chase.<br />
<br />
Alucard leaned against the wall and crossed his arms smugly.<br />
<br />
"I
believe we've had a significant breakthrough." Said Walter who then
began a brief recap of Seras' injury and its probable source as he set
up a fresh pair of slides. "As you can see," He said, as she bowed
over the eyepiece. "The assault on the cell structure seems to emulate
both the acidic effects of holy water as well as the incendiary
qualities of silver."<br />
<br />
"Ah, yes, lovely." She said
sounding pleased. "Those cells not dissolved literally boiling until
they explode. Excellent." She looked up at me with a speculative gleam
in her eye. "This could be quite useful."<br />
<br />
I wrapped my
arms around my waist and glared at her. Of course she would find this
'lovely'. I thought disgustedly. Sick twists the lot of them.<br />
<br />
"Your
little experiment may prove some profit after all." She said to
Alucard with a hint of approval, either oblivious to or uncaring about
my angry silence. Probably the latter. Oddly though, while he still
looked smug, Alucard did not seem entirely pleased.<br />
<br />
"If we can learn to synthesize this, the weapons potential could be enormous."<br />
<br />
Alucard's eyes narrowed slightly but he remained silent.<br />
<br />
"Doyle,"
Said Sir Integra sounding almost cheerful. "do you suppose your could
provide some further samples? I would like Dr. Levin to be able to
begin his research as soon as he arrives."<br />
<br />
I continued to glower at her in stony silence.<br />
<br />
She dismissed me with an impatient waive and turned back to Alucard. "How does one trigger the reaction?"<br />
<br />
"I suppose, I could beat her," He said drolly. "But she's gained quite a tolerance."<br />
<br />
"Oh bother it! you know what I mean. Dammit Alucard, I need more samples. This is no time for games!"<br />
<br />
"Oh
right!" I spat. "And now you expect him not to play games? That's
all he ever does. He's not ready for his grand reveal yet, can't you
tell?" I turned my glare on him. "Some pawn not properly in position?
Deck not quite stacked yet?"<br />
<br />
"Ah Angel, you are a fast learner." He smirked.<br />
<br />
I made a disgusted noise.<br />
<br />
Alucard's lip twitched in amusement. <br />
<br />
Sir
Integra slammed her hand down on the examination table causing the
instrument tray to rattle. "Spare me the theatrics Doyle," She said
curtly. "This," She said gesturing towards the microscope. "is
important."<br />
<br />
I looked over to the microscope than back
at her. "That'," I said calmly, coldly meeting her eye. "is Seras'
blood. That is what is burning and dissolving before your eyes. That
is what I did to her. " That, I thought to myself sadly, is what I'm
turning into. "Seras is hurt. Don't you even care?"<br />
<br />
She
looked mildly nonplussed. "Walter would have informed me if her
injuries were serious or debilitating. Certainly," She said, her mouth
twitching with slight humour. "not life threatening."<br />
<br />
My jaw dropped and I emitted a high pitched growling-squeak reminiscent, I am sure, of a rabid guinea pig. "Grr-wheek-rr!" <br />
<br />
"I don't think she appreciates your particular brand of humour, master." Said Alucard sardonically.<br />
<br />
"Few
do." She said wryly. She glanced at my stony expression and sighed.
"Look Doyle, if this injury had been sustained on a human, it may very
well have been life threatening or at the very least require
hospitalization. But you must understand that vampires can sustain a
great deal of damage and still function and they heal at a remarkable
rate. She has most likely completely recovered by now"<br />
<br />
"That didn't stop her from feeling the pain." I said.<br />
<br />
"Oh
do stop being so maudlin." She sniped. "Unless, of course, you think
it might help you in providing more samples?" She asked hopefully.<br />
<br />
I
glanced at her suspiciously, unsure if she was joking or not. Knowing
her, it could go either way. I sighed with resignation. She was who
she was. It wasn't as if she had ever even pretended to be a nice
person. Driven yes, kind no. It just wasn't in her job description.<br />
<br />
Besides, she wasn't the one with whom I really should be angry. I darted a poisonous glance at the guilty party in question.<br />
<br />
Him
and his games! I thought grimly and squeezed the iPod still clutched
in my hand. 'He is what he is' wasn't going to cut it in his case.
Not this time. He had pushed it to far and I had something they
wanted. Very much so if the gleam in Sir Integra's eye was anything to
go by.<br />
<br />
I couldn't challenge Alucard head on and ever
hope to win but there was one person in the room who could and now I had
a bargaining chip. Sir Integra might never be my friend but she might
very well suit as a protector.<br />
<br />
I stroked the iPod
thoughtfully for a moment, choosing my words. If I was able to finesse
it so that she thought it was her idea, I could gain a buffer from
Alucard and still keep my bargaining chip. Hmmm, what would Sgt. Marks
do? I started to open my mouth then stopped. No, much as I admired Sgt.
Marks I had neither the deviousness nor the emotional armour to play
hard ball with this group. I sighed again. For better or worse, I was
who I was so cards on the table and hope for the best. I squared my
shoulders and began.<br />
<br />
"Look, I honestly don't know how
to feel about this new development." I said gesturing towards my cheek.
"But that's not really the issue here, it's happening whether I like it
or not." <br />
<br />
Sir Integra lifted an eyebrow, indicating I
should continue. Alucard feigned indifference but I could feel his
mind brush over mine, tasting my emotions.<br />
<br />
"The issue
is twice now, I have been placed in the position of injuring Seras,
three times actually if Walter had not stepped in. Scratch that, if
Walter had not stepped in I would have been dashed up against the wall
and it's doubtful I would have been conscious much less in any shape to
cause her any further harm."<br />
<br />
"Your point being?" Drawled Alucard in a bored voice. <br />
<br />
Sir Integra crossed her arms and frowned thoughtfully.<br />
<br />
The point being, even if you hadn't anticipated the first incident," <span style="color: #bf9000;"> <span style="color: #6aa84f;">"which I doubt."</span></span>
I thought at him. "There was no reason for allowing the second beyond
sheer perversity." I turned to Sir Integra. "Surely indulging in his
games is not worth needlessly placing Seras in harms way. Even if you
do not care on a personal level, I don't think you can afford to risk
any of your senior officers not being at 100% should there be an
emergency without good cause. The time lost in potential research alone
because of this delay should be enough to give you pause. Not to
mention the fact that had I hit the wall and broken my neck, all this,"
I said gesturing about the lab. "would be rather moot."<br />
<br />
Sir Integra's emotionless face turned towards Alucard. "Well?"<br />
<br />
"She wasn't ready yet." He shrugged.<br />
<br />
"Meaning?"<br />
<br />
"Meaning,
the time was not right, she still needed to be conditioned, seasoned if
you will, Her powers needed time to simmer, to intensify and blend."<br />
<br />
"She's not a roast you know."<br />
<br />
"No,
but like a roast, she's no good if you you remove her from the fire too
soon. I would not serve my master such an unfinished thing at her
table. I would give you a feast, not scraps for the dogs."<br />
<br />
She scowled.<br />
<br />
"Humans!" He said disgustedly. "You constantly complain about my ignoring feelings and now, when I have finally found a way to take them into account, use them for the greater good, you complain about that. There is simply no pleasing you!"<br />
<br />
"This grows tiresome Alucard." She said dismissively. "I am inclined to end this right now."<br />
<br />
He looked at her intently. "I promised my master redemption." He said quietly. "If her God would not grant it then I would."<br />
<br />
"You dare!" Hissed Walter.<br />
<br />
"Always." countered Alucard smirking.<br />
<br />
"Ma'am he is..."<br />
<br />
"I know exactly what he is." Said Sir Integra raising her hand to still Walter's protest. "You tread a fine line." She said to Alucard. "Take care not to cross it."<br />
<br />
"I seek to serve my master." Said Alucard unperturbed. "If she will not forgive herself the burden of souls she carries, I will create that forgiveness for her."<br />
<br />
"By bringing me another weapon to kill vampires?" She laughed. "I fail to see how burning holes in vampires will redeem me where explosive bullets will not. It's good and I'll use it but it is hardly unique."<br />
<br />
"Besides," I interrupted with exasperation. "I thought I was supposed to be a defensive weapon. How is this defensive? Am I to sob them to death?"<br />
<br />
"That," Said Alucard. "Is almost the answer."<br />
<br />
"What, sobbing?"<br />
<br />
"No dolt!" He said glaring at me. "How is this a defensive weapon?" He turned to Integra. "How can it redeem what the vampire has stolen?"<br />
<br />
"I'm asking you!" Said Sir Integra thunderously. "For once will you simply answer a direct question!" <br />
<br />
"That," He said calmly. "would be cheating."<br />
<br />
"Alucard." She said warningly.<br />
<br />
"Come now," Said Alucard. "The clues are all before you. I have," He said gesturing to me. "given you the key. Simply unlock her."<br />
<br />
Sir Integra made ready to yell.<br />
<br />
"I think," Came Walter's calm voice, cutting across the tension. "I know part of the answer at least."</div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-3793840280508550132012-12-10T17:25:00.000-05:002013-02-04T17:13:59.335-05:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LVI<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Zelig was right, drat him! I was running late. Of course the fact that it was all his fault never even occurred to Bertie, he just kept yammering on and on about explosions and murals.<br />
<br />
Rather than waste more time or risk a brain embolism trying to argue with the demented little dwarf, I smiled sweetly, distracted him with a promise of snickerdoodles and made a mad dash for the elevator.<br />
<br />
I skidded into the bathroom 10 minutes behind schedule and rushed through my shower (lather, rinse, no repeat) hoping to make up some lost time. I wrapped my hair in a towel and damply squeezed into clean clothing. Then, barefoot and be-turbaned, dirty clothes in one hand, hairbrush and scrunchie in the other, I trotted towards my bedroom to put on my shoes and grab the book Walter wanted to borrow.<br />
<br />
I stopped short in the doorway surprised as my bedroom seemed to be occupied already by a rather odd couple indeed. <br />
<br />
The man stood with quiet calm and almost unnatural stillness in front of the clothes chest, arms folded behind his back as he watched the other occupant of the room, who was sitting on the bed yet literally bouncing up and down with excitement, with infinite patience and perhaps just a touch of humour as she pelted him with an endless stream of nervous chatter.<br />
<br />
"Oh she's late! {bounce} <bounce> I can't stand it. {bounce, bounce} <bounce> <bounce>Do you think {bounce}she'll like it <bounce> really? {bounce, ping} <squeak> I mean it seemed so {bounce} <bounce> perfect but what if I chose {ka-bounce} the wrong colour {bounce} and <bouncety> <bounce>I'm still {bounce, squeak} not sure about that one group {bouncety, bounce} <bounce> I mean really, {bounce}<bounce> I think that was <bounce> a {bounce} joke don't you? <poing> <bounce> <bounce>But still {bounce, squeak} it seems just the {bounce} thing you know?<shift><creak> {ka-boing} But I've never been good at picking {bounce} presents and why <bounce> isn't <bounce> she <bounce> here yet! {bounce, bouncety} You did tell her when to come and...Oh {bounce}Walter, she just has to like it. <bounce> You do think she'll {bounce}like it don't you?" <kabounce> <bounce></bounce></kabounce></bounce></bounce></bounce></bounce></creak></shift></bounce></bounce></poing></bounce></bounce></bounce></bounce></bouncety></bounce></squeak></bounce></bounce></bounce></bounce><br />
<br />
"Perhaps you should ask her directly Miss Victoria." Said Walter indicating my presence in the doorway with a nod of his head.<br />
<br />
"Oh <bounce> Corrine!" Cried Seras happily. "Your finally <bounce> here!" She bounced one last time on the mattress and sprang from the bed in a surprisingly graceful movement landing, cat like, on the balls of her feet. </bounce></bounce><br />
<br />
<bounce><bounce>"You're up early." I said smiling. </bounce></bounce><br />
<br />
<bounce><bounce>"We've been waiting." She said, bounding to the doorway and grabbing one of my hands. </bounce></bounce><br />
<br />
"Yes I see." I said as she tugged me into room. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, well," She said suddenly turning shy and dropping my hand. "we, that is, Walter and I, we sort of that is, I thought you might..."<br />
<br />
"Miss Victoria has a gift for you." Said Walter simply.<br />
<br />
Seras bit her lip and handed me a small package she had been clutching tightly.<br />
<br />
"Why Seras, that's so sweet of you." I said, accepting the beautifully wrapped parcel. "Oh, lovely." I said, stroking the soft velvet bow and tracing the raised pattern on the paper.<br />
<br />
"Open it." She said tightly. Having no patience this evening for my quirky tactile tendencies.<br />
<br />
"Of course." I said. Gently untying the ribbon and carefully peeling back the the taped edges of the paper.<br />
<br />
"Oh, for the love of,...Corrine it's just wrapping paper not the Magna Carta."<br />
<br />
"But it's so pretty. " I said.<br />
<br />
"Corrine." She said warningly.<br />
<br />
I tugged off the remaining paper, wincing at the tearing sound, then opened the little gift box and tugged out something wrapped in a black velvet bag. A warning look from Seras stopped my fondling and I quickly untied the drawstrings. <br />
<br />
A shiny red plastic rectangle, about 5 inches long fell into my hand. I flipped it over and smiled at Seras with delight. "An iPod." I squeaked happily. "Oh Seras you got me an iPod, A really nice one too and it's red!" I said stroking the gleaming surface.<br />
<br />
"So you like it then?" She asked.<br />
<br />
"Like it? I love it Seras. Thank you!" I said hugging her hard. "Now, show me how to use it!" I demanded, switching it on.<br />
<br />
"Well," Said Seras. "You can jack your headphones in here, I also got you a splitter or, you can put it in this docking station," She said, sweeping her arm towards Walter. "so we can all listen."<br />
<br />
Walter stepped to one side revealing a very high-tech looking piece of electronic equipment that seemed more appropriate for docking the USS Enterprise than an iPod.<br />
<br />
"Wow!" I said. "That's really...Wow!"<br />
<br />
I gabbed Seras' hand and bounded over to the dresser. "I really should say 'you shouldn't have' and 'it's too much' but I can't because it's so cool and I love it and I want it and need to press all those lovely buttons so very, very much!" <br />
<br />
"I know." She said laughing. "We were going to get just a regular one then Walter and I saw this one and we knew we had to get it for you."<br />
<br />
Walter showed us some of it's features and we all basked in the shared warmth of the brotherhood of geeky gadgetry love.<br />
<br />
"I'm half expecting Tie fighters to fly out." I said.<br />
<br />
"Wouldn't be surprised. And, Walter has modified it so it won't blow up when you start, ahem, your special sing-ey thing."<br />
<br />
"You guys are the best!" I said. "Let's try it out shall we?"<br />
<br />
I scrolled down the menu and let out a small gasp of surprise. Not only was everything from the CDs I had brought to England with me on there but pretty much every song from every CD, tape, 45 or LP I owned as well as several I didn't. It was like looking at an alphabetical listing of every artist or song I had ever heard and liked from Abba to ZZ Top. From "All that Jazz" to "Yesterday". <br />
<br />
"So many." I said with awe. I shuffled through the Stray Cats, Talking Heads and the Ramones. Gazed with amazement as Jim Croce, Pat Benatar, Meatloaf and Janis Joplin flashed across the screen. "B-52s, Big Audio Dynamite, Yardbirds..." I muttered. "Ah, Little Feat, Elton John, Patsy Cline, Violent Femmes..."<br />
<br />
"Oh dear, it's not too much is it? I mean we got the extended memory card so there should still be room for more songs but I suppose you could always delete a few."<br />
<br />
"No! no, this is amazing you got pretty much everything I would ever want on here. I mean look at this, you got Ray Charles, the Alarm, the Kentucky Headhunters, Buddy Holly....How did you even know I liked the Squirrel Nut Zippers or Screamin' Jay Hawkin<b>s</b>?"<br />
<br />
"Well, we called a few people..."<br />
<br />
"This is beyond amazing you even have my favourite musicals, Chess, The Fantasticks, pretty much all of Andrew Lloyd Webber, original London casts no less."<br />
<br />
"Of course." Said Walter.<br />
<br />
I twinkled at them. "How did you ever get Clam Chowder?"<br />
<br />
"Online. Your sister said she wants that tape back by the way."<br />
<br />
"And I don't even think Catholic Boy was ever released on CD."<br />
<br />
Walter spread his hands as if to say nothing was beyond his evil butler super powers.<br />
<br />
I giggled. "I think every album Air Supply ever made must be on here."<br />
<br />
"Yes, about that." Said Seras. "I was pretty sure your friends must have been joking about them but Walter said best to include those too."<br />
<br />
"I actually do love Air Supply." I blushed. "My friends just couldn't break me of it, hard as they tried. They're just so..."<br />
<br />
"Pedantic." Offered Walter.<br />
<br />
"Treacle-ly." Supplied Seras.<br />
<br />
"I was going to say romantic you heartless louts but I forgive you because I now own the complete Beatles, Stones, Pink Floyd, Who and Kylie Minogue collec...Kylie Minogue?" I asked holding out the I-pod to Seras. "I don't think I know any of her songs. Who told you I liked her?"<br />
<br />
"Well," Said Seras. "Walter mentioned that you liked oldies."<br />
<br />
"Hmmm." I said mildly insulted and feeling a bit old. "Well that's very thoughtful of you. I'll have to give her a listen."<br />
<br />
I was about to scroll over to the classical folder when an entry caught my eye.<br />
<br />
Impossible, I thought, staring at the name of a high school Christian rock group that, as far as knew, hadn't played together in over 20 years. "Malachi" I whispered. "You have Malachi on here."<br />
<br />
I looked up at them eyes round with wonder. "How is that even possible? They never made a real album, much less a CD. They just sold tapes at their concerts. There probably aren't more than 10 of those left in existence."<br />
<br />
"One of which," Said Seras proudly. "was mixed in among the tapes in your library. Your mother read me all of the titles and your sister said this one was special because you all belonged to this youth group together and were friends with the band so." She shrugged. "She wants that tape back too by the way."<br />
<br />
"But how?"<br />
<br />
"Oh easy." She said. "I had your mother express ship it here then Walter transferred it onto the computer and converted the songs into mp3 files. He even cleaned up the sound a little...are you all right Corrine?"<br />
<br />
"Oh." I said stumbling back a bit. My legs hit the bed and I sat down. "Oh." I was having trouble speaking so many emotions were crowding in on me at once. They had done this for me. They had put their heads together and given me probably the most wonderful and thoughtful gift I had ever received. When I thought about the time and care that had gone into creating it, I felt humbled and awed. I looked up at them, eyes brimming. "Seras honey, you did all this for me?"<br />
<br />
"Well yes." She said shyly. "I wanted to find a way to say thank you for everything you've done for me and I know you missed having your music." She blushed and looked down at her hands. "Your the best friend I've ever had Corrine and I," She stopped and bit her lip. "I love you." She whispered.<br />
<br />
Something within my chest broke loose and came bursting out of me until I was laughing and crying at the same time. Right there, right then, in that room with these people I was, for the first time in a long time, well and truly happy. I launched myself off the bed and into her arms, tears of joy steaming down my face.<br />
<br />
"Oh Seras, I love you too!" I cried, squeezing her tight. "And this is the best present ever! Thank you both so..." <br />
<br />
Suddenly the world turned upside down. One moment I was bending to kiss Seras' cheek, the next, Seras was shrieking with pain, her sharp nails clawing at me like a wounded animal.<br />
<br />
Before I could react, she lifted me from the ground by my upper arms and flung me across the room like so much garbage. </div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-83616529114093565262012-08-29T22:49:00.000-04:002012-08-29T23:21:35.525-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LV"I'm not autistic you know." Said Zelig.<br />
<br />
"Hmm?" I said adjusting the pound notes more comfortably in my bra.<br />
<br />
"I'm not autistic."<br />
<br />
"Never said you were Bertie."<br />
<br />
"Well I'm not."<br />
<br />
"OK."<br />
<br />
He frowned and popped his jaw, folding his arms tightly behind his back. We walked a few more paces towards the main house before he cocked his head back towards me and said. "And the Asperger's has never been formally diagnosed."<br />
<br />
The penny dropped. "Ah Bertie, that's not why I'm reading the book."<br />
<br />
"Humph." He huffed. "Stupid poinger learns a few languages and does a few math tricks and suddenly he's some celebrity expert on synaesthesia."<br />
<br />
"Well he does have it." I ventured. "That kind of makes him an expert."<br />
<br />
"He's not! He's a performing monkey just this side of an idiot savant.'<br />
<br />
"Now your just being mean Bertie. He's overcome a lot."<br />
<br />
"Humph."<br />
<br />
"Now Bertie."<br />
<br />
"My synaesthesia is far and away more interesting than his." He grumped. "And I'm much better looking."<br />
<br />
"Of course you are Bertie."<br />
<br />
"I just don't see why they couldn't write a book about me."<br />
<br />
"Well, for starters, there's the fact that you have warrants out in five countries."<br />
<br />
"Six, I'd use a fake name."<br />
<br />
"And the dust jacket photo?"<br />
<br />
"Moustache, I look quite sexy with a moustache."<br />
<br />
"OK," I said. Warming up to the subject. "How 'bout this; Much as your book would be good, your art is even better..."<br />
<br />
"It is quite steller." <br />
<br />
"...So, I would think that you would rather people marvel at your artistic genius than be fascinated by your synesthesia."<br />
<br />
"True, true." He said, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Still, the book would be bloody fantastic. Seems a pity to deny the world." <br />
<br />
"I know." I said. "You could keep a journal to write your memoires and publish them posthumously. Then, people could say, 'Wow, is that really how his mind worked? This explains so much. He truly was a...'"<br />
<br />
"Genius?" He offered.<br />
<br />
"Absolutely." I agreed. <br />
<br />
He stopped walking a moment and turned towards me. "Say...your pretty good at this."<br />
<br />
"Good at what Bertie?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Handling me." He grinned taking my arm. "I like being handled, makes me feel important."<br />
<br />
I gaped at him at a loss for words.<br />
<br />
He laughed and tugged my arm to get me going again. "It's a complement, really. In fact when I'm a ridiculously famous artist, you can be part of my entourage."<br />
<br />
"Oh I can, can I?"<br />
<br />
"Mmmmhmmm, you can be the one who tells me what I need to hear instead of what I want to hear. You know, to keep me grounded and such. And, you can bake the brownies."<br />
<br />
"A Herculean task indeed. but Isn't that sergeant Marks' job?"<br />
<br />
"What? No, he makes terrible brownies." <br />
<br />
"Bertie!"<br />
<br />
"Oh, the 'grounding' thing. No, he just hits me on the head and tells me to stop being an idiot. I like your methods better."<br />
<br />
"Hmm. Well thank you, I think."<br />
<br />
He nodded regaly.<br />
<br />
"Speaking of 'grounding'," I said in my most tactful manner. "Haven't you told me on several occasions that most artists who are popular during their lifetimes are doomed to become talentless hacks, if they aren't already, due to the overwhelming pressure to remain commercially viable?"<br />
<br />
"True, true." He said.<br />
<br />
"So, then, why would you want to be famous?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, I don't want to be famous." He said soberly.<br />
<br />
"But."<br />
<br />
"I simply won't be given the choice." He cocked his head. "It's just that my art is so obviously sublime, that even something as dense as an art critic can spot its brilliance."<br />
<br />
"Obviously sublime?"<br />
<br />
"Hush now." He said, wagging a finger at me. "Genius speaking." <br />
<br />
"Of course, of course. Please do continue."<br />
<br />
"As I was saying...what was I saying?"<br />
<br />
"Sublime art critics."<br />
<br />
"Yes, yes." He said. "As I was saying, my art is so obviously sublime that even an art critic can recognize its brilliance so its just a matter of time before I'm 'discovered' and you know what that means don't you?"<br />
<br />
"Ummm."<br />
<br />
"Exactly! Gallery showings." He shuddered. "And you know what that leads to."<br />
<br />
"White wine and pretentious hors d'oeuvre s?"<br />
<br />
"Worse," He said gravely. "commissions." <br />
<br />
"I see." I said sagely. "No, sorry. I don't get it." <br />
<br />
"Corrine," He huffed. "commissions mean money."<br />
<br />
"Ah." I said. Understanding dawning.<br />
<br />
"Yes," He said glumly. "Lots and lots of money."<br />
<br />
"You do love money." I said.<br />
<br />
"I do. I really do." He said ruefully. "There are just so many lovely things you can buy with money."<br />
<br />
"True." I said. "And then there's the attention and adoration." <br />
<br />
"I know!" He wailed. "I love being told how great I am. I just love it! And the more commissions and money I get the more people will love me." He reached over to pluck at my sleeve. "So you see why you have to be part of my entourage."<br />
<br />
"No, not really."<br />
<br />
He huffed, exasperated. "So you can tell me who adores me for my art and good looks and who just likes my art cause it popular. You know like the the slave who stood behind the Roman general in the chariot holding the laurel wreath.<br />
<br />
"Whispering 'You are but a mortal man'?"<br />
<br />
"Yes!" He said excitedly. "Only more modern and appropriate."<br />
<br />
"So.... Poke you with a stick and tell you to get over yourself."<br />
<br />
"I was thinking more like kissing me on the cheek and reminding me that art is more important than money."<br />
<br />
"I can see why you wouldn't want St. Marks to do that."<br />
<br />
"Cause of the kissing?"<br />
<br />
"No, because saying anything was more important than money might just kill him."<br />
<br />
He laughed and squeezed my hand. "That's what the Sarge said! He said he'd rather just hit me and say 'shut up and take the money!'. So I decided he's going to be my agent and now that you're on board..."<br />
<br />
"Now wait a minute Bertie I haven't agreed to this."<br />
<br />
"But I decided."<br />
<br />
"I do have a life you know."<br />
<br />
He snorted, amused.<br />
<br />
"Well I do." I said mildly annoyed.<br />
<br />
"But it's a boring one."<br />
<br />
"Bertram DeGaul Zelig, you take that back!" <br />
<br />
"But you told me so just last week." He said confused.<br />
<br />
"I did not!...Well maybe I did but that doesn't mean I meant....Oh, why do you take things so literally Bertie?"<br />
<br />
He frowned puzzled. He tapped his fingertips gently together a few times thoughtfully then brightened. "Is this about the asking thing? Stewart says girls like to be asked first."<br />
<br />
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.<br />
<br />
"Well, if it means that much to you," He said twining his arm around mine. "I'll ask. But we both already know your going to do it."<br />
<br />
"Oh I am, am I?"<br />
<br />
"Of course," He said smugly. "I'm irresistible."<br />
<br />
"The word you want is incorrigible." I said, trying to sound stern but fighting back a smile.<br />
<br />
"Of course." He said dismissively. "Most true geniuses are." He must have read my smile for acquiescence because he squeezed my hand and looked up at me with a broad grin. "Oh Rin we're going to have so much fun."<br />
<br />
"Rin?"<br />
<br />
"It's your groupie name."<br />
<br />
"I think not. Besides, I thought you didn't want to be famous."<br />
<br />
"Oh I don't." He said. "I'll be tourtured and miserable the whole time but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to enjoy ourselves now is it?"<br />
<br />
"Isn't it?"<br />
<br />
"No." He said patting my arm patiently. "You should always try to find some joy in life Rin, no matter how miserable the circumstances." <br />
<br />
I could not fault his philosophy, however flawed his logic.<br />
<br />
"Besides," He said interrupting my thoughts. "We'll be so busy planning my death, that I'll have little time to be miserable."<br />
<br />
"What the What now?"<br />
<br />
"My death." He said excitedly. "We have to start planning it right away so it will be just perfect."<br />
<br />
"Bertie." I said warningly.<br />
<br />
"No, you see you've inspired me. All along I've been resigned to having to be rich and famous for the rest of my life and quit the Geese and not blow things up any more, which would really be a shame cause a proper explosion is really just a practical application of performance art, hmmm... performance art" He mused. "Perhaps I could still blow things up from time to time." He whistled a couple of bars of music experimentally then shook himself back to reality. "Anyway I'd still be miserable but then you suggested the whole posthumous memoires thing and I thought, hey! perhaps being famous wouldn't be all that bad if it included a gruesome yet stunningly spectacular, tragically premature death." He wrapped his arms gleefully about himself bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Oh yes." He sighed. Then, eyes gleaming, he began whistling softly again.<br />
<br />
"No Bertie!" I shouted "Stop it. Stop talking like that right now!"<br />
<br />
"But your my death muse." He said with a little smile. "Hmm, death muse..I'll have to paint you like that." <br />
<br />
I growled and grabbed his shoulders. Shaking him until his teeth rattled. "Dammit Bertie! your not this crazy so stop it right now." He fixed me with a baleful glare for interrupting his express crazy train thoughts of death but I was un-cowed "There will be no more talk about killing yourself do you hear me?" I commanded starting to feel the edge of panic. How could he talk so calmly about orchestrating his own death? How could I stop him? "I'll tell Sergeant Marks Bertie" I said grasping at straws. "If you kill yourself Bertie I will cry for you but I will never forgive you and so help me God if you don't swear to me by your mother, Zidane and all that is holy to stop right now and never even consider suicide again, not one cookie, blondie or brownie I bake will ever pass your lips again! Do you hear me?"<br />
<br />
That got him. "Now you listen to me Corrine." He said angrily, bowing out his chest.<br />
<br />
"Not one crumb." I said, glaring right back. <br />
<br />
His expression moved from angry to hurt then puzzled. He cocked his head and said, "Did you just swear at me Corrine?"<br />
<br />
A small strangled sound was all I could manage.<br />
<br />
"You did," He said. "I heard it. But why would you..." He stopped, comprehension dawning on his face. "Why Corrine, you didn't think I was planning to actually off myself did you?" He grinned with delight. "Oh, bless you silly girl, you did!" He chuckled. "My, my, what ever gave you that idea?"<br />
<br />
I gurgled and clutched his shoulders tighter resisting the urge to throttle him.<br />
<br />
"I mean really Corrine, suicide, me? No, that's for poncey brooding poets and pathetic, anorexic actresses. I'm far too brilliant a visionary to kill myself. Besides," He said tugging experimentally on the fingers which were slowly ensorcoling his neck. "everyone knows that narcissists rarely commit suicide."<br />
<br />
He flashed me a charming smile then sobered. He reached a hand out and, eyes round, placed a finger on my cheek. "You really would cry for me wouldn't you?" He whispered voice tinged with awe.<br />
<br />
"Oh Bertie" I sighed, dropping my hand to my side. "What am I to do with you?"<br />
<br />
"Well...," He said craftily. "You could start by baking me some walnut brownies."<br />
<br />
I lunged. <br />
<br />
He laughed and skipped deftly back away from my clutching fingers.<br />
<br />
"Tsk, Corrine." He said wagging a finger at me. "If your going to successfully attack people, you'll have to learn not to telegraph. I mean it wasn't so bad for a first try but that twitching eye's a dead give away." Arms akimbo, he tilted his head. "Don't worry Corrine," He said with a wink. "I'm an extremely annoying person so you're sure to get plenty of practice." <br />
<br />
I snorted not wanting to laugh.<br />
<br />
He bounced forward and clasped my hands in his. "Oh Corrine." He said with a beautific smile on his face. "For the first time since I realized I was going to be forced to become rich and famous I'm not so depressed because now I can write my book and fake my death then get back to making real art and blowing things up and gardening."<br />
<br />
"Ah, um, good?" I said tenativly.<br />
<br />
"Yes!" He said swinging our arms wide. "Cause now I have my own death muse in my entourage. This is going to be the best fake death ever!"<br />
<br />
"I am not your death muse Bertie! I shouted. "I refuse to be your death muse."<br />
<br />
But he, of course, ignored me. He had that inspired look in his eye and was already off on another tangent. "Hmmm, 'death muse'. I had planned on painting you as Demeter in the mural because Sarge said he'd kill me if I even suggested painting you naked. Pity but makes sense you being a lady and all but now I think you will be the 10th muse. Well have to come up with a Greek name for you of course. <span lang="el">εμπνευσμένη θανάτου? No, too complicated. Funny someone so sweet being a death muse but that just adds to the irony and what's art without irony. Oh so much to do. I'm going to have to make more sketches and.... are you coming Corrine? Mustn't dawdle, I've got a lot to do and you'll be late for tea." He said as he dissappeared into the main house. Oddly enough, it wasn't so much the fact that Zelig seemed to say all that in one breath that impressed me so, it was that he was also managed to whistle Vivaldi's 'Spring' under his breath at the same time. </span><br />
<br />
<span lang="el"></span><br />
Griffin was right. Unless you're prepared to use violence, arguing with Zelig is both exhusting and pointless. I smiled, shook my head and followed him through the door.biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-8048443949792744122012-06-01T13:49:00.000-04:002012-06-01T13:49:15.446-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LIV"Great story." I said patting the soil down around the last potato plant.<br />
<br />
"And so well told." Gushed Andrew, clearly smitten.<br />
<br />
Thomas
smirked, probably calculating how much ice cream he could get out of
Andrew in exchange for a good word with his mother, and continued
attaching gator clips to the clock mechanism. <br />
<br />
"Yes,"
Said Zelig. "Usually, you don't hear a story with nudity, koi ponds,
and girls covered in dessert unless Griffin's in the room." <br />
<br />
I
tried to give Zelig a stern look but had to stifle a snort. "What?"
He said. "It's true ain't it? Red goes here and blue there." He said,
turning to Thomas. "Faster to diffuse...I mean disconnect for
transport." <br />
<br />
Thomas blinked then rearranged the wires, glancing at Zelig with thoughtful calculation.<br />
<br />
I made a mental note to warn Stewart to keep those two apart.<br />
<br />
Sarah came over to help me clean up the work bench while Andrew and
Zelig hauled the window box outside to give it a good watering.
"Strange," She said. "It's been years since Walter has teased me like
that or even been pleasant to me for that matter." She frowned. "He
hasn't been mean or anything, just cold and distant. Oh, he's always
been reserved of course, that's just how he is but he would at least
tease you on occasion to show he was a bit fond of you and once in a
blue moon even smile. But not for the longest time." She gave me an
appraising look. "Tea hmm?"<br />
<br />
I nodded wiping up some dirt with a rag.<br />
<br />
"In the study?" <br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"Often?"<br />
<br />
I stopped cleaning and crossed my arms. "Any particular reason your asking?"<br />
<br />
"No...yes...I don't know." She tapped her fingers on the counter thoughtfully. "It's just that, well, it's unusual."<br />
<br />
"What, having tea? We are in England you know."<br />
<br />
She
smiled tightly. "Yes," She said. "But having tea with Walter is very
unusual. Especially in that room. I was just wondering...." She
raised a speculative eyebrow.<br />
<br />
"I've only been here for a couple of months so I can't really say what's unusual or not." I said. "Perhaps you should ask Walter." <br />
<br />
<br />
"Oh,
it's unusual all right." She shrugged. "So," She asked casually as
she examined her nails. "What's Walter into these days? Whatever do
you talk about?"<br />
<br />
"Look," I said. "I am sure you have
the best of intentions here but as you just pointed out, Walter is a
very reserved person but he has been good to Seras and me, he takes care
of us so I don't think I should repay him with gossip."<br />
<br />
She
made an annoyed sound, started to point a finger at me then dropped it
and sighed. "Your right of course." She said ruefully. "It's just
that..." She dropped her voice and leaned towards me. "I owe him for a
lot more than the shepherdess. You see, if it weren't for Walter,
Thomas,..." She choked a bit. "...Well let's just say it's important
to me that ..."<br />
<br />
"...tells the correct time and everything
and Mr. Zelig said for another 20 quid he can grow a turnip right around
an LCD clock display that's a ribbon for sure so can I grandpa please have the money?" Came
Thomas' voice as he followed Andrew and Zelig through the doorway.<br />
<br />
"I don't know Tom, $40 quid's quite a bit, besides, the science fair is less than two weeks away. There simply isn't time." Said Mr. Russell.<br />
<br />
"Plenty of time." Said Zelig wiping off his hands.<br />
<br />
Mr. Russell scratched his chin and said gently. "Now Mr. Zelig, I know your clever with the plants and all but.."<br />
<br />
"Genius, actually." Interrupted Zelig.<br />
<br />
"Yes now, but even so."<br />
<br />
"You don't think I can do it?" Sniffed Zelig.<br />
<br />
"I know you can't. Good you may be, but even you can't warp the laws of nature."<br />
<br />
"I wouldn't be too sure about that." I muttered.<br />
<br />
Zelig beamed and patted my arm. "See, Corrine believes I can do it."<br />
<br />
"Stuff and nonsense."<br />
<br />
"Ha!" Said Zelig eyes gleaming. "Care to place a wager on that?"<br />
<br />
I groaned. Here we go. I thought.<br />
<br />
"What you got in mind Private." Asked Mr. Russell.<br />
<br />
Zelig cocked his head and tapped his lips with a finger pretending to contemplate this. "Tell you what I'll do old man, seeing as I like the kid and your a veteran an all how bout we say, if I don't grow the clock on time as promised I pay you the 20 quid but, if I do produce the clock, and I of course will, you pay me the 20 plus an extra fiver for disbelieving in me. How's that sound?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know." Said Mr. Russell. "On top to the $20 I'm already paying for the one you just made. Seems a bit steep for vegetables."<br />
<br />
"Vegetable art." Corrected Zelig.<br />
<br />
"Still."<br />
<br />
"It demeans us both to quibble over that which is priceless but I can understand how an old codger such as yourself is probably on a fixed income so let's say $10 for the one I just made and Thomas' pretty little mother here poses for me as a nymph in a painting the Capitan just commissioned." He grinned winningly at Sarah. <br />
<br />
"Sounds fun." Said Sarah.<br />
<br />
"Wait a minute," Said Andrew suspiciously. "Not the 'The feast of Bacchus' mural you were sketching up the other day?"<br />
<br />
"That's the one." Said Zelig excitedly. "It's to feature the Capitan as Bacchus."<br />
<br />
"Absolutely not!" Shouted Andrew slamming some bills down on the counter. "Here's for your poxey soup clock!...That is to say, I would be honoured to treat Tommy to this clock, if he thinks it will help his grade." He said, back peddling his temper.<br />
<br />
"It's Thomas, Andy." Said Thomas petulantly but still scooping up the bills. "Are you sure you wouldn't want to pose for Mr. Zelig mother? I hear he paints a tasteful nude and I could use the extra tenner for that Lego Death Star kit I was saving for."<br />
<br />
The cheeky little so an so.<br />
<br />
"Now Thomas," Said his mother. "mustn't Tease Mr. Young when he's being so kind." She beamed prettily at Andrew who broke off staring daggers at Thomas to smile bashfully back. She pried the cash from Thomas' resisting fingers and turned to Zelig. "Here's for the lovely clock Mr. Zelig." She said handing him the money. I noticed she also slipped him her phone number. "Sorry about the posing thing. Another time perhaps?" She said smoothly then winked with her back turned so Andrew couldn't see.<br />
<br />
OK, now I see where Thomas gets it from. She's a bit of a cheeky so and so herself.<br />
<br />
Andrew, in turn, was giving Zelig a triumphant 'so there' look. Gads, men can be stupid.<br />
<br />
Zelig shrugged and turned to Mr. Russell. "So, what do you say old man?" He asked holding up the money. "You gonna jump high or stay home?"*<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Zelig may be, without a doubt, obsessed with his art to the exclusion of most everything else but gambling runs a close second. Perhaps this is because the Geese seem to have raised the practice of placing stupid bets to both the level of an art form and a blood sport. </span><br />
<br />
Mr. Russell smiled and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well now sonny, it seems wrong to steal from a crazy man but if you insist..." He said reaching for his wallet.<br />
<br />
"Oh, that I do." Grinned Zelig pulling out his betting book.<br />
<br />
"Who's holding?" Asked Mr. Russell. <br />
<br />
"Oh, please no." I whispered.<br />
<br />
"Corrine." Chorused Andrew and Zelig.<br />
<br />
"Ms. Doyle." Said Dr. Levin at the same time.<br />
<br />
"Why me?" I moaned.<br />
<br />
"Cause, you're the only one everyone trusts not to pinch the money Corrine." Said Zelig.<br />
<br />
"Oh, well, that's nice I guess." I said.<br />
<br />
"Umhmm." Said Zelig. "Plus, you got no pockets again so..." He grinned and looked meaningfully at my chest.<br />
<br />
<br />biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-17343980696705047492012-05-10T16:09:00.000-04:002012-05-29T14:05:15.681-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LIIIA lot of twists, turns and surprises today/night. Amazingly, most of them good.<br />
<br />
For starters, Miss Pringle had decided to take a personal day and Dr. Levin had been tempted out of his office by Zelig to view a special exhibit on land-mines at the British War Museum leaving Andrew to finish up the lab work on his own. It was a beautiful day and I was chomping at the bit to get outside and dig in my garden plot so I pitched in, setting up the samples for the slides while he wrote out the labels in an effort to convince him to knock off early and play hookey for a couple of hours.<br />
<br />
Andrew wasn't all that hard to tempt as:<br />
a, I was doing his work and<br />
b, Mr. Russell's very attractive and recently divorced daughter was supposed to be dropping by so, while our desires may have been mutually exclusive, our destination was not. An innocuous comment on the weather and the casual mentioning of Sarah's possible visit was all it took. We flipped on the centrifuge, snuck out of the lab and headed for the kitchen garden.<br />
<br />
I had planned to transplant the strawberry runners Mr. Russell had promised me from the main garden plot for my border but ended up in the potting shed helping his grandson, Thomas, with his school science project on Eco-friendly power sources instead.<br />
<br />
Silly, unimaginative tyke that he was, he merely wanted to make a boring old potato clock. Andrew, trying to impress the mother no doubt, suggested instead that Thomas make a clock that used a water battery so there would be no waste (I.E. no potato to throw away) at the end which would be more Eco-friendly. Thomas said "Ooo..." and Andrew ran off to lab for supplies.<br />
<br />
I had read the same article and of course had to put my 2 cents (pence?) in and suggested that the clock be made from a living, growing plant so there would not only be no waste, but oxygen produced as well. Ha! super Eco-friendly. Thomas said "Aah..." and I ran out to my plot to find a good plant.<br />
<br />
Then his grandfather, with a twinkle in his eye, suggested we create a window garden box deep enough to house several living potato plants so not only would there be no waste, there would be more oxygen and you could make potatoes Au gratin. Thomas said "Ooh!" and Mr. Russell went to pick out some wood.<br />
<br />
We adults were elbow deep into the project when it suddenly occurred to me that Thomas was actually a pretty smart kid after all.<br />
<br />
Andrew was stripping wires and I was applying primer to the window box when Zelig and Dr. Levin showed up. Zelig took it all in at a glance then immediately set to whittling a functioning mechanical clock entirely from root vegetables.<br />
<br />
Dr. Levin didn't seem to mind the change in venue a bit as, like all good British subjects, he adored gardening. He had an especial fondness for orchids and Mr. Russell had an especially nice collection of them in the bromides section of the greenhouse. The two of them wandered over to the hot house to see the jejewoodia jiewhoei specimen that had just arrived from Borneo arguing amiably over the merits of cross-species fertilization. Zelig threw out a comment about plant propagation powders before turning back to carving cogs out of a turnip. Personally, I prefer grubbing through weeds and dirt to pollinating plants with a paint brush but hey, whatever floats your boat.<br />
<br />
Walter arrived not too long after, having read the scrolling marquee note on the lab bulletin board's LED display. He took us all in with a raised eyebrow then deftly removed the comic book Thomas was reading from his hands, rolled it into a tube and firmly rapped the boy on the head with it.<br />
<br />
"Ow! Mr. Walter!"<br />
<br />
"Mr. Webber, I am quite certain that I have mentioned to you before that my staff is not to be used to complete your homework assignments." Thomas sighed, shuffled over to the planter and resignedly picked up a paint brush. "I would have hoped, of course, that the adults in this room would know better than to fall victim to your Tom Sawyer routine but I remain confident they intended to ensure you did at least a modicum of the work on your project."<br />
<br />
Andrew and I grinned sheepishly and put down our tools.<br />
<br />
Zelig glanced up and said, "What school project? I thought we were just making clocks." then went back to fastening the claw feet he had carved from some radishes to the timepiece. "Course little slick here can always buy it off me once it's done."<br />
<br />
"Or we could make soup." Snickered Andrew, just before Zelig beaned him with a beet.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry Walter, I'm afraid he's incorrigible." Said Thomas' mother, gazing at Walter with her limpid blue eyes.<br />
<br />
"Sarah Elizabeth Russell, it is my personal belief that that particular term was invented to describe you as a child."<br />
<br />
"Now Walter, I wasn't all that bad." She said pouting her pretty pink lips.<br />
<br />
"I seem to recall you convincing the cook to bake the 15 dozen cookies you needed to earn your Girl Guides baking badge."<br />
<br />
"I had a cut on my finger." She said holding up a perfectly manicured pinky.<br />
<br />
"Then there was poor captain Trent who unwittingly wrote your final essay on the Battle of Waterloo for your A levels."<br />
<br />
"I listed him in the bibliography."<br />
<br />
"Then there was the scale model wind turbine..."<br />
<br />
"I never told him to use those engine parts from the Bentley I swear!"<br />
<br />
"Hmm." Said Walter.<br />
<br />
"Perhaps, I was a just bit incorrigible." She said, smiling winsomely at him.<br />
<br />
"Perhaps?"<br />
<br />
"But I never could get one over on you. Could I Walter?" She said playfully batting her long eyelashes.<br />
<br />
"I am, alas, immune to your glamour Ms. Russell. Please practice your cantrips on a younger subject."<br />
<br />
Instead of being injured by this rebuff, Sara laughed, delighted. She turned to us grinning. "Walter has long suspected me of being a changeling." She said.<br />
<br />
I frowned and rubbed at a bit of paint on my hand. Inexplicably annoyed by this exchange.<br />
<br />
"Oh, surely not." Said Andrew ingratiatingly.<br />
<br />
"Interesting," Said Zelig. "Are you?"<br />
<br />
"Could be." She said winking.<br />
<br />
Walter cleared his throat. "Ms. Doyle, I am supervising upgrades to the roof''s gun emplacements." I smiled wiping off my hands on a rag prepared to go with him. "Perhaps we can meet in two hours in the study for tea?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, OK." I said disappointed.<br />
<br />
"Very good." He said putting his watch away. "Please do not forget to bring the Daniel Tammet biography you were going to lend me I am looking forward to reading it."<br />
<br />
Zelig looked at me suspiciously.<br />
<br />
"Sure." I said.<br />
<br />
"Excellent." He said then turned to Thomas. "Mr. Webber," He admonished the boy, who was morosely dabbing the same spot on the planter over and over again with his paintbrush, "sooner started..."<br />
<br />
"Sooner finished. Yes I know Mr. Walter." Thomas grumbled.<br />
<br />
Walter raised an eyebrow and fixed Thomas with an icy stare his fingers drumming on the comic book tube.<br />
<br />
Thomas squeaked with alarm and immediately began painting in earnest.<br />
<br />
Walter nodded satisfied then handed the comic book to Sarah. "I would recommend corporal punishment but it never seemed to work on you." He said, then left.<br />
<br />
"Ha!" Said Sarah to Walter's disappearing back. She turned to us arms akimbo. "He's awfully mean to me for a man who's seen me naked."<br />
<br />
Andrew made a strange choking sound, Zelig put down his knife and looked extremely interested. I frowned and cast a worried glance over at her son. This did not seem an appropriate conversation to have in front of a 10 year old.<br />
<br />
"Really mother," Said Thomas rolling his eyes but still painting. "She was four." He said to me.<br />
<br />
"Five, actually." She laughed as Andrew and I sagged with relief. Zelig just shrugged and went back to carving veneer inlays for the clock face from a carrot.<br />
<br />
"Well now I have to know." Said Andrew, his heart no longer broken.<br />
<br />
"It's quite a funny story actually." She said. "There used to be an annual fete held for the staff on the summer solstice. There was music and games with prizes and all kinds of food and Father would have the whole day off to spend with Mother and me. It was better than Christmas.<br />
<br />
Well, I had talked my father into buying me the the fanciest, most beautiful dress in the world the week before and, of course, insisted on wearing it to the fete. When mother found out how much daddy had spent, she went spare and forbade me to participate in the games. She said, as I was going to be wearing that dress to church for the rest of my life, I was to do nothing that might tear or stain it in the least. I almost said I didn't care because I looked so nice and already had lots of ribbons from last year but then I saw the prizes.<br />
<br />
Sir Integra's grandmother has just returned from a trip to France and had brought back the most wonderful things. There were bottles of brandy and perfume, gloves and wallets and even a haute couture hat for the adults. For the children there was candy, treats and toys of all kinds but for the first first child to win two contests, they would have their choice of either a hand wrought silver belt buckle, a tin of the worlds best Turkish Delight or this painted china shepherdess.<br />
<br />
That shepherdess was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my entire life. She was perfection from the curly blond hair spilling out from a lovely straw bonnet covered with ribbons and violets to the black velvet slipper peeking out from the hem of her palest of pale blue gown. I loved her from the moment I saw her and and would do anything to win her.<br />
<br />
I begged my mother to reconsider, offered to do extra chores, walk the dog, even clean my room but she would not budge. I tried getting my father on my side but he just patted my cheek and told me if I as good and listened to my mum he would buy me a china doll next pay day. Mother told daddy to stop spoiling me and that I was old enough to behave myself without being bribed. I tried to explain that I did not want a china doll, I wanted a shepherdess. I wanted that shepherdess and just knew I could win her so couldn't I just please, please, please, please, please sign up for the games.<br />
<br />
Mother got cross and said that I had enough dolls and didn't need another and to stop whining. That's when I made the big mistake of correcting her and telling her it was not a doll but a china shepherdess. That's when mother, who was eight months pregnant with my brother Tommy at the time, started yelling. She said she did not care if it was a china shepherdess or a golden idol, that if I were to place one foot on the lower field while wearing that dress she would flay me alive and if Father said one more word about buying me dolls she would boil him in oil. She always did get a bit cranky in her last trimester.<br />
<br />
Father, who knew better than to argue with Mother when she was angry and pregnant, tried to make peace by suggesting we go up to the gardens so Mother could sit in the shade while he and I fetched cookies and lemonade. Mother agreed and firmly took my hand to lead me away.<br />
<br />
Sadly, I turned my head to take one last look at my shepherdess where she stood dainty and beautiful amidst the other prizes on the table. I could not stand the thought of another child winning her. My heart was broken and I would never smile again.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, and I will swear this to my dying day, the shepherdess looked right at me and gave me a saucy wink. I gasped and stumbled. When I looked back she was once again a prim and proper china shepherdess standing frozen, a serene, knowing expression on her face but in that moment I knew, just knew she wanted me to win her. Mother gave my hand a jerk to get me going again and I complied, a plot fomenting in my brain.. <br />
<br />
As soon as we had settled Mother in the garden, I set my plan into action. First, I asked my father if I could go with my best friend Miriam to the gazebo to watch the tableaux then, right in the middle of Florence Nightingale's "Lady of the Lamp", I pretended to hear my mother call me. I dodged around the Splat a Rat and cut across the upper field to the top of the obstacle course. I carefully removed my dress, folded it neatly so it wouldn't crease then hid myself in a bush by the starting line and waited."<br />
<br />
We all saw where the story was going but couldn't wait to hear what happened next. Only Thomas seemed immune rolling his eyes before starting the second coat of paint on his window box.<br />
<br />
"Bang! went the starter gun." She said. "I leaped out of the bushes and on to the obstacle course just behind the other children wearing nothing but my undies, socks and patent leather shoes.<br />
<br />
By the time we hit the first wall, I had passed the stragglers and was in the thick of it. I soared over the rope pit and emerged from the crawl tunnel s neck and neck with Robert Parker who usually won everything but not today.<br />
<br />
I scrambled up the last wall like a monkey, Robert Parker a hairsbreadth behind me. From the top of the wall, I could see the finish line, just beyond the sand hazard. I was going to win.<br />
<br />
I swung my legs over the edge and jumped. Something tugged at me for a moment bringing me up short, then there was a loud ripping sound and I dropped lightly to the ground. I heard Robert Parker gasp and giggle before falling off the wall and landing face first into the sand. The crowed cheered as I raced across the finish line bare bottomed, covered in dirt and grinning like a fool."<br />
<br />
"I like this story." Said Zelig, twirling his knife. "Lots of nudity and running about. Very exciting" Andrew and I nodded our agreement.<br />
<br />
"Wait," Said Sarah. "It gets better."<br />
<br />
We leaned forward all ears.<br />
<br />
"Lord Hellsing almost fell over he was laughing so hard. He always loved a good laugh. I think even Walter smiled a bit. He used to smile sometimes back then." She said, a bit wistfully. "I did a little victory dance as I took my ribbon and had just turned to walk to the upper field for the next race when I spotted Mother waddling towards me at full steam her face like thunder.<br />
<br />
I squeaked with fear and ran for the nearest tree thinking that in her condition, she wouldn't be able to follow much further up than a couple of meters. I flew at the trunk and had just gotten a leg over the first branch when Walter plucked me from the tree like so much reluctant fruit. 'I doubt you will be safe there Miss Russell,' He said, tucking me under his arm. 'I think perhaps it would be best to come with me.' Lord Hellsing laughed even harder watching me struggle in Walter's grip. 'Quite so Walter.' He said wiping a tear from his eye. 'You smuggle that hellion to safety and I'll distract the mother.' He stopped and gave Walter a sly wink. 'For once, I'll deal with the mess while you sneak off with the girl eh?' Walter nodded and began lugging me towards the main house.<br />
<br />
You have to understand mind you that all of us children lived in awe of Walter. He was like some distant god, rarely interacting with us but was always watching. Not a cookie stolen or a prank pulled that Walter didn't catch you out and find some horrible chore for punishment. We weren't often allowed in the main house but heaven help the child who tracked mud in when we were. And the stories the adults told when they thought we weren't listening were absolutely terrifying. I mean, we all figured out about the Hellsing charter pretty early and Daddy was still on active duty back then but even he talked about Walter in whispers. He was never actually mean to us and kites would always find their way out of trees and broken dolls would invariably be mended. Still, when Walter spoke, we minded.<br />
<br />
So, you can imagine his surprise when instead of snuffling quietly and accepting my fate, I began fighting back with a vengeance. I yelled at him that we were going the wrong way and when that didn't work I tried kicking his legs and pummelling his back. I even tried biting him but he simply folded me in half and tucked me back under his arm so I hung upside-down.<br />
<br />
Still, I would not give up, demanding that he take me to the upper field. Refusing to tell him where my clothes were, insisting I was too dirty to put my dress back on anyway and that I would not take a bath no matter what, he could not make me so he might as well just let me go!<br />
<br />
So he did. Right into the koi pond.<br />
<br />
I thrashed about in the water kicking and sputtering. 'Are you clean enough now Miss Russel?' He asked. I jumped up, glaring at him prepared to make a run for it. 'I wouldn't advise it.' Said Walter. 'You won't get far.' At that moment I heard the starting gun go off for the spoon race. I burst into tears and sat right back down into the water for a good cry sobbing over and over that he'd made me miss it.<br />
<br />
'We'll have no more of that Miss Russell.' Said Walter handing me a handkerchief. 'Perhaps you should tell me what this is all about.' So I sat dripping wet in the koi pond, fish nibbling at my toes and poured my heart out to Walter. finally I asked him if he hadn't ever wanted something so much that he would do almost anything to get it, even if everyone else thought it was stupid.<br />
<br />
He was quiet a moment then said, 'Sometimes, it is not just a question of being willing to do what it takes to get what you want but also of being willing to face the consequences. Are you willing to face the consequences Miss Russell?' I nodded solemnly and hiccuped. 'Very good then Miss Russel. Blow you nose and come along' He said holding out his hand to me. He helped me from the koi pond and we started back towards the house.<br />
<br />
'But Mr. Walter,' I asked quietly. 'How am I to win? the egg and spoon was my best event and we missed it. Robert's sure to have won and next up is the blancmange eating contest and no one ever beats Robert in that.' Walter just said he had absolute faith in me and while he would not allow cheating he was not adverse to evening the odds a bit in my favour. I looked down to where my little hand disappeared inside his big, capable one. He wore fingerless gloves back then and I could see the fine, lines of countless scars running along his fingers like a spider web. I knew how he had gotten them and I knew I should be afraid of what he was but he was the only one who understood. He was the one who was going to help me win that shepherdess.<br />
<br />
And with Walter helping me, I couldn't lose.<br />
<br />
I grinned and squeezed his hand. 'we're going to win.' I said when he looked down. 'Of course.' He replied and led me into the house.<br />
<br />
As I sat down at the blancmange table I surveyed my competition. There was Robert Parker, of course, then George Pratchette who was rather cute but unfortunately prone to nose bleeds under pressure and finally William Morgan who didn't really care if he won but just liked eating blancmanges. Robert was the one to beat as his capacity for eating and belching was unrivalled by any child on the estate but thanks to Walter I had a strategy and a fighting chance. I double checked the garters fastened on the rolled up sleeves of the shirt Walter had lent me and prepared for battle.*<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Walter had dressed me in one of his old shirts which, even after belting it with a tie, still came well down past my knees. He then secured the sleeves with garters and had pulled back my hair in a tight pony tail. Lord Hellsing had taken one look at me swimming in Walter's old shirt and declared it marvellous to now have a new travel sized mini-Walter for his convenience. </span><br />
<br />
The start was sounded and I plunged face first into the blancmange without thought or finesse. I didn't even chew. Per Walter's instruction, my one and only job was to consume.<br />
<br />
While I mindlessly shovelled that sticky gelatinous mass into my mouth, Walter's tactics evened the odds. First, a word in cook's ear and the strawberry blancmange normally reserved for William, was placed in front of me while he was served the lime custard, his least favourite. That should slow him down a bit should he decide to make a go of it. Next, and I still feel a bit bad about this, Walter positioned pretty Melissa Smyth in the front row, just between Robert and George. Now, Robert had crush on Melissa while, Melissa had a thing for George and just before the signal, Melissa shouted out to George that if he should win, she was going to give him a big kiss.<br />
<br />
Robert got angry and yelled at George to stop flirting with Melissa. George was so embarrassed, that he got a nose bleed right then and there. William, took one look at George and lost his appetite. By the time any of them remembered there was a contest going on, I was half way down to the plate.<br />
<br />
I didn't stop to gloat, I just kept eating. Even when I heard my mother's angry voice as she ploughed through the crowed, I didn't slow down. I just kept shovelling that blancmange into my mouth until there was nothing left but plate.<br />
<br />
Next I knew, a smiling Lord Hellsing had swung me up from the bench and pinned a 1st place ribbon to my sticky chest declaring that he'd never seen the like. Then, with swat on the behind, he sent me over to a waiting Walter forestalling my parents with a request to allow Walter to at least clean the condemned before her execution. Father consented, trying not to laugh. Mother frowned but nodded.<br />
<br />
Savouring my last moments of freedom, I raced up the slope ahead of Walter and with a savage war cry, leapt into the koi pond. Walter, eventually fished me out of the pond and within 10 minutes I was dried, dressed, brushed and looking neat as a pin. My shoes, of course, were ruined but my dress was spotless.<br />
<br />
Walter asked me if I was ready to pay the piper, I said yes and he bowed and offered me his arm. The stalwart knight escorting his brave princess to her doom.<br />
<br />
It was the the happiest moment of my life. I mean I knew I was in trouble and I felt bad for making Mother angry but standing there, with the shepherdess in my hands at last it all went away. There was only me and my shepherdess. I stared down at her and stroked her cheek lovingly. Her serene gaze assured me she had never doubted for a moment that I would win her.<br />
<br />
I missed two sleepovers and had to sweep the kitchen and feed the dog for a month but it was worth it. I've never worked so hard for anything before or since." Her eyes got a faraway cast. "You know, I didn't keep a lot of things from when I was little but I kept her, I kept my shepherdess. Still have her." She smiled impishly then winked. "That, and my hopeless crush on Walter." She quipped.biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-72225075674512584912012-01-19T22:35:00.091-05:002012-03-01T19:41:43.499-05:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LII"I can explain that." Said Seras.<br /><br />"Please do." Said Walter.<br /><br />And she did.<br /><br />Three times actually.<br /><br />The first time to Walter, the Geese and myself, then she had to start over again when a disgruntled Captain Chambers came charging in with a damp, but no longer so sticky corp. Beddings demanding to know what was so blasted funny about that 'heathen she-devil' attacking one of his men. Finally, after Captain Burnadett stopped laughing, Walter selected a handful of us to troop over to Sir Integra's office to relate the hilarious content of the evenings exploits for her amusement.<br /><br />Well, she wasn't so much amused as annoyed...Then interested...Then extremely, disturbingly, interested and focused on me.<br /><br />"...Then after I disabled the alarm and jimmied the lock on the roof vent, I broke through the fire wall, swung down the sprinkler pipes, crawled across the drop ceiling, popped out one of the tiles and jumped down. That's when I encountered Beddings and was forced to subdue him so he wouldn't sound the alarm."<br /><br />"And how precisely was that accomplished?" Asked Sir Integra.<br /><br />"I, um...ahem, hit him with the tea tray and shoved him in a closet."<br /><br />This story might seem horribly embarrassing for corp. Beddings but he still looked over at Seras with a mixture of gratitude and grudging respect because the full truth of the matter, if the mental images I was picking up from Seras were correct, was far more embarrassing.<br /><br />Apparently, Beddings had been juggling the tray in one hand in an effort to sneak a taste of the home-made quince jelly captain Chamber's mother had sent and that said captain had requested be brought up with his evening tea. He had just gotten a spoonful into his mouth when Seras had dropped down from the ceiling. Startled, he had tossed up his arms causing the tray and its contents to go flying. Seras had caught the tray but the teapot, cup, toast and plates had all crashed to the floor and the jam pot had landed top-side down, on the poor corporal's head.<br /><br />To make matters worse, he had tried to back peddle away from her only to slip and fall in a puddle of tea, all while trying to scream through a mouth full of spoon and quince jelly. Unfortunately,when Seras had gone to help him, she had also slipped on the tea and had instead ended up clocking him in the head with the tray she had forgotten she was still holding,thus knocking him unconscious and spreading jelly all down the front of his uniform.<br /><br />So in actuality, Beddings had pretty much subdued himself. With just a bit of help from Seras.<br /><br />All things considered, I think they both made the right choice in letting the official version stand uncontested.<br /><br />Seras did however, after a gentle mental nudge from me, spill the beans about using the secret tunnel. Which was really hard for her as she was so chuffed over the proud gleam she saw in Walter's eye when she described how cleverly she had distracted me and defeated Stewart's tracking device with an air filled plastic zip lock bag filched from the kitchen.<br /><br />Marks had given me a highly suspicious glance but couldn't prove a thing. Telepathy can be fun.<br /><br />Also by unspoken agreement, Seras and I both decided not to mention that brief bit of blending that seemed to occur towards the end. We wanted a little time to mull this over, just between us two before others tried to jump in and analyse it.<br /><br />As Seras was winding down her report to Sir Integra and answering final questions, I began to feel an itchy awareness crawling up my spine and over my scalp.<br /><br />Alucard.<br /><br />He was there but not there. Opening a red eye in the back of my brain and using me as an antenna of sorts to focus his non-corperal presence. A silent chuckle rolled like an oily caress across my cerebellum as he shuffled through my recent recollections comparing them to what was being said tsking once or twice over our little white omissions. <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"> </span>" I see that I am going to have to tutor the two of you on the art of lying. You're pathetic, the both of you really and that reflects badly on me as your master." </span><br /><br />I snorted derisively attempting to turn it into a sneeze to deflect the curious glances my interruption had gained. <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> "Oh now </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">that's just sad."</span> Sent Alucard <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"Are you deliberately trying to embarrass me? If so, it's working."</span><br /><br />I actually had to fake another sneeze to keep from giggling. He sounded just like my mother whenever she caught me opening a bag of Doritos or some other pesky plastic container with my expensively straightened teeth.*<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*This admonition pretty much covered mastication of any and all sundry non-food items including, but not limited to; biting off my sewing thread, chewing on pens and, of course, crunching on ice. Which, while technically a food item, is quite simply, in my mother's book, just wrong. </span>**<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">**Interestingly enough, the cost of straightening my teeth by my mother's calculation seemed increase exponentially with each infraction until I was quite certain, even after adjusting for inflation, that my parents had paid more more for my orthodontia than NASA had spent sending a man to the moon. Give or take a few million.</span><br /><br />"Gesundheit'?" Said Marks sceptically as he and Walter both offered me a handkerchief.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"Interesting."</span> Quipped Alucard. As I diplomatically dabbed my face with one of the tissues Anders had given me earlier for my bloody nose.<br /><br style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"Please go away."</span> I sent as he scuttled across my frontal lobe tickling me from the inside and causing me to sneeze for real this time. "Oh, drat!" I said as my nose started bleeding again. Ack, what a mess.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"I think you look prettier that way but perhaps it's not me you wish to impress." </span><br /><br style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"Oh, go </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);" class="st"><em>psychologically</em></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"> scar someone else. I'm busy here."</span> I growled as I attempted to staunch the bleeding.<br /><br />It was then I noticed everyone was looking at me funny. Had I said that last bit out loud? "Whad?" I asked, pinching my nose.<br /><br />"You growled." Said Marks, smiling slightly.<br /><br />"Dib by?"<br /><br />He nodded, eyes twinkling.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"Oh, tell me it's not that inebriated Visigoth your trying to impress? How disappointing." </span> Muttered Alucard, his razor edged eye scything through my brain matter.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"Ow! Get out!"</span> I sent. Stamping my foot and earning more stares.<br /><br />Sir Integra tapped her fingers on her desks impatiently. "If you are both quite through playing?" She asked with raised eyebrow.<br /><br />"Of course" Came Alucard's voice directly behind me. I had felt him materialize and knew he was there but still startled slightly when his hand came down possessively on my shoulder.<br /><br />An odd discourse ensued as we discussed possible practical applications for my new found skills. When it was pointed out that a schematic might not always be available for whatever structure was being scanned, it was suggested that my link with Seras could be used as a reference point to judge how close or far from the target she was. A sort of undead game of "warmer,colder,hot!" and it was agreed that we should immediately begin field testing both the range and accuracy of my abilities.<br /><br />We enthusiastically began drawing up plans while Alucard blithely made both helpful and non-helpful suggestions. I participated as best I could but kept getting distracted whenever Alucard would fix his ferric gaze on the sgt. then lightly trace his fingers over the pentagram bruise on my left shoulder blade a challenging smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Marks, in turn, would throw back a casual smile at me while thoughtfully tapping his fingers over the silver tipped wooden stake he kept strapped just behind his gun holster.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"Oh I do love the alpha males, they're so easy to bait." </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"Oh and your such a sweet tempered little puppy."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"No, I am the wolf to their lap dog. Feral and powerful beyond their darkest imaginings. They may play at the hunt but I am the true predator. Their wants and desires, their very lives are of no consequence to me"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"And yet you fight beside them. Protect their lives."</span><br style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"The master finds them useful so they live. It is her that I serve for as long as she has the cunning and will to control me. But this one" </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">He said, indicating Marks.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"I might have to kill him just on general principle."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"That principle being?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"He annoys me."</span><br /><br />I rolled my eyes.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"Besides, he dares interfere with my Angel and I did not go all this trouble just so some cur could sniff after you. I did not make you for the likes of him.</span>"</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"I suppose then you 'made' me for the likes of her, that cross dressing master of yours?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"Perhaps."</span><br style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"You can not control whom I like and dislike."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"You might think so but you would be wrong. Oh sweet Angel,"</span> He said twisting a lock of my hair around his finger. <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> "I have such wonderful plans for you. I simply will not allow something as unimportant as your delusions of free will get in the way of our success."</span><br /><br />I snorted and thought about hiding communion wafers in his coffin.<br /><br />The discussion around Sir Integra's desk began winding down. It had been decided that as soon as I could pass a final field test driving the Tortoise I would be sent out with the Geese on a mission.<br /><br />"She shan't be exiting the vehicle but I suppose we should still arm her so she's not totally defenceless." Said Sir Integra. "Can you fire a gun Doyle?"<br /><br />"Well..."<br /><br />"Well what? Can you shoot or not?"<br /><br />"Oh, I can shoot a gun, no problem. Hitting the target well, that's another matter." I said, thinking back on my one and only mortifying trip ever to a firing range.<br /><br />This earned me an an icy stare from Sir Integra and an amused smile from Alucard as he retrieved the mental image of the one spot on the assailant target I had finally managed to hit. "Well that would certainly slow a human male down but I am not certain how effective it would be on a ghoul."<br /><br />I flushed and bit my tongue.<br /><br />"Always aim for the head or the heart." Seras chimed in helpfully.<br /><br />"Oh, she hit the head all right." He chuckled. "Just not the one you're thinking of."<br /><br />Seras blushed and smothered a giggle as Alucard sent her the image.<br /><br />The captain smiled as he tut, tutted me with a finger. "Very naughty of you Chanson. We best be careful with the safety when we train her then, eh Marks?"<br /><br />Marks grinned and even Sir Integra twitched her lips slightly.<br /><br />I ground my teeth and wondered out loud about getting my hands on some holy water. Which just made Alucard laugh harder.<br /><br />"I think it would be best for me to handle this aspect of Ms. Doyle's training." Said Walter quietly and without a trace of humor.<br /><br />"Yes." Said Sir Integra, her gaze sliding across the room's occupants thoughtfully. "I think that would be best."<br /><br />The captain looked indifferent, Marks seemed mildly annoyed, Alucard, as always, looked smug and Walter, well, as far as I could tell under his placid façade, seemed I guess the word would be satisfied.<br /><br />I can only assume this was because with that statement, this whole messy, jam filled, fruit throwing, nose bleeding, target shooting incident could be drawn to a close and some semblance of order restored to his domain. I was more than happy to comply.biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-88889122849408389402011-11-29T17:31:00.079-05:002012-01-30T16:33:24.535-05:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LII looked up and sagged with relief to see Seras standing in the doorway then surged upward in a panic, dumping Anders off my back in the process, when I saw the blood dripping from her hand where she clutched the blade of Zelig's knife just inches from her left eye.<br /><br />"Ahhh! Seras, what did he do to you? Don't worry, I'm coming, I'm coming!" I screeched, bowling aside several armed mercenarys who happened to be in my way. I careened into the captain who had reached her before me then rebounded off Sherman before shoving my way back to her side.<br /><br />"Is it bad? Let me see. Oh my poor baby! My poor, poor baby." I crooned. I kicked up such a fuss, the captain was forced to interrupt his tending of Seras' wound and relinquish her hand so that I could examine it. Tears continued to roll down my cheeks even after Seras assured me she was OK and showed me how the cut was already closing on its own.<br /><br />"You see Chanson," Said the captain as he tucked me under his arm and chucked Seras under her chin. "ma pauvre carotte découpée peu, she shall be whole again quite soon." He laughed ruefully as Seras batted his hand away. "You, on the other hand are still bleeding." He said handing me a tissue. so I could staunch the nose bleed which had started back up again. "Perhaps I shall start calling you lapin de chant."<br /><br />"And this reminds me...Zelig!"<br /><br />Zelig, who had been standing motionless, eyes wide and round as he gazed at Seras throughout the entire exchange, finally spoke. "That," He said in a breathless reverent tone. "was absolutely outstanding."<br /><br />"It bloody well wasn't!" Shouted Seras.<br /><br />"Totally spectacular." He said, dreamily. "Only wish I'd thought to film it."<br /><br />"I've got my camera." Offered Sherman.<br /><br />"Excellent." Said Zelig clapping his hands and grinning. "Let's do it again! Ready Victoria?" He asked reaching for his boot knife.<br /><br />"What? No!" Yelped Seras.<br /><br />"Ow! What was that for Capitan?" Asked Zelig rubbing the back of his head where Burnadett had slapped him.<br /><br />"What part of 'Hold your fire' did you not understand?" Growled the captain.<br /><br />"But I didn't shoot her, I threw a knife now now didn't I?"<br /><br />"Paugh!" Said the captain.<br /><br />"Well, he's got a point." Said Sherman. "Ow! Wha'd I do Sarge?"<br /><br />"Stop encouraging him." Said Marks.<br /><br />"You see," Said Zelig deftly dodging a second smack from the captain. "The way I figured it, if it wasn't Victoria busting in here then someone had better slow whatever it was down but if it was her, well, it's not like it was going to kill her... seeing as how she's already dead."<br /><br />The captain stopped, hand poised mid-strike as he digested Zelig's logic.<br /><br />"Well I'll be damned." Said Marks. "He actually does have a point."<br /><br />"Yes, excellent job Zelig," Said the captain sarcastically. "Wounding Victoria and making our Corrine cry was just an added bonus then, no?"<br /><br />Zelig, who up to this point had been looking pretty pleased with himself, stiffened turned to me with a look of consternation. "Is this true Corrine?"<br /><br />"Yes Bertie."<br /><br />He walked over and peered up into my face. "But why? It makes your face all blotchy." He asked puzzled.<br /><br />"Because Bertie, you hurt Seras. You hurt someone I love."<br /><br />"So when I hurt Victoria, I hurt you."<br /><br />"Yes Bertie."<br /><br />"And made you cry."<br /><br />"Yes Bertie."<br /><br />"Because you love her?"<br /><br />"Yes."<br /><br />"Oh." He reached out and placed a finger on my cheek. "And if someone were to hurt me Corrine," He asked solemnly. "would it make you cry?"<br /><br />"You know Bertie, I believe I would."<br /><br />"Everyone should have someone to cry for them." He whispered, tracing the wet track of one of my tears down my face. He turned to Seras and said somberly. "I'm sorry I threw a knife at you and made Corrine cry."<br /><br />You could have heard a pin drop. Zelig never apologized for anything. Ever.<br /><br />"Well, no permanent harm done." Said Seras grudgingly.<br /><br />"So next time, I'll just make sure Corrine's not around before I throw the knife." He said beaming up at her with inspiration.<br /><br />"Aaand he's back." Said Stewart shaking his head ruefully.<br /><br />"You bloody well won't!" Shouted Seras. "I'll throw it right back at that big stupid head of yours see if I don't!"<br /><br />"Fair enough." Shrugged Zelig, who was always willing to suffer for his art. "But could you aim for the shoulder or the upper arm so I don't snuff it? Ah, iridescent." He said holding his finger which was still damp from my tears up to the light. "Lovely"<br /><br />Seras stared at him with a mixture of horror and pity. "My God," She said quietly. "You really are insane aren't you?"<br /><br />"Can't prove it in court." He said slyly as he tilted his head and shrugged one shoulder. Then his eyes lit up again and he flashed her the most charming grin. "Come on Victoria, we'll post on You Tube. It will be fantastic!"<br /><br />"Probably go viral!" Said Sherman enthusiastically. "Ow! Sarge, what?"<br /><br />Marks raised an eyebrow.<br /><br />"Oh right, 'encouraging'." He said. "Still think it would be cool." He muttered under his breath.<br /><br />"What do you say Victoria?"<br /><br />"No."<br /><br />"Hmmm." Said Zelig. "We'll film it in in the grotto I think."<br /><br />"I said no."<br /><br />"Oooo. and dress you as Artemis in a lovely white toga."<br /><br />"No!"<br /><br />"Will her left breast be exposed?" Asked the captain.<br /><br />"Well that goes without saying."<br /><br />"I like it."<br /><br />"No! Never! Absolutely not! Listen to me you demented dwarf, I'm not going to do it ever!"<br /><br />He sighed. "Fine you Philistine, we'll fuzzy out the naughty bits."<br /><br />The assorted boos and catcalls were interrupted by a cultured and, according to sgt. Marks, satanic voice. "Much as I am sure Ms. Victoria would look positively delightful in a toga, I am afraid the non-publicity clause in her employee contract will not allow for you to continue in this endeavour Mr. Zelig. And on a possibly unrelated note, would anyone care to explain to me why it is I have found poor corporal Beddings stuffed in the supply closet and covered with jam?"biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-44848768223112219462011-09-14T09:21:00.105-04:002011-12-26T22:17:49.261-05:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING LThe "Irish Ballad" went over so well that I was going to follow it up with "We will all Go Together When we Go" but Bulls came over and offered me a Kit Kat to sing "The Banks O'Doon" so I sang that instead. I was about halfway through "Will Ye Go Lassie Go?", (I really like Kit Kats), when Seras went to ground and Stewart and I discovered our limitations.<br /><br />Seras had slipped into the catacombs under the estate and as soon as she passed the family crypt and entered the caves I lost my mental map and found it almost impossible to track her. Stewart, in turn, was learning that the signal from a small, portable tracking device rapidly loses strength through several meters of solid rock.<br /><br />I needed to focus, so while Stewart muttered about redheads and tried to tweak the signal, I switched to hymns.<br /><br />" <span style="font-style: italic;">I come to the garden alone...</span>"<br /><br />I can feel her...<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">while the dew is still on the roses...</span>"<br /><br />but where exactly is she? I closed my eyes and let the words flow through me.<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><br /><br />"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the son of God discloses<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">...</span></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"</span><br /><br />Suddenly, my eyes snapped open and my body began to rotate, orienting itself to face Seras' position. "She's there." I murmured, pointing roughly downward and to the left. <span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />"</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;">And, He walks with me, and He talks with me</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">..."</span><br /><br />Stewart pounded away on his keyboard and cursed cheap Chinese batteries and 'bloody undead redheads'.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">And He tells me that I am His own</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">..."</span><br /><br />"Interesting," Said Marks. "This could have some potential."<br /><br />"Hmmn" The captain said as he sidled up to me. "This is good Chanson" He said touching my shoulder. "but in what direction is she moving?"<br /><br />I didn't stop singing, just raised my other arm and traced a line in the air. <span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />"</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;">And the joy we share as we tarry there</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">..."</span><br /><br />"Du sud-est" Said the captain.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">none other</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">,</span>..."</span><br /><br />"Some very definite potential." Said Marks as he checked his compass.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">has ever,</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">..."</span> .<br /><br />"C'est très bon mon champignon chéri. Said Burnadett. "Now, how fast is she travelling?"<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">...</span>known</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">."</span><br /><br />"She's walking." I murmured then frowned, puzzled, and reached for my dictionary. "Why a mushroom? Are we out of root vegetables already? "<br /><br />"Possibly." evaded the captain, as he lit a cigarette.<br /><br />"I begin to suspect you have a vitamin deficiency."<br /><br />"I begin to suspect you both of a deficiency." Said Marks. "Have you forgotten we are tracking a vampire here?"<br /><br />"Sorry." I said trying to concentrate. I closed my eyes and tried to be good and find Seras, but it just popped out. "What about carrots? You haven't yet called me a carrot."<br /><br />"Alas, there is but room for only one carrot in my heart and she has gone deep under the the ground. Will you find her for me Chanson? Will you please find ma carotte douce et croquante for me?"<br /><br />"OK, now your just being creepy."<br /><br />"Stop distracting her!" Roared Marks.<br /><br />"She started it."<br /><br />"Did not!"<br /><br />He glared us both into silence.<br /><br />"Got her!" Shouted Stewart triumphantly.<br /><br />"Glad someone's still working." Said Marks causticity. "How'd you boost the signal?"<br /><br />"Didn't have too. I tapped into the com lines we ran through the caves."<br /><br />"Good thought but that won't help us when we're hunting in a location where you haven't installed your spy-ware. Now, don't give me that look Corrine." He said, turning to me. "We'll uninstall it when our contracts over...and the final payment clears."<br /><br />I huffed.<br /><br />"And don't you go running to that butler!"<br /><br />"You mean 'der Teufel'" I asked innocently.<br /><br />"Yes, him!" He said picking up Stewart's extra laptop. "I am in fact, a bit surprised that he hasn't already found and disabled...oh, fluch dumm von mir. Stewart! I want diagnostics run on all of your equipment first thing in the morning! "<br /><br />"Sarge?"<br /><br />"Were looking for bugs."<br /><br />"Right Sarge!"<br /><br />"You," Said Marks, turning to the captain. "I have an idea so, stop distracting her!" He said as he booted up the computer.<br /><br />"Aren't you supposed to be the boss round here?" I whispered.<br /><br />"I am, when it matters." Shrugged Burnadett. "The rest of the time, pheh, he can have it." He took a deep drag off his cigarette then wafted away in cloud of philosophical smoke.<br /><br />"And you," Marks said leading me back over to Stewart. "Now, don't take this the wrong way Corrine but, shut up and sing."<br /><br />I nodded and closed my eyes.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">..."</span><br /><br />"Nice." Said Stewart.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">That saved a wretch like me</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">...."</span><br /><br />"Very nice." Said Marks. "Now,"<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">I once was lost</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">..."</span><br /><br />"find her for me Corrine." He took my hand and placed it on the laptop screen.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"</span>but now am found<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">..."</span></span><br /><br />"Find your little friend liebst ." He said as he released my hand.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"</span>Was blind<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">..."</span></span><br /><br />"Show me where she is."<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"</span>but now I see.<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">.."</span><br /><br />I pointed.<br /><br />"She's dead on." I heard Stewart say.<br /><br />I opened my eyes and saw a schematic of the cave system glowing on the laptop screen in front of me and that my finger was pointing to a cave on said screen that corresponded exactly to the cave on Stewart's screen with the blinking red "Seras" dot. I blinked back, amazed.<br /><br />"Excellent." Said Marks, placing himself between Stewart and me so I could not see the other screen. "Now, show me where she is going."<br /><br />I Smiled and closed my eyes again.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">Twas Grace that taught my heart to fear</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">...."</span><br /><br />It grew easier and easier as the song progressed. I just rolled along with the lyrics and occasionally pointed my finger. I didn't even have to open my eyes, I just waited for the distant sound of Stewart's voice confirming my hits. I was also vaguely aware that the Geese had gathered around me as we went on and could feel their undivided interest but I simply placed that knowledge to one side letting it add to the murmuring background noise of the living and non-living things around me.<br /><br />It was almost too easy, I was literally finding Seras with my eyes closed. But then the little minx swung into the grotto and I started to pick up a second signal.<br /><br />I tried to ignore it but it was like those old "silent" fans they used to have in the escalator shaft at Montgomery Ward that would whine, just on the edge of awareness, pressing in on your eardrums and vibrating against your fillings. Impossible to ignore. It was a horrible creeping wrongness that, at all costs, I could not, must not believe was real. But it was there, a persistent, unpleasant, festering void, painfully demanding my attention like a cavity. Every time I tried to bat it away and deny it, it stabbed back harder. It was like biting over and over on a piece of tinfoil. My head was pounding and I began to sweat with the effort of denial.<br /><br />I became so wrapped up in defending against her diversion that I almost missed Seras exiting the cave. I muttered under my breath and cursed her mentally while I tried to refocus. Someone was touching my shoulder, trying to get my attention but I shook them off stabbing viscously at the computer screen with my finger. She wasn't getting away from me! not after that little stunt.<br /><br />Somewhere in the background, I distantly heard Stewart's voice somewhere droning 'no, wrong. wrong way!' but I did not care. I had her now and she was moving fast through the stockpile caverns. up and east.<br /><br />"No," Stewart buzzed, "South!"<br /><br />Someone was pulling on my arm. They were beginning to annoy me. I redoubled my efforts to focus.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"</span>Rock of Ages<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">,..."</span> </span><br /><br />Seras was on a roll now. zooming under the motor pool towards the proving grounds.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"</span>cleft for me<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">..."</span></span><br /><br />Then, just like that, she was on the surface smack dab in the middle of the obstetrical course. There must have been a hidden exit that I wasn't aware of.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">Let me hide myself in thee</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">..."</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>Suddenly, I was right there with her. I felt her stretch her limbs and revel in her strength as she effortlessly leaped to the top of the climbing wall to get her bearings.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">Let the water and the blood</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">,..."</span><br /><br />I could feel the cool night breeze caressing our face and smell the green spring growth.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">From Thy wounded side which flowed</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">,..."</span><br /><br />We grinned with pleasure at the sleepy murmurs of small animals around us, matching our pulses up with the rhythm of their sweet living heartbeats, our hunger temporally dulled by sentimental yearning to hold on to this illusion of being alive once more, if only for a moment.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">"</span><span style="font-style: italic;">be of sin the double cure</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">,..."</span><br /><br />We sighed, 'oh well' and turned to face the barracks.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"</span>save from wrath<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">,..."</span></span><br /><br />Work to be done. Now, how best to approach the target?<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">"</span>and make me pure<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);">..."</span><br /><br />Hands were gripping us, shaking us. We slapped them away annoyed. Something wet and stinging cold hit our face just above our upper lip. We reached up and touched our face confused. Seras' hand came away wet from a raindrop. My hand was wet from...Whoof!<br /><br />Without warning, I was enveloped in a chemical haze. I came up coughing and sputtering, my eyes watering like mad.<br /><br />"What?" I gasped shoving Anders hand out from under my nose. "What are you doing! Why did you do that?"<br /><br />"You were unresponsive." He said showing me the ammonia capsule he held in one hand.<br /><br />"So?"<br /><br />"And bleeding." He said holding up a pink tinged alcohol pad with his other hand.<br /><br />"But I had her! I was locked in. I had her right here!" I shouted as I pointed to my temple. "And you made me lose her!"<br /><br />"I'm sorry Corrine but you didn't." Said Stewart.<br /><br />I whirled on him. "I had her." I ground out between clenched teeth.<br /><br />"Sorry luv but no. You lost her just outside the grotto and have been pointing the wrong way ever since. See?" He said tapping his computer screen.<br /><br />I glared at the screen and saw where my hits and the signal from the tracking device diverged. I slumped, I had been so sure.<br /><br />"Its OK Corrine you were doing great till ..."<br /><br />"Wait a second. Isn't that a water channel ?" I asked tracing the path Stewart's computer said Seras had taken with a finger.<br /><br />"Yes, so?"<br /><br />"So your telling me that Seras ran into the grotto, jumped off the bridge into freezing cold water, swam down the canal, waded through the settling pools then...., crawled through a 12 inch feeder pipe so she could paddle around in leisurely circles in the cistern?"<br /><br />"What is this?" Barked Marks. Grabbing the screen.<br /><br />"As opposed to her barrelling through solid rock and tunnelling under the motor pool? Yes."<br /><br />"So she what, collapsed her skeleton and grew gills?"<br /><br />"No, she chewed through solid rock and popped out of the ground like a daisy!"<br /><br />"Oh don't be stupid."<br /><br />"Stupid!"<br /><br />Marks slammed the computer back down on the table. "So which is it? Is she a fish or a mole now?" He asked glaring at us.<br /><br />I opened my mouth to answer, then hesitated because:<br />a, there was probably a reason the Geese didn't know about the tunnel under the motor pool &<br />b, they had automatically assumed I was the one who lost track of Seras. Jerks!<br /><br />"She could, I suppose be a platypus, they both swim and burrow...or an otter." Offered Zelig.<br /><br />"An otter?!" Shouted Marks.<br /><br />"Well a river otter maybe." I mused. My feelings were still a bit hurt.<br /><br />"Otters? Cuttlefish! What is it with you two and the zoology lessons today?"<br /><br />"An artist. A true artist should study and understand his subjects." Said Zelig smugly.<br /><br />"I watch a lot of PBS." I shrugged.<br /><br />"Ridiculous!" barked Marks. "This gets us nowhere."<br /><br />"Perhaps, because you miss the obvious." Said the Capitan strolling back over in a blanket of Turkish smog.<br /><br />"Do, tell." Growled Marks.<br /><br />"Well, you see our little Corrine here, she did not actually claim that Victoria tunnelled her way out of the caves did she?"<br /><br />"Well, no but..."<br /><br />"Perhaps, this is because the tunnel was already there. Perhaps what you should have asked yourself mon amie was where, in this cavern," He said tapping the screen. "a tunnel entrance could be hidden no?"<br /><br />"But we've thoroughly searched those caverns Blaven even pinged them with the sonar when..."<br /><br />"The weapons lockers!" Said Blaven smacking his hand on his forehead. "The auxiliary units behind the machine shop. They was already installed before we got here and it were them regs*, not us, that moved the merchandise into that particular area."<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*Regs; regular soldiers or as Griffin liked to put it, "The poor slobs who hav'ta follow regulations as well as orders.". In this case, Capt. Chamber's men.<br /></span><br />"Hmmn that butler did oversee the final mountings in that area himself but he did that for the main weapons lockers as well. Still, all that lead and steel might mask a tunnel from the sonar and the frames of the lockers would definitely conceal any seams that might normally give the entrance away...It's the perfect little bolt hole."<br /><br />The captain nodded. "Hidden in plain sight, easily barricaded, one maybe two men could cover your escape."<br /><br />"You could even re-arm yourself on the way out. Marks continued.<br /><br />"And all that ammo." Said Zelig. "Probably has the whole cave rigged to blow once they're clear. Ha, genius!"<br /><br />Griffin whistled in appreciation. "Total death trap. Sweet!"<br /><br />"Undead trap you mean." Said Sherman. "Take a ghoul awhile to dig their way out of that. It'd even slow that Alucard down a bit I bet. No wonder they didn't want us to know about it."<br /><br />"It's bloody brilliant." Said Stewart. "Perhaps Mr. Walter is the devil."<br /><br />"Or works for her anyway." Said Anders.<br /><br />That got an amused snort from several of the men.<br /><br />"This," Said Marks. "is a very good thing to know. This, is the sort of thing that can guarantee final payment. This, is the sort of thing that bonuses are made of!" He finished rubbing his hands together with glee.<br /><br />"Yeah, the 'shut your trap' variety." Snickered Griffin.<br /><br />I stood gaping at them aghast. No wonder they had been kept in the dark about the escape tunnel.<br /><br />"The word you are searching for Chanson is 'mercenary'." Grinned the captain.<br /><br />"So where did you say the tunnel exits Corrine?" Asked Stewart.<br /><br />"I didn't!" I snapped.<br /><br />"Here, by the motor pool?" He asked pointing to a storage shed.<br /><br />"Garage makes mooore sense." Said Bulls. "Could snag a vehicle an stay unner cover while looden it." They all looked at me expectantly.<br /><br />"I take it back. She's in the cistern." I evaded.<br /><br />"Oh come off it Corrine." Said Stewart. "You beat me fair and square. Now, be a mate and spill."<br /><br />I shook my head.<br /><br />"We are your friends now ain't we Corrine?" Asked Griffin crowding into my space.<br /><br />I nodded warily.<br /><br />"So, friends share." He said, reaching out and plucking an invisible piece of fluff from my hair. He leaned in and rumbled in my ear. "Why not be a good friend and share now?"<br /><br />"Go play with Nurse Pringle, Hoss." I said pushing him away with a finger.<br /><br />"Aww Come on Rin, play nice and tell us."<br /><br />I thinned my lips and shook my head mulishly. I'd done enough damage to Hellsing for one night.<br /><br />"Leave her be!" Growled Marks elbowing the Griffin mountain to one side. "We understand liebst." He nodded to me. "Loyalty's a complicated thing for people with scruples. It's why I avoid having them. You don't have to tell us. We'll figure it out on our own. Give this idiot something better to do than put his hands where they don't belong." He said warningly to Griffin. "Someone might just chop off his arm and feed it to him one day."<br /><br />"Has everyone forgotten that we are tracking a vampire here?" Asked the Captain mimicking Marks' voice as he pulled out and frowned at his BlackBerry. Marks had his out as well and Stewart had swung back around to his computer screen and was typing like crazy. "Speaking of which, something has tripped several perimeter alarms. Perhaps it would be wise to see if it is your little friend before we shoot it no?" He said glancing at me.<br /><br />"Yes!" I agreed and closed my eyes in preparation but before I could so much as sing a note, there was crashing sound and the tinkle of breaking glass overhead followed by a strangled scream in the corridor.<br /><br />Marks cursed and stepped in front of me. All of the Geese had drawn their weapons.<br /><br />The door burst open and I was pushed to the ground knocking the breath out of me before I was able to shout "No, don't shoot!". Someone was on top of me shielding my body I desperately tried to buck him off me terrified for Seras so I almost missed Burnadett's barked order to "Hold your fire!" just as Seras burst into the room singing "Rock of Ages" at the top of her lungs.<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">While I draw this fleeting br...</span>bloody hell Zelig watch where you're throwing those things."biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-47711711756791592152011-08-18T20:00:00.142-04:002011-11-29T17:41:29.202-05:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLIX"I'm afraid this is really going to be annoying for Seras." I said.<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >"Oh yes?" asked the captain hopefully.<br /><br />"Try not to look too thrilled." I said. "You got her cell number?"<br /><br />"Speed dial one." He said pulling out his phone and grinning.<br /><br />"OK. Don't call her yet. Just be ready."<br /><br />And so, much to Seras' exasperation, began "The Great Vampire Hunt". Well maybe "Great" is bit of a stretch but the title "The Highly Educational Yet, Terribly Interesting And Vastly Entertaining Search for Seras across the Hellsing Estate" while more accurate is, in my humble god-like opinion, a bit too convoluted for public consumption.<br /><br />Basically; I sang, Seras ran and the captain made crank calls.<br /><br />Specifically; I demonstrated my new-found ability to locate and track the movements of the undead from a "relatively" safe distance.<br /><br />It was a bit like the method I had been using to send messages and images to Seras for the last couple of weeks but, instead of throwing balls of thought at her to catch; I was casting my awareness out like a net to find her position without actually sending her any sort of message. It's a bit like sonar but instead of using sound, I was using thought to "see" without being seen or sensed rather. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >It was the not the sensing part for me that had been hard to learn. At this point, I could find Seras in my sleep but the not being sensed part, that was much harder and according to Alucard, being quite key to my future survival in the field, the reason for my most recent set of bruises.<br /><br />I am apparently clumsy as an ox and loud as, well, a “stupid, clumsy ox” on the psychic plane. It was annoying enough, he said, that he had to listen to me "squawking" at the top of my mental lungs as Seras and I "blathered on and on like idiots", but one moronic misstep while I was scanning a building for vampires and I would not only give away my physical location but expose myself to a possible mental backlash that could leave me brain dead, if I were lucky or howling, gibbering mad if I were not. Gosh, he's fun. So he taught me how to make my general thoughts more diffuse so they would blend in with the background and create a sort of mental white noise while I was casting out and sifting through the echoes in my net.<br /><br />Here, is where the quick have a slight advantage over the dead. You see, life is everywhere and living things, even if it is on the most rudimentary level, think and thinking creates waves or noise if you will, on the psychic plane. And humans, apparently, make a lot of noise. Not, according to Alucard, because we are sentient or self aware but because we are so unbelievably self-centered. From our first breath to our last, we humans literally sing a non-stop chorus of "Me, me, me, me, I, I, I!”. When I pointed out to him that he was without a doubt, hands down, the most egotistical, self centered creature I had ever met, he laughed and said of course he was and rightfully so but vampires, already being aware of their extreme superiority over all living things, felt no need to muck up the aether chuntering on about it. That, and the fact that one vampire is just as likely to attack and destroy another vampire just for the fun if it, or maybe that was just him.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Either way, not so much noise.<br /><br />So, the advantage for me then was that a human can theoretically learn to blend their thoughts in with the thoughts of the quite literally millions of their fellow living creatures in a given acre but the undead are usually quite spare on the ground and therefore, once you knew what to look for, much easier to spot. Think of it this way, if you had a portable brain wave scanner pointed at a goldfish, you could expect at least some reading be it the smallest of wiggles, you would not however expect any reading from say a grandfather clock or bowl of soup*.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*Should you get such a reading from a grandfather clock, I suggest you check for mice. Should you get such a reading from your soup, I suggest that you immediately throw it away.<br /></span><br />At first, I tried to just be background noise when looking for Seras and not human at all, just a random living thing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I tried thoughts like “How lovely to be an ant today” and “perhaps I can grow my roots a bit deeper to reach that water.” But what came across to Seras was more like: “OK, so, I’m an ant now, hmmm.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">..</span>What do ants think?...</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >‘</span><span class="small-caps" style="font-size:100%;">EVERYTHING NOT FORBIDDEN IS COMPULSORY’... OK, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >T.H. White notwithstanding?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">...</span></span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >‘Mammy, mammy, mammy’</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >...Ack! No stop it...Perhaps if I were a plant...Plants need water so...OWW!...Did he just throw a grape at me?..." and so on.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">So after Alucard's gentle prompting I worked on being human background noise. Just a generic human no one in particular. Certainly no one who had any interest whatsoever in vampires or other such non-existent nonsense. This went over almost as well as the ant disguise. You know how when a cat pretends it is not in the least bit interested in the bird hopping a few feet away from it? Well, I was the cat, Seras was the bird and Alucard was a big pile of rocks landing on my head.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">Eventually, after much bruising and an ear full of raspberry juice, (where does he get all of that fruit?) I finally hit on a method that would focus most of my random and subconscious thoughts away from the task at hand while also masking my scans as background noise but still leaving me nominally aware of my surroundings.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">I sang.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">When I sing, I tend to sing loud, both on the physical and psychic plane and when I really get into a song I start broadcasting my thoughts and emotions across those planes as well. These broadcasts can be used to both mask and enhance my ability to sweep a given area for the non-living. So instead of hearing "Gee, I wonder if there are any vampires about?" they hear "Do wah ditty ditty dum ditty do." or something of the kind. It was so annoyingly simple, I could of kicked myself.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">The tricky part is to not think about what you are doing and learning not to get distracted while you are doing it. That, apparently, is where the fruit comes in. Because believe me, having odd bits of produce hurled at you with inhuman force at unpredictable intervals is very distracting. Not to mention painful, sticky and more than a bit humiliating. But if a piece of my pride and the ability to wear short sleeve shirts in public is the cost I have to pay to save the life of one of my boys, it's a bargain. Just don't tell them that. They're cocky enough as it is. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">It was pretty routine at first. I would tell the captain where Seras was then he would call her up and confirm her location, then he would harangue her with a description of several interesting things that a young, healthy and exceptionally flexible couple could do with each other in that particular room. Normally I would chastise him but Stewart needed time to track her signal and many of his suggestions were quite intriguing. It's been a very long time and I'm only human.*</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:85%;">*No really, I got the all clear about a week ago from the lab staff. I am altered but now officially, "mostly human". </span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">...Anyway.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">It worked splendidly for about 20 minutes and six rooms until a particularly intriguing scenario involving a card catalog drawer and one of the rolling ladders in the library put forth by the captain, caused Seras to throw her cell phone into the fireplace. Stewart tried to bring her another one but she merely thanked him sweetly then promptly locked it in her sock drawer.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">So much for that, I thought but a clever Stewart had secreted a tracking device on her uniform so we were back in business. Only this time, instead of pinging Seras and waiting for conformation of her location, we were able to test my ability to track her movements in, real time.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">It was kind of surreal, but in a fun way. I would be rolling along singing, say a Jim Croce song, and seemingly random words and phrases would slide into the lyrics such as, "...and if you go down there you'd better just beware of she's in the laundry room..." or "...I'm in love with a roller derby rose parlor..." and the like. And once Seras got warmed up to the game, it became a real challenge to keep track of her. She's sneaky and can move real fast.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">I even managed, for the most part, not to get distracted by what was going on around me. I slipped a bit when I made the mistake of starting to sing "Like a Prayer" forgetting Griffin's visceral dislike of all things Madonna. Personally, I can take her or leave her but I've always sounded good singing that particular tune so I went for it. But then I had to listen him him gripe about how annoying Madonna was coupled with Sherman's "At least she's sexy, now that Sade, she's annoying...and bald." ??? A point which Griffin grudgingly conceded 'but still'...</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"...When you call my name it's Sinéad O'Connor..." I sang at them.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Where the what?" Asked Stewart hands pausing above his keyboard where he was plotting my sightings over his tracking signal.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"...I want to take you portrait gallery..." I corrected.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">Stewart narrowed his eyes at us but resumed typing.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"That's right," said Sherman, "Sade's the one with those pouty lips."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Right." Said Griffin. "Nothin annoying bout those lips. Not-at-all. You can sing a Sade song if ya like Corrine, I won't mind. Just no more Madonna."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Or Sinéad O'Connor." Added Sherman.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Right." Agreed Griffin. "Too annoying." ... "So, ya gonna sing a Sade song Corrine?"<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">I clacked my tongue against my teeth trying to to focus on not focusing. Lips indeed. I only wish I knew any Sinéad O'Connor songs. Annoying? I'd give them annoying. I'd give them annoying real loud.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"<span style="font-weight: bold;">I had a dream, a dream about you, baby.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"> It's gonna come true, baby.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"> They think that we're through, but baby,</span>..."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"What the bloody..?" Yelped Stewart.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"...<span style="font-weight: bold;">You'll be swell! You'll be great! She's just now at the east gate...</span>" I sang disgustingly satisfied with myself.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"You two, leave her alone before it gets worse."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"What could be worse than Ethel Merman?" Asked Sherman.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">I grinned evilly.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"No, Don't!" Shouted Stewart who was more familiar with my repertoire.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">But it was too late.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"<span style="font-weight: bold;">Wave your little hand and whisper </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">So long dearie...</span>"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Dear God what is that?" Barked the captain.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"<span style="font-weight: bold;">...You ain't gonna see me anymore...</span>"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Carol Channing." Sighed Stewart.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"<span style="font-weight: bold;">...And when you discover that your life is dreary...</span>"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"It's quite, loud." Offered Marks.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"<span style="font-weight: bold;">Don't you come a knockin' at my door...</span>"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Yes." Agreed Stewart.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"<span style="font-weight: bold;">...cause I'll be all dolled up </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">And singin' that song..</span>."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"And kinda scary." Added Sherman.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"<span style="font-weight: bold;">... That says you dog, I told you so...</span>"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Yep, she dead on perfect so,..."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"<span style="font-weight: bold;">...So wave your little hand and whisper</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">So long dearie...</span>"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"bugger off will you before she decides to do the second verse!"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">The were several cries of distress and promises of good behavior and one 'I kind o' like it' from Bulls before they hit him.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal; font-weight: bold;">"Dearie, should have said so long<br />So long ago!!!!"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I</span> <span style="font-weight: normal;">finished</span> <span style="font-weight: normal;">with a flourish and took a sip of Fresca.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Stewart raised a questioning eyebrow.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">"She doubled back at the proving grounds and is headed back towards the front entrance." I said smugly.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">He grunted and typed in the coordinates.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">"Pretty cocky she is for a vampire's piñata." Muttered Blaven.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I sucked in an indignant breath and scanned my mental catalog of obnoxious songs</span> <span style="font-weight: normal;">prepared to make ears bleed.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"How bout a nice ballad?" Asked Marks quickly offering me another Fresca.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"Of course." I said sweetly. "How kind." murmured taking the offered soda.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"About a maid I'll sing a song,</p><pre><span style="font-size:130%;">Sing rickety-tickety-tin..."</span></pre> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">"You have to love a girl who can sing Tom Lehrer." Said Marks smiling.<br /></p>biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-69140710530885419962011-08-07T23:04:00.049-04:002011-08-18T20:25:03.648-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLVIISeveral thoughts raced through my mind in that moment not the least of which was astonishment that a man with only one eye could have such excellent depth perception and, of course, a mental note to kill Griffin. But first and foremost was the sinking realization that I was way in over my head. Fortunately, the one upshot to being trained by a vampire is that you learn to think fast and move even faster. I mean, once you've decided between fight and flight, it's just a question of looking for the exits.
<br />
<br />"Well..." I said, then snatched the bowl of popcorn from Blaven's hands and threw it at the captain's head while simultaneously launching myself up and over the back of the couch. I landed with a thump, on my bad shoulder of course, muttered under my breath then popped up just in time to see an explosion of popcorn wash over a retuning Sherman and Anders as the bowl hit the wall inches from the door frame.
<br />
<br />"What in God's name...?" Said Anders.
<br />
<br />"Nimble little minx ain't she?" Said Sherman plucking a kernel off of his shoulder and tossing it in his mouth.
<br />
<br />"Sure is." Said Marks. "I mean girls often run from the Capitan, just usually not that fast."
<br />
<br />"Shut it." Said Burnadett.
<br />
<br />"I was eating that." Said Blaven reproachfully.
<br />
<br />"You too."
<br />
<br />"Now Chanson, this is just silly." He said stepping around the sofa towards me. I backed away, carefully keeping the bulk of the couch between us while mentally calculating the distance to the door.
<br />
<br />"Tut, tut Chanson," He said wagging his finger at me. "We both know I will beat you to that door." I knew this to be true. I haven't voluntarily run since my sophomore year of high school.
<br />"Come back to me mon radis épicé and all will be forgiven."
<br />
<br />"Did you just call me a radish?"
<br />
<br />"I but express my tender feelings for you mon igname de chine visqueuse. Now come over here this moment or I will tackle you to the ground."
<br />
<br />I edged a little further away from him.
<br />
<br />"Fine, I promise not to spray you with the hose."
<br />
<br />I hesitated, uncertain.
<br />
<br />"Come now, " He said extending his arm out to me, palm up. "I just wish to talk, nothing more honnête."
<br />
<br />"Ha!"
<br />
<br />"You doubt my honesty?'
<br />
<br />"Always."
<br />
<br />"She is a smart one." Said Marks.
<br />
<br />"Then we are at an impasse."
<br />
<br />"Give Griffin back his chip." I said.
<br />
<br />"What?"
<br />
<br />"You heard me."
<br />
<br />"You wound me Chanson."
<br />
<br />"You'll get over it. Give Griffin back the chip and tell him the deal is off and I'll come over."
<br />
<br />"She's got your number Pip." Said Marks.
<br />
<br />The captain crossed his arms and gave me a speculative look. "Perhaps she does mon aime, perhaps she does." He threw back his head and laughed. "Very well Chanson, I give you your way. My apologies Griffin," He said tossing back the chip. "but one must always defer to the ladies."
<br />
<br />"Aww Cap'n."
<br />
<br />"...and our Corrine is, above all things, a lady." He held out his hand to me as I walked over. "Is she not?"
<br />
<br />"Well, yeah." Said Griffin despondently.
<br />
<br />"Told you." Said Stewart, winking at me.
<br />
<br />It's not ladylike to stick out your tongue so I settled for a dainty roll of the eyes.
<br />
<br />"Now that is better." Said Burnadett settling me back on the couch and sitting on the arm. "I still can not comprehend why you were so difficult. Is it, you know," He bent over me and whispered. "your woman's time?"
<br />
<br />I pushed him off the couch.
<br />
<br />"Is that a yes?" He asked rolling gracefully to his feet.
<br />
<br />"No!"
<br />
<br />"Then why...?"
<br />
<br />"I was trying to prove a point."
<br />
<br />"This point being?"
<br />
<br />"How utterly impossible it is to deal with you when you won't stay on topic or give a straight answer."
<br />
<br />"When have I ever done this?" He asked astonished.
<br />
<br />"You do it to Seras all the time. She can't have a single conversation with you without you reciting a dirty limerick, singing a bawdy song or just asking her inappropriate questions about...about..."
<br />
<br />"About?" he said grinning.
<br />
<br />"About...Inappropriate things." I finished lamely.
<br />
<br />"Ahh Chanson I see," He said taking my hand in his. "and I am so flattered that you wish to imitate me but, sadly, my sweet friend you are doing it all wrong."
<br />
<br />"What?"
<br />
<br />"Surely you see that you lack the gentle timing, the subtle wit needed for proper teasing."
<br />
<br />"Meaning?"
<br />
<br />"Meaning, when I do it it is funny and charming. When you do it, well, it's just annoying."
<br />
<br />I gasped.
<br />
<br />"It is not your fault Chanson." He said patting my hand like I was a small child. "Some people just aren't clever enough that's all."
<br />
<br />I pulled my hand from his grasp. "You! You...arrgh!
<br />
<br />"I think it's cute the way she can't say it." Said Stewart.
<br />
<br />"What do you expect, I heard her say 'fudgesicles' when she hit the floor earlier." Said Blaven.
<br />
<br />"I like when she says 'Jiminy Cricket'." Offered Zelig. "Makes me think of Disneyland."
<br />
<br />"Then there's 'sugar beets'" Said Griffin.
<br />
<br />I covered my face with my hands .
<br />
<br />"Aww it's OK Corrine." He said. "We all think it's cute but really there are some word's, ya know natural words between a man and a woman and sometimes between a man and a ..."
<br />
<br />Marks smacked Griffin on the head. "Why don't you save up that charm for nurse Pringle."
<br />
<br />"I've got plenty enough to share round Sarge... Ow!"
<br />
<br />"Trust me, you don't."
<br />
<br />"Have you even asked her yet?" Interrupted an exasperated Anders
<br />
<br />"Hadn't quite gotten to that yet." Said Stewart. "The Capitan was having too much fun."
<br />
<br />"I was working my way round to it." Said Burnadett.
<br />
<br />"Oh for the love of..." Said Anders striding over to me. "Corrine, we want to know if that vampire is still using us as an excuse to hurt you during training."
<br />
<br />"Now what would make you ask a silly question like that?" I said looking down at my feet.
<br />
<br />"Just answer." Said Anders.
<br />
<br />"No, of course not." I said to the ceiling.
<br />
<br />"Oh, that's just sad." Said Stewart.
<br />
<br />"Pathetic," Agreed Griffin. "Forest Gump wouldn't buy that one."
<br />
<br />"What's that supposed to mean?"
<br />
<br />"It means, Chanson, that you are possibly the worst person at lying that I have ever met." Said Burnadett shaking his head in wonder. "How have you managed to survive this long in this modern age?"
<br />
<br />"I..."
<br />
<br />The captain stopped me, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking deep into my eyes. "Cuts and bruises and broken bones are fine, expected even as you say, during training. You can pierce, tattoo, even brand yourself on your own time no matter. It is not our business or concern. But, that vampire, using threats against us to force you to endure abuse, that Chanson, is our business and not to be tolerated."
<br />
<br />I looked up from his solemn gaze to the earnest expressions reflected around the room. A bunch of school-yard bullies, the lot of them, banding together to defend their geeky sister from the baddest bully of them all. It was totally unnecessary and stupidly suicidal but ever so wonderful of them to even think it.
<br />
<br />"Oh," I said, choking up with emotion. "Oh that's so...thank you...that's sweet. I threw my arms around Burnadett's neck and gave him a squeeze. "You are all.." I said taking his face in my hands and planting a big kiss on his cheek. "so very sweet. The lot of you!" I said throwing my arms wide to encompass them all. "But totally unnecessary." I said.
<br />
<br />" So, these bruises have nothing to do with us? Nothing whatsoever?" Asked Anders.
<br />
<br />"Well, I didn't say that." Anders started to protest so I held up my hand. "Now let explain. No, better yet, let me show you."
<br />
<br />biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-47514038243896914212011-06-29T10:37:00.064-04:002011-08-10T12:37:31.085-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLVII froze, handful of popcorn halfway to my mouth. "Me?"
<br />
<br />"You." He said.
<br />
<br />I blinked up at him innocently. "What?"
<br />
<br />He crossed his arms and scowled.
<br />
<br />"Oh that. Hadn't we finished talking about that?" I asked examining a kernel before popping it in my mouth.
<br />
<br />"No, we have not."
<br />
<br />"Are you quite sure? I felt certain we had finished." I said, tossing in three more kernels.
<br />
<br />"Non."
<br />
<br />"Hm num mum mum." I said stuffing the rest of the popcorn in my mouth and grabbing another handful from the bowl.
<br />
<br />"Stop stalling Chanson. We are going to discuss this."
<br />
<br />"Of course." I said docilely. "Oh, did you see the new girl Cook just hired?" (She asked innocuously.)
<br />
<br />"Nice try Corrine, but it won't work." Said Marks.
<br />
<br />"Is she pretty?" Asked Burnadett. "No, no, Marks is right. You will not distract us from this Chanson."
<br />
<br />"Wouldn't dream of it Pip." I said amiably. "Is that a cuttlefish your carving Berti or are you moving on to Cthulhu <span class="st"><em></em></span>myths?"
<br />
<br />"Cthulhu, cuttlefish don't have legs Corrine."
<br />
<br />"Yes but neither do most Cthulhu gods."
<br />
<br />"True, but see he's chewing on H.P. Lovecraft here."
<br />
<br />"Ah, yes, I see. Quite...Realistic."
<br />
<br />"Of course."
<br />
<br />"Zelig." Said Stewart mildly. "We weren't going to get distracted today remember?"
<br />
<br />"Focusing right?"
<br />
<br />"Right." Said Stewart "Shame on you Corrine." He said, wagging a finger at me.
<br />
<br />I attempted to look chastised.
<br />
<br />"You are talking instead of listening Chanson."
<br />
<br />"Yes, of course, I'm all ears." I said.
<br />
<br />"They're my favorite you know?" Said Zelig.
<br />
<br />"What?" I asked.
<br />
<br />"Cuttlefish. they're my favorite invertebrate."
<br />
<br />"Mine too!"
<br />
<br />"I love how they change color and shape at will, I wish I could do that. If I could do that I could be my own art all the time." He sighed.
<br />
<br />"Zelig!" Roared the Captain.
<br />
<br />"What? Oooh, right! Focusing."
<br />
<br />"And you." Growled Burnadett turning back towards me. "No more talking unless you are answering my direct questions."
<br />
<br />I mimed locking up my mouth and tossing the key.
<br />
<br />The captain shook his head and sighed. "Now Chanson, it is not so much the bruises as it is..." He frowned at me as I plucked an ice cube from my water glass and began sliding it down my neck. "As it.... What are you doing?" He asked, interrupting himself.
<br />
<br />"It's hot in here." I said.
<br />
<br />"It's not that hot." He said.
<br />
<br />"It's stifling!" I argued, sliding the ice cube back up my neck.
<br />
<br />Marks snorted and shook his head grinning.
<br />
<br />The captain pointed an angry finger at me and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Griffin. "Jet," He said to Blaven. "I will give you 50 to make her spill that whole glass down her shirt."
<br />
<br />"What?" I yelped, accidentally dropping the ice cube down my cleavage.
<br />
<br />"Dollars or Pounds?"
<br />
<br />"Dollars."
<br />
<br />"Pfft."
<br />
<br />"Fine, pounds."
<br />
<br />"Eh" Said Blaven.
<br />
<br />"75" Said Griffin staring intently at the spreading damp spot on the front of my shirt. Why oh why did I wear white today?
<br />
<br />"Wellll."
<br />
<br />"You stay out of this Griffin!" I yelled.
<br />
<br />The captain placed his fists on his hips and tilted his head at me. "Non Chanson, you started this show for everyone but I warn you, mon petit navet, Griffin, he always calls the bluff and Blaven will do anything for money."
<br />
<br />"True." Said Blaven.
<br />
<br />I slammed the glass down on the coffee table as far away from him as possible.
<br />
<br />"Hey!" Shouted Zelig. "Oh no wait, hmmm" He said dipping his finger in a droplet of spilled water and tracing it along the grain. "Ahh yes, I see." He said reaching for his knife and whistling a selection from "Peter and the Wolf".
<br />
<br />The captain pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You," He said. "are being astoundingly annoying tonight. I am thinking that your dear mother did not spank you nearly enough as a child." He glanced at me thoughtfully for a moment. "I am thinking perhaps that I shall take Griffin's money but instead of this little glass I drag you outside and spray you down with the hose."
<br />
<br />"Ha!" I scoffed then stiffened as I looked up at him. "You wouldn't dare."
<br />
<br />"Ah, wouldn't I?" He said smiling crookedly. "Two things you should know about me mon cher panais, there is nothing I don't dare and..." He paused a moment to lean over me and place his hands on the back of the couch to either side of my head. "I rarely bluff."
<br />
<br />"But..." I whispered then fell silent as he raised one arm and snapped his fingers.
<br />
<br />I watched, horrified as a blue poker chip arced its way across the room towards us. Gaze never leaving mine, he snatched it from the air then brought his hand down before my face. "Care to risk it?" he asked holding the chip up with two fingers.biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-21544513995571879472011-05-28T14:42:00.094-04:002011-06-23T14:15:30.934-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLV"That is one spectacular set of bruises." Said corp. Sherman taking a picture of the suspiciously kiwi shaped line of marks running up the side of my calf to just above my knee. "Definitely going in the album." *<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">[*One of Corporal Sherman's many odd hobbies is taking pictures of "interesting" injuries and sharing them with his friends back home in West Virginia. He also enjoys fashioning jewelry from spent shell casings for his mother and sisters and preparing and eating things that most people would not actually consider food. He's quite versatile really and unabashedly, unashamedly proud of his call sign "Hillbilly".]<br /></span><br />"You should see my right shoulder."<br /><br />"Really?" he said tugging at the loose button down shirt I had pulled on over my tank top. "Holy Moses!"<br /><br />"Hey! If anyone is undressing women in this barracks it is to be me and... Mon dieu! Is that a pentagram?" Said Burnadett.<br /><br />"I think so." I said, twisting my head around. "I can't really see it."<br /><br />"Hold still Corrine! I'm going to want a close up of this." Said Sherman. "Captain, would you hold this pen up next to it for scale?"<br /><br />The Captain frowned but complied.<br /><br />"Good. Now one with me in it. Will you take the picture Doc?"<br /><br />"I'll shove it down your throat. Zieke aangeboren idiot." Said Anders.<br /><br />He handed me an Ice pack for my leg and bent down to examine my shoulder. "And how exactly did this one happen?" He asked.<br /><br />"Well, I ducked when he threw an orange at me so..." I shrugged.<br /><br />"So what'd he use on you, blueberries or something?" Asked Sherman, undaunted by Anders' glare.<br /><br />"Currents actually."<br /><br />"Close range was it?"<br /><br />"About 25 feet away."<br /><br />Sherman whistled. "Impressive." He said reaching almost reverently towards my shoulder. "Such precision."<br /><br />"Dwaas! Verlof alvorens ik u sloeg." Snapped Anders as he slapped Sherman's hand away.<br /><br />"Oh bite me Doc! She don't mind why should you?"<br /><br />Anders turned to Marks. "Please make him go away."<br /><br />"Oh you give me a headache. Why don't you both go away." Said Burnadett.<br /><br />"Excellent idea." Said Marks. "Both of you out."<br /><br />"What! Your kidding right?" Sputtered Sherman.<br /><br />"That's two laps Sherman." Said Marks who did not like to ask twice. "Now."<br /><br />Sherman stomped off, muttering under his breath.<br /><br />Anders looked inclined to argue as well but wisely kept his mouth shut. He instead mutely held up the ointment jar he had pulled out of his bag.<br /><br />"I'll take care of it." Said Marks gently lifting the jar from Anders' hand. "You go cool off Häckchen ." He said giving him a friendly but firm shove towards the door.<br /><br />Marks had turned to frown down at me so he never saw the look of pure adoration Anders gave him just before walking out the door. It was then I realized that Lukas Anders would walk though Hell and back without blinking just to bring Sergeant Marks a thimble full of water. I am not sure why as I was pretty sure that Marks had just called him a tick.<br /><br />Marks shook his head "Was sind wir, zum mit ihm zu tun?" he asked Burnadett.<br /><br />"Es erhält schlechter." The captain replied.<br /><br />"Ich weiß." Marks turned back to me his hands on his hips. "Und was sind wir, zum mit Ihnen mein liebes zu tun?"<br /><br />"Speak English for a start." I answered tartly as I pawed through my German/English dictionary**. He'd used that last phrase on me before though so I had a pretty god idea what he meant.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">[**You won't last long with the Geese unless you speak at least three languages and/or are wiling to carry several language dictionaries with you at all times.***</span>]<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">[*** I at one point bought this real nifty, and highly expensive, audio translation gadget online but made the fatal mistake of letting Zelig "see" it so it is now in several hopeless pieces. On the upside, I now have a lovely hi-tech broach that can swear at you in five different languages. I can't even get my money back as Burnadett pointed out the "Zelig" principle**** applies to civilians as well as Geese.</span>]<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">[****If you were stupid enough to let him touch it, you deserve what you got.*****]<br /><br />[ *****You will not be surprised to hear that Zelig is as proud to have a principle named after him as is of being "an excellent debater".]</span><br /><br />"God I love a sassy woman." He said as he knelt down behind me. He unscrewed the lid and the the scent of peppermint and cloves wafted towards me. He scooped up a generous portion of the salve onto his fingers and began applying it to the bruises on my shoulder. I shivered a bit as the cold burning sensation touched my skin. He chuckled.<br /><br />"It's cold." I said defensively.<br /><br />He bent in close. "And here I thought it was me." He said in my ear as he ran his thumb along the edge of my shoulder blade. I shivered again.<br /><br />I blushed. "Well, it's not." I snapped, feeling flustered and a bit embarrassed.<br /><br />"As you say, sassy." He chuckled, giving my shoulder a final rub before handing me the jar. "but I bet Anders doesn't make you shiver like that."<br /><br />I sniffed disdainfully and started rubbing the ointment on my right arm.<br /><br />Burnadett cleared his throat. "If you two are quite finished playing doctor, we actually do have things to discuss."<br /><br />I blushed harder and glared at him. Not quite liking the flutter in my stomach or the smug expressions on both their faces. I opened my mouth to retort but the captain held up his hand placatingly.<br /><br />"Trêve, Chanson. C'est important."<br /><br />"All right, shoot." I said. Turning to rub the salve on my left arm.<br /><br />"We, that is, some of us..." He said gesturing to indicate himself and the others in the room. "We have some, concerns about...well, that." He said pointing to my poor, abused arm.<br /><br />"What, the bruises?" I asked.<br /><br />"In part, yes."<br /><br />"But you guys get stuff like this all the time, worse even, just training."<br /><br />"Yes, I know but..."<br /><br />"Is it because I'm a girl?"<br /><br />"No..."<br /><br />Zelig, who had been happily carving a quazi-mythical surrealist scene into the coffee table that would have given Hieronymus Bosch the willies<em> </em>snorted. "Like we've never fought girls before." He turned to Stewart who was playing cards with Griffin and Bulls. "Hey remember that Mossad chick? What was her name again? "<br /><br />"Which one? Adara or Miriam?"<br /><br />"The one who tried to off the Capitan."<br /><br />"Well they both did eventually as I recall."<br /><br />"No. the first time."<br /><br />"Ah, Miriam."<br /><br />"Yeah Miriam." Zelig sighed wistfully. "She was wicked good with a knife."<br /><br />"You guys fought against Mossad?"<br /><br />"No, they hired us for a gig in Syria." Said Griffin.<br /><br />"But then why did they try to kill...?"<br /><br />"He has this effect on women." Sighed Marks. "It's quite tiresome actually."<br /><br />"Ho, ho, quite amusing you are today." Quipped Burnadett. "She was a double agent." He said turning to me. "I caught her signalling our position to the enemy and she tried to convince me to keep quiet at the point of her knife so..." He shrugged.<br /><br />"Why do I suspect I don't want to know what that 'so' means?" I asked.<br /><br />"Because you, Chanson, are a smart girl." He replied.<br /><br />"Hmm," I said. "And the other one? This Adara?"<br /><br />"Ah, well, that you may say was more in the nature of a misunderstanding." Said the Captain.<br /><br />"Misunderstanding?" Snorted Marks. "More in the nature of you not being able to keep your lips or other disgusting body parts to yourself."<br /><br />"Watch your step now, private."<br /><br />"You slept with a Mossad agent?" I asked.<br /><br />"No of course not. What do you take me for?"<br /><br />"Then why...?"<br /><br />"He slept with her sister." Said Marks.<br /><br />"Oh."<br /><br />"And her best friend."<br /><br />"Ah."<br /><br />"And her mother."<br /><br />"Eeek!"<br /><br />"Exactly."<br /><br />"Oh Pip tell me you didn't really?"<br /><br />"Who knew they'd compare notes?" Said Burnadett, giving me a sheepish smile.<br /><br />"He's a menace to decent women everywhere Corrine. You and Victoria are best advised to avoid him at all cost." Quipped Marks.<br /><br />"You know we're going to have to come up with a whole new set of ranks just to cover how low I'm going to bust you." Growled the Captain. Marks shrugged indifferently. It was well known that he used Velcro to attach his ever changing rank insignia to his uniforms. As long as he got his contracted percentages and the men followed orders he didn't care what rank he was.<br /><br />"And your a one to talk." Continued the Capitan. "At least I didn't sleep with the cabinet ministers daughter."<br /><br />"So?"<br /><br />"So? We were lucky to get out of there alive!"<br /><br />"Oh you exaggerate. He wasn't that mad"<br /><br />"Just what every Israeli politician dreams of, a big giant Aryan kraut such as yourself to father his grandchildren."<br /><br />"We got our bonus didn't we?"<br /><br />"Only because he wanted those negatives destroyed and you gone."<br /><br />"Exactly." Said Marks spreading his hands. "You got a bloody nose and I got us a bonus. Who's the menace now?"<br /><br />"You are." Said the Captain grinning. "This is why I hired you."<br /><br />"Exactly." Nodded Marks smiling back.<br /><br />"This is better than TV." I said to Blaven who had plunked down beside me with a bowl of popcorn. "You guys are like a soap opera, with knives and guns."<br /><br />"Oui." He said. "I used to watch that Sopranos program but after I joined the Geese it just seemed boring by comparison."<br /><br />"Umhm. I agreed, swallowing a mouthful of popcorn. "Excuse me." I said raising my hand for attention. "Could I get clarification on that 'negatives' statement?"<br /><br />"You see," Marks said. "sometimes, after we finish a job, the people who hire us seem to forget the specific terms of our ah, verbal agreement and try to offer us more of a take it leave it sort of settlement."<br /><br />"Yeah," Said Griffin. "As in take your sh-gear and leave the country or else."<br /><br />"And it's not like we can un-kill people if they don't pay up." Said Zelig without glancing up from the Furies he was carving one of which had a suspiciously Sir Integra-ish cast to its scowling countenance.<br /><br />"Exactly." Said Marks. "So it always pays to have some 'insurance' laid by just in case someone decides to lose his long term memory. A special little reminder for the invoice, as it were."<br /><br />"You would think all of your nice shiny guns and grenades would be argument enough to pay"<br /><br />"Surprisingly, this is not always the case. Some men feel they are immune to such things."<br /><br />"Petty dictators, military Junta leaders...?"<br /><br />"Oh no, most third world dictators have a healthy respect for the men with the guns. It's usually how they got to be dictators in the first place. They tend to appreciate the value of our services. They pay on time and in cash"<br /><br />"Really?"<br /><br />"Some of our best repeat customers are fascists." Said the Captain.<br /><br />"No it's the petty politician from the 'civilized' industrial nation that tends to get a bit stingy when the bill comes due." Said Marks. "Especially if he's been playing fast and loose with the slush fund. So I like to make sure we have a little dirt on our clients so they won't be tempted to try and renegotiate."<br /><br />"Who knew the life of a mercenary could be so complicated." I mused.<br /><br /><br />"Oui." Said Burnadett. "This is what Marks is for. He could get dirt on the Pope if he wanted to."<br /><br />"True, true." Said Marks.<br /><br />"Oooo." I said. "So what do you have on Sir Integra?"<br /><br />Marks cleared his throat. "That's confidential."<br /><br />"Aw come on spill it. Please." I asked as endearingly as I could.<br /><br />"Sorry, that would be unprofessional."<br /><br />I raised my eyebrows and pondered this statement a moment. "You've got nothing." I gasped.<br /><br />We locked gazes for about 10 seconds then he looked away and growled. "Not a damn thing!"<br /><br />"Is that unusual?"<br /><br />"It's unheard of." Said the Captain. "No one gets to where she is without doing some very naughty things and Marks can always find them."<br /><br />"You can barley find proof that she exists much less anything incriminating. Not like her father, Mein Gott, the things that man did makes Pip look a saint. "<br /><br />"Wow!" I said glancing at Burnadett. "Maybe there's nothing there. She's pretty straight laced."<br /><br />"No one is that clean." Said the Captain.<br /><br />"I tell you it's that damn butler of hers! Everywhere I look, he's been there, fixing the witnesses and scrubbing the files. No one will talk. I swear, er bin der Teufel!"<br /><br />"He is quite good isn't he?" Said Burnadett with a smirk. "It's almost uncanny how he keeps ahead of you so thoroughly"<br /><br />"He is der Teufel I tell you but he won't beat me!"<br /><br />"Well, I guess it's part of his job you know to cover Hellsing's tracks."<br /><br />Marks narrowed his eyes at me. "Oh yes, I forgot, you like that officious, annoying man. How disappointing of you."<br /><br />I glared at him. "You should just be thankful I like annoying people or we might not be on speaking terms right now."<br /><br />Marks glared back at me as if he wanted to order me to do two laps.<br /><br />"Oh, you are just angry that there is someone out there who can do something better than you for once." Said Burnadett. "It's about time, helps to build the character."<br /><br />"Then you must have a very well built character at this point."<br /><br />"Such humour out of you today! I am thinking to add the rank of slug or worm to the list. Whichever is lower. "<br /><br />"Worms are longer." Said Griffin.<br /><br />"But slugs are taller." Said Stewart.<br /><br />"Worm it is." Said the Capitan. "Perhaps even a tape worm. Zelig!"<br /><br />"Sir?"<br /><br />"I want a tape worm insignia designed and ready by 16:00 tomorrow."<br /><br />"Got it!"<br /><br />"Besides," He said turning back to Marks. "I do not care if Mr Dollneaz or his mistress is Satan himself, as long as the bill is paid on time, which it is, every month, like clockwork. I would spend more time worrying about der Teufel in the basement then the ones upstairs if I were you mon ami.<br /><br />"And this reminds me." He said turning back to me.biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-63319008496017263962011-04-27T11:17:00.062-04:002011-06-09T15:52:43.491-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLIV'Thwack'<br /><br />"Ouch!"<br /><br />"Try Again."<br /><br />'Thwack'<br /><br />"Ouch!"<br /><br />"Wrong. Try again."<br /><br />Thwack'<br /><br />"Ouch! Hey! stop it!"<br /><br />"No."<br /><br />"But.." 'Thwack!'<br /><br />"Shut up and concentrate."<br /><br />"How am I supposed to concentrate when you keep throwing..." 'Thwack "Ouch! That hurt!"<br /><br />"Stop wingeing you useless girl it's only grapes."<br /><br />"Frozen grapes."<br /><br />"Pft!"<br /><br />"<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">Hurled with inhuman force</span>."<br /><br />"<span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Ungrateful infant</span>!</span>"<br /><br />'Thwack' "Ow!", 'Thwack' "Ow!", 'Thwack' "Ow! Hey! that was a strawberry, you could poke an eye out with that!"<br /><br />"<span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">Cowardly, whining wretch! You mewl over a few bruises from fruit? If you cannot concentrate when hit by a harmless bit of food, what are you going to do in the field when the ghouls attack and bullets start flying. Tell your friends die more quietly as their screams are distracting you?</span>"<br /><br />"That's not fair!"<br /><br />"Fair? Fair! Fair is for the nursery, not the battlefield! I have neither the time nor the patience for fair.<br /><br />"<span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">Much as I, am indifferent to the lives of those sad, disposable, dogs of war you seem so fond of, every turning, every death weighs on the heart of the master. It is for her and her alone that I train you but I would think that, if only for the sake of those sad mongrels, you would be willing grow a backbone and learn</span>."<br /><br />"You could have said..."<br /><br />"And you should have trusted me! You trusted me with your life in that theatre. Will you trust me now to teach you to save theirs? "<br /><br />"Yes. <span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">but?</span>"<br /><br />"<span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">What?</span>"<br /><br />"<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Could we possible switch sides for awhile? My left arm is going numb</span>.</span>"<br /><br />"<span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">Of course Angel, we wouldn't want you to not be able to feel your 'distraction' now would we</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">?</span>"<br /><br />Sigh. "<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">No, of course not.</span>"<br /><br />'Thwack'<br /><br />"Ouch!"<br /><br />"Try Again."...biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-86376525164600106652011-03-16T17:01:00.045-04:002012-09-18T22:07:11.728-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLIIIThe next few days went rather well. I passed my basic driving test on the Tortoise and was rewarded by Bulls and Griffin with a little topless hula doll for the dashboard. Anders had a fit and kept trying to throw it out the window until Sgt. Marks somewhere, somehow found a tiny little Hooter's tee shirt to put on her. It was still offensive but no longer obscene.<br />
<br />
"I'll get rid of the damn thing yet." Anders said as he tried to pry her off the dash with a scalpel. He had managed to slice through the prior three double sided adhesives so Bulls had used Gorilla glue this time. Anders and Walter were taking turns giving me 'defensive urban combat' driving lessons (dodging mines and IEDs, Plowing through rubble, running over enemy combatants, you know, the easy stuff.) so he he often sat with me while I navigated the course and Walter or one of the Geese tried to "kill" us. Zelig and Griffin were enthusiastic but often predictable. Burnadet was subtle and sneaky but not quite so bloodthirsty. But if we were playing against Walter or Sgt. Marks, they killed us every time.<br />
<br />
It's a good thing they don't seem to like each other very much, because if they ever teamed up, they could rule the world.<br />
<br />
-----------<br />
<br />
Miss Pringle had unofficially set up headquarters in Dr. Levin's office refusing to come out whenever Zelig or his enthusiastic 'assistant' were in the lab. A poor, lovelorn, Griffin was reduced to slipping her love poems under the door and Andrew was practically counting his winnings.<br />
<br />
"I don't think she much likes Limericks." Said Zelig as we listened to the sound of the paper shredder running behind closed doors. "I told you to try the haiku."<br />
<br />
"It was too esoteric." Said Griffin. "I didn't want ta be too subtle."<br />
<br />
"No chance of that." Said Zelig.<br />
<br />
"Besides, It didn't even rhyme. Poems are supposed to rhyme."<br />
<br />
"Yes, 'bench press' and 'French maid's dress' do almost rhyme." Said Zelig.<br />
<br />
"I thought it rather clever actually." Said Seras.<br />
<br />
"Hmmm," Said Zelig. Maybe she didn't like the dress reference. You know, like you don't take her profession seriously and you equate nursing to being like a maid."<br />
<br />
"You think?"<br />
<br />
"Well, women are always quite touchy about clothing and such."<br />
<br />
"True."<br />
<br />
"Perhaps, it was too short. Perhaps if we finished that sonnet. "<br />
<br />
"Yeah, but I'm just totally stuck on rhyming up bicep and if I try to pull it out, the whole stanza falls apart."<br />
<br />
"Art is never easy." Said Zelig. "How's the ballad coming?"<br />
<br />
"Eh."<br />
<br />
Andrew rubbed his hands together with glee.<br />
<br />
"Don't get cocky." Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
"Hard not to." Said Andrew. "Your boy's a bit of a disaster and our Miss Pringle is made of steel."<br />
<br />
"Ah, but many a 'disaster' has been known to bend steel." Andrew laughed.<br />
<br />
"At this rate he won't even rust her."<br />
<br />
"Care to wager another ten on that?"<br />
<br />
"Hate to take your money 'old chap'." Said Andrew. "But I need a new stereo for the car."<br />
<br />
"Adore taking your money 'old bean'," Said Stewart putting on his best P.T. Barnum face, "but I tell you what, bump it up another ten and I'll throw in my XM radio I'll even install her for you, if I lose."<br />
<br />
"Done." Said Andrew as he shoved a twenty at me and Stewart handed me a ten.<br />
<br />
"I don't have hold the stupid stereo for you do I?" I grumbled, stuffing the money down my shirt. I need to start wearing pants with pockets to the lab.<br />
<br />
"No but it would certainly fit." Said Stewart eying my chest appreciatively.<br />
<br />
I snorted and shoved at his rolling chair with my foot.<br />
<br />
"Book!" he shouted to Zelig as his chair bumped into a table.<br />
<br />
"Excellent." Said Zelig. taking down the details. "Victoria?"<br />
<br />
Seras eyed a very satisfied looking Stewart with suspicion then shook her head.<br />
<br />
Zelig shrugged. "How bout you Doctor Levin? Care to back your horse with a fiver? I'll cover it."<br />
<br />
"Bicep, tricep, flycep.." Muttered Griffin.<br />
<br />
Dr. Levin smiled and reached for his wallet. Then stopped. He looked from Griffin to Zelig to Stewart then back at Griffin. A good long look. He shook his head and chuckled. "I think I'll sit this one out boys." He said.<br />
<br />
"Smart man." Said Griffin. "If we're all done playing then?" Stewart nodded and Zelig closed his little book. "Good. Cause I've got me a little nurse to catch and we all know how I feel about nurses."<br />
<br />
"Never seen you throw one back yet Porn." Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
"Go get her." Said Zelig Grinning.<br />
<br />
Griffin cracked his knuckles then stretched and flexed like a big cat before casually strolling over to the door to Dr. Levin's office. "Nice professional gal like nurse Pringle needs ta see a man's resume before she makes up her mind." He said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a DVD. He drummed his fingers gently against the frosted glass and said. "I gotta go baby but I'll leave ya a little something ta put under your pillow tonight." He brought the DVD to his lips and gave it a kiss before crouching down to slide it under the door. "Sweet dreams Nurse Pringle."<br />
<br />
"What was that?" Asked Andrew suspiciously.<br />
<br />
"Just a few highlights from my brief but illustrious film career."<br />
<br />
"You were in the movies Griffin?" I asked. "I didn't know that."<br />
<br />
Griffin looked at me and blushed. "Yeah, well, they was what you might call independent films of a specialized nature."<br />
<br />
"What?" said Seras. Stewart snorted and grinned while Dr. Levin stared pointedly at the ceiling. "Ohhh. Eww!"<br />
<br />
"Now hang on." Said Andrew. " You mean to tell me that you just slipped Miss Pringle..."<br />
<br />
"Nurse Pringle. Show some respect." Said Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Nurse Pringle." Said Andrew. "You mean to tell me you just slipped Nurse Pringle a video nasty?"<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
<br />
"Well thank Goodness for tha..."<br />
<br />
"I slipped her highlights from several 'video nastys'. The good parts, ya know, with me in um."<br />
<br />
"Dear God, your a dead man."<br />
<br />
"Care to wager on that?" Said Stewart."<br />
<br />
"No." I shouted. "No more betting. I mean it!"<br />
<br />
"Now Corrine, it's just a bit of fun." Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
"No!"<br />
<br />
Zelig shrugged and put his notebook away. "You, of course included "Dock Her, Dock Her?"<br />
<br />
"Of course."<br />
<br />
I raised an eyebrow.<br />
<br />
"A raunchy rock and roll romp though an inner city hospital." Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
"Oh dear." I said, eying the closed office door.<br />
<br />
"All the ones with nurses in um." Said Griffin. "Also, I put in some of my super hero series."<br />
<br />
"Super hero series?" I queried.<br />
<br />
"Yeah." Said Griffin. "Let's see...there was 'Super Wham: can of steel', 'The X-rated men', played Colossus in that one.."<br />
<br />
"Great performance but his accent was bloody awful." Whispered Stewart. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.<br />
<br />
"...and what else? Oh yeah I threw in part two of ' Edible Bulk: Revenge of the.." Zelig cleared his throat loudly and made a shushing gesture at Griffin. "What?" Asked Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Not that I don't support your work and all," Said Zelig. but, well, there is a lady present."<br />
<br />
Seras and I looked at each other then back at Zelig. 'A lady present'? As in just one?<br />
<br />
"Oh, yes, right. Sorry 'bout that Corrine." Said Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Oh nice." Said Seras sarcastically.<br />
<br />
"Well don't get get you knickers in a twist Victoria." Said Zelig. "Your not a lady, your one of us."<br />
<br />
"One of you?" Asked Seras tremulously.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, you know, like one of the guys." Said Griffin.<br />
<br />
"You mean, I'm one of you? I'm a Goose?" She said breathlessly.<br />
<br />
Stewart nodded, lips quirking<br />
<br />
"That's just brilliant!" She shouted jumping into Stewart's lap and hugging him.<br />
<br />
"Ooof! Right, that's enough of that Victoria." Said Stewart as he shoved her off his lap. "There is positively none of that allowed in the ranks!"<br />
<br />
"I'm a goose Corrine!" Said Seras as Stewart unwound his mouse cord from her wrist.<br />
<br />
"You most certainly are." Said Stewart, trying not to laugh.<br />
<br />
"That's wonderful. Oh," I said thinking it through. "does this mean I'm not?"<br />
<br />
"What, a goose?" Said Stewart raising his eyebrows. I nodded. "Well sorry, you can't."<br />
<br />
"Why not?"<br />
<br />
"Because, like I said, you're a lady Corrine." Said Zelig.<br />
<br />
"So?"<br />
<br />
"So no ladies allowed in the Geese." Said Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Why ever not?"<br />
<br />
"Well, the Captain's got a saying bout ladies, 'In the bedroom, in the kitchen even on the bathroom fl..."<br />
<br />
Zelig cleared his throat loudly.<br />
<br />
"Oh, yes, right. Sorry Corrine. It's just a rule OK?"<br />
<br />
"Well that seems unfair."<br />
<br />
"Sorry Corrine, but you can be a lady or you can be a goose but you can't be both." Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
"I find it hard to believe that you refer to yourself as a goose."<br />
<br />
"Well, actually I refer to myself as a sexy beast but that's beside the point. You're one or the other, there is no both."<br />
<br />
"This reminds me of that story they made us read in school." Said Andrew. "You know where the bloke had to choose between two doors."<br />
<br />
"Right," Said Seras. "And behind one door was a pretty lady and behind the other was a tiger... What was it called again?"<br />
<br />
"The Lady or the Tiger." I said.<br />
<br />
"Ooo right." Said Seras. "Like the game you and the master sometimes play."<br />
<br />
"Oh dear I hope not."<br />
<br />
"No, no, I mean you've got to choose."<br />
<br />
"Between the lady or the tiger?"<br />
<br />
"No." She said disgustedly. "Lady or goose."<br />
<br />
"The Lady or the Goose?"<br />
<br />
"Exactly." She said. "you've got to choose which one to be."<br />
<br />
"Aw that's easy," Said Griffin. "Lady."<br />
<br />
"I'd rather she choose Goose."<br />
<br />
"Are these my only choices?" I asked but they ignored me.<br />
<br />
"Naw, she's a lady." Asserted Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Goose!" Insisted Seras.<br />
<br />
"Couldn't I just be a swan or something?"<br />
<br />
"Lady, lady lady!"<br />
<br />
"A duck perhaps?"<br />
<br />
"Goose, goose, goose!"<br />
<br />
"Stop!" Shouted Stewart. "Corrine, you are not a goose or a swan or any other type of waterfowl. It's not a question of what you want to be. It's how we perceive you. We see you as a lady because it's what you are. You don't get to choose."<br />
<br />
I crossed my arms and pouted.<br />
<br />
"Now don't get cross Corrine," Said Zelig. "Your a lady, that's better than being one of us lot any day."<br />
<br />
"Fine." I huffed. "I'll be a lady. But I don't have to like it."<br />
<br />
"Now, that's settled," Said Dr. Levin. "Perhaps we should move this act down the hall. Is the equipment ready Mr. Stewart?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, I set up in the storage room as you suggested. there are no antennas, phones or intercoms of any kind in there so, we should avoid a repeat of Tuesday's 'Mary Hopkins' fiasco." (I had been singing "The Sparrow" and somehow had ended up blowing out all of the phones in the lab and half the intercoms on the first floor.)<br />
<br />
"Sorry." I said.<br />
<br />
"Not at all my dear." Said Dr. Levin who had decided to like me now that I could do something interesting. "It was quite informative. Expensive, but informative. Shall we go?" He said, gesturing to the door.<br />
<br />
"Just a sec." Said Stewart as he stared at something on his laptop screen. "Aaaand, she's in!"<br />
<br />
"Good job old man!" Said Zelig Giving Griffin a thumbs up.<br />
<br />
"What?" Shouted Andrew. "She never!"<br />
<br />
"Oh, but she did." Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
"Oh ewww, just ewww!" Said Seras.<br />
<br />
"Care to pay up now and save yourself the humiliation later?" asked Stewart.<br />
<br />
"Wait." Said Andrew. "How do you even know she's, you know...looking?" There was a horrified shriek and the sound of plastic hitting the wall.<br />
<br />
"She looked." Said Zelig.<br />
<br />
"Young man," Said Dr. Levin. "Did you hack into my computer?"<br />
<br />
"Don't be insulting." Said Stewart rapidly blanking his screen. We all stared at him. "I planted spyware in the DVD."<br />
<br />
"Mr. Stewart...!"<br />
<br />
"Didn't you want to get us down the hall? Come on Corrine, chop, chop!" Said Stewart as he bustled me out the door.biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-86091697241675691192011-02-01T17:33:00.023-05:002020-05-21T00:14:12.054-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLII<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Miss Pringle is having a bad week.<br />
<br />
As if Zelig pulling down her precious sign and slapping her on the bottom weren't enough, Sir Integra had personally requested the lab begin running tests on my voice.<br />
<br />
And then there was the bulletin board.<br />
<br />
Oh , how she hated that bulletin board.<br />
<br />
Not only had Dr. Levin ignored her protests and decided to put up a bulletin board where the "No singing" sign used to be but he had decided to put up Zelig's bulletin board.<br />
<br />
All of it.<br />
<br />
Down to the last burnished brass hook and Velcro pen holder. And when "Mr. Dollneaz" (batt, batt, batt, eyelashes) had approved the expense, there was nothing she could say without sounding like the mean evil harpy that she is. (Oops, not nice Corrine. Not nice. I am sometimes glad no one will ever read this journal.)<br />
<br />
It seems Miss Pringle, and possibly Sir Integra, are the only denizens of Hellsing immune to the fascination of watching Zelig's brilliant, demented mind at work. Because when he goes into full blown temperamental artist mode he is a wonder to behold.<br />
<br />
This wasn't an installation, it was performance art.<br />
<br />
Zelig sailed into the lab and began tearing into boxes, leaping about and spinning like a Tasmanian devil cartoon. Within minutes he managed to cover every surface in the lab with bits and pieces of his project and litter the floor with packing debris and rejected parts. He then strutted about barking orders while Miss Pringle grimly chased after him with a trash bag.<br />
<br />
"Don't touch that woman!" He shouted as she picked up a ripped up piece of box lid. "It's important."<br />
<br />
"It's cardboard."<br />
<br />
"Do I tell you how to do your job? Do I tell you how to stick needles in Victoria's arm?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, actually, you do."<br />
<br />
"Well you should listen. My way looked better. Now put that down and stop messing with my system."<br />
<br />
"This is not a system, this is chaos!"<br />
<br />
"Exactly." Said Zelig smugly. "So stop trying to organize it."<br />
<br />
"You're impossible."<br />
<br />
"Then go away! Honestly, I hate working with amateurs."<br />
<br />
Pip, pap, pip.<br />
<br />
"What's that noise?" Demanded Miss Pringle.<br />
<br />
I had found a stray piece of bubble wrap and was fiddling about while Andrew stuck the EEG contact pads in my hair.<br />
<br />
"Who cares?" Said Zelig. "Hey! Give that back!" He bellowed snatching a small empty bag from her hand. "I can use that. Can put lots of little bits and bobs in a bag like that and you throwing it away."<br />
<br />
"Its got a hole in it!"<br />
<br />
"Course it does, it's a bag."<br />
<br />
"No, I mean the bottom."<br />
<br />
He gave her a disgusted look as he tied a knot in the ripped corner. "Really Pringle, that solution would have been obvious to anyone who had even the most rudimentary of problem solving skills."<br />
<br />
"Or you could just put all of your loose screws in one of the dozen or so not torn bags you have tossed on the floor."<br />
<br />
"All the bags in the world wouldn't hold his loose screws." Muttered Stewart as he booted up his laptop.<br />
<br />
Pippy pap, pap, pap. I had found another piece of bubble wrap and was sharing with Seras.<br />
<br />
"You see this? " He said waiving the bag at her. "This is why there is a hole in the ozone layer! People like you just throwing trash away like it was garbage."<br />
<br />
Stewart snorted.<br />
<br />
Miss Pringle worked her way through that sentence and sucked in a breath to retort bu,t unfortunately, Griffin stepped in first.<br />
<br />
********Which brings us to the actual worst part of Miss Pringle's week.<br />
It wasn't being forced to listen to me sing nor was it Dr. Levin's and Walter's betrayal in authorizing the bulletin board [which later turned out to be mostly an excuse for Dr. Levin to study Zelig so he could publish what would eventually become an award winning article<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span>for Mental Health Practice magazine.]. It wasn't even having to deal with Zelig, It was Griffin. All '6.7' 265 pounds of him. And he was, it seems, in love. Well, obsessed anyway. It seems Zelig's quip about Griffin liking high strung women was true because from the moment he walked in to "assist" Zelig, Griffin had been panting after Miss Pringle in a big way. He took one look at her and muttered something to Zelig about little white hats and sensible shoes and movies he had seen that started with... Never mind, I can't repeat it. Long story short, he had quickly found an excuse to remove both his jacket and his uniform shirt and prowl around the lab after Miss Pringle in his Gold's Gym muscle tee rippling and flexing and asking her barely appropriate medical questions. He was doing his best to impress her and she was doing her best to avoid eye contact. So when Griffin, jealous of her attention, broke in to her argument with Zelig, Miss Pringle gasped quietly and began to edge away from the wall of muscle stalking her. ********<br />
<br />
"Aww, Nurse Pringle," He said. "why ya wastin time on arguing with him? Figti'n with Zelig's like trying to tunnel through a sand dune with a shovel. Ya get all hot 'n' itchy and ya wind up nowheres.<br />
<br />
Only way to win an argument with Zelig is ta beat him to a bloody pulp. And even then half the time he'll just call it a draw."<br />
<br />
"It's true," Said Zelig proudly as if Griffin were complementing him. "I'm an excellent debater."<br />
<br />
"Listen baby," Growled Griffin in a low voice as he loomed over her (I couldn't tell if he was doing a bad Barry White imitation or just had something caught in his throat.). "If you want ta get all hot 'n' itchy, I can think of lots of better ways to go about it."<br />
<br />
She continued to edge away and he continued to stalk her until he had backed her into a corner. She deftly grabbed a chair and pulled it between them.<br />
<br />
"And maybe, if you ask real nice, I'll help you 'win' that argument with Zelig." He said, smacking a meaty fist into his open palm. He then braced his arm against the wall by her head, leaned in and said, "I's got the tools and the talent for both." He flexed his biceps. "Wann'a see?"<br />
<br />
"That won't be necessary Mr. Griffin." She said coldly.<br />
<br />
"Are you sure? I ain't shown you all the tools yet."<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
<br />
"Just a little peek."<br />
<br />
"Mr. Griffin, back away at once."<br />
<br />
"Not till you give us a kiss." He leered.<br />
<br />
She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.<br />
<br />
"I promise baby, once you sample the goods, your gonna wanna buy..... Whaddaya say nurse, Pringle?"<br />
<br />
She smiled and leaned towards him, hands still tightly gripping the chair.<br />
<br />
Griffin raised his eyebrows and leaned in for his kiss not noticing the chair slowly lifting from the floor...<br />
<br />
Wham! She slammed one of the chair legs down on his foot.<br />
<br />
Griffin yelped and jumped back surprised. Then looked down at her and chuckled. "Zelig's right. You are a mean one."<br />
<br />
She snorted derisively and hefted the chair menacingly.<br />
<br />
"I like them mean."<br />
<br />
"Oh yes?" She said and swung the chair at him.<br />
<br />
He neatly stepped outside of her swing, darting back in while she was off balance and planting a big wet kiss on her cheek then merrily danced away before she could get him on the backstroke.<br />
<br />
"Her problem was aiming for the legs." I whispered to Andrew. "You should always go for body mass."<br />
<br />
"Unless it's a ghoul." Whispered Seras. "Then you want to aim for the heart or the head."<br />
<br />
"She's not trying to kill him Victoria" Said Stewart. "...I think."<br />
<br />
"Well, then, Corrine's right. Body shot is best then."<br />
<br />
"Good form though." I said.<br />
<br />
"Yes." She agreed. "Lots of energy in the swing."<br />
<br />
Andrew turned his head to hide his grin.<br />
<br />
I handed him a piece of bubble wrap.<br />
<br />
"Damn you look sweet." Said Griffin to a seething Miss Pringle.<br />
<br />
Zelig looked up from a pile of clipboards he was detailing with an annoyed expression. "Are we working or are we chatting up birds here? Come on Griffin, help me get this LCD mounted."<br />
<br />
"I'll call you." Said Griffin over his shoulder as he strolled over to Zelig. He then made a big show of rippling his muscles as he lifted the heavy screen .<br />
<br />
Miss Pringle stuck her nose up in the air and marched into Dr. Levin's office to give her hourly report (10 minutes early but who's counting).<br />
<br />
I shook my head ruefully. "Do lines like that ever work?" Pippity pap pippty.<br />
<br />
"You'd be surprised." Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
"Well they shan't work on her." Said Andrew loyally. Pap,pop,pop.<br />
<br />
"You'd be surprised." Said Stewart again.<br />
<br />
"Not our Miss Pringle." Insisted Andrew.<br />
<br />
"Care to..." Pop, pop, pappty, pop. "Give over Corrine!" Said Andrew, taking away my bubble wrap and handing me some sheet music to choose from.<br />
<br />
"Sorry."<br />
<br />
"Care to wager on that?" He asked Andrew.<br />
<br />
"It's not going to happen." Said Andrew.<br />
<br />
"Ten quid says their snogging by the end of the month."<br />
<br />
"Done." Said Andrew reaching for his wallet.<br />
<br />
"Victoria?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know," Said Seras. "She seem to desperately hate him but..."<br />
<br />
"But what?"<br />
<br />
"But there was this kind of gleam in her eye when she swung at him..." She pondered a moment. "I'll wager a fiver."<br />
<br />
"Covered. Corrine?"<br />
<br />
"You're sick you know that?"<br />
<br />
"No from Corrine. Zelig!?"<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"Book on the Ice maiden"<br />
<br />
"Excellent! Details?"<br />
<br />
"Straight odds. Snogging by the end of the month."<br />
<br />
"I'll bet with the house."<br />
<br />
"Fine, you can cover Victoria's five. Corrine's holding the money." He said holding out a 10 pound note to me.<br />
<br />
"What? Why me?"<br />
<br />
"Cause you're not betting."<br />
<br />
"I don't want to." I said pushing Stewart's hand away.<br />
<br />
"Come on Corrine." Said Zelig. "It's an honour to hold the money."<br />
<br />
"No. This bet is immoral and I want no part of it!"<br />
<br />
"I'll give you back your bubble wrap."<br />
<br />
"Done." I said holding out my hand. Miss Pringle choose that moment to stroll back into the lab so I had to quickly stuff the money down my shirt as I had no pockets and try not to look guilty (Griffin spent much of the rest of the afternoon trying to get me to change 20).<br />
<br />
Miss Pringle gave our little group a disdainful look and stalked to her desk to ignore us and do paperwork.<br />
<br />
Pippty, pop, pippt pop. Went Seras, Andrew, and I. As Stewart finished calibrating his machines.<br />
<br />
Miss Pringle gritted her teeth, gripped her pencil tightly and continued to write.<br />
<br />
"How about a sound level check?" Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
We grinned and complied. Pop, pip, pip, pap, pop, pop,pop, papptity, pappity, pop, pop...<br />
<br />
"Stop that infernal noise this instant!" Shouted Miss Pringle as she launched herself out of her chair towards us. She first snatched away Andrew's bubble wrap then mine. She reached for Seras' but thought better of it when she growled at her.<br />
<br />
"Oi!" Barked Seras. "Get your own!"<br />
<br />
"This plastic wrap is not a toy!" She said jabbing her finger at us. "So stop playing with it! What if it's needed to wrap parts back up? It's of no use if you've popped all the bubbles!"<br />
<br />
"What's she going on about now?" Asked Zelig.<br />
<br />
Griffin whispered into his ear.<br />
<br />
"Bubble wrap? Are you kidding me?" He glared at Miss Pringle. "It's just bits of bubble wrap. I've got rolls of it back in the barracks. What's wrong with you? I'm trying to work here!" He was quiet a moment. "It is the final purpose of bubble wrapped to be popped." He said philosophically. "It is, its destiny." He smiled benignly at her. "Besides, it makes the most delightful sound when you pop it don't you think? Quite addictive actually."<br />
<br />
We all nodded at his sage wisdom. Except of course for Miss Pringle.<br />
<br />
"you're all just deliberately trying to provoke me but it won't work!" She said slamming the bubble wrap in her hand onto a counter. Unfortunately her hand clipped the edge of a small box, flipping it up in the air end over end and spraying foam packing peanuts everywhere.<br />
<br />
No one made a sound.<br />
<br />
Miss Pringle calmly straightened her back and smoothed down her dress.<br />
<br />
"Miss Pringle." Said Andrew timidly. "You've got a little something in your..." He pointed to her head.<br />
<br />
She reached up and plucked a packing peanut from where it had landed in her hat. She glared a moment at the offending object before grinding it to dust, probably pretending it was one of our heads.<br />
<br />
"Hey!" Shouted Zelig. "What are you doing? I save those, I use those!"<br />
<br />
"No." She said calmly. "I refuse to believe that."<br />
<br />
"Is she calling me a liar?" asked Zelig angerly.<br />
<br />
"fraid so." Said Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Are you calling me a liar?!" He shouted.<br />
<br />
"Yes." Said Miss Pringle.<br />
<br />
"You shouldn't call him a liar nurse Pringle." Said Griffin. "He don't like it."<br />
<br />
"Well then, he should stop lying. Shouldn't he?" She said smiling condescendingly.<br />
<br />
Zelig started puffing up again and turning purple. "You..."<br />
<br />
"Actually Miss," Said Stewart urgently. "he uses them all the time."<br />
<br />
"Oh really?"<br />
<br />
"Yes Miss. He uses them to make explosives."<br />
<br />
She stared at him non-plussed.<br />
<br />
"Apparently, they're so common, it makes it hard to trace. Harder to prove who did it in court. If you know what I mean miss."<br />
<br />
"Acquitted of all charges." Said Zelig proudly.<br />
<br />
"That you were Bertie." Said Stewart.<br />
<br />
"But these are the white packing peanuts." Said Zelig. "I mostly use those in potting soil. Helps the drainage."<br />
<br />
Miss Pringle's jaw snapped shut.<br />
<br />
"Now the pink ones, they make excellent explosives. They burn pretty too, but not the green ones, I'm not sure why that is. Of course, I never use the colored ones in the potting soil. Chemicals might hurt the plants."<br />
<br />
Miss Pringle turned without a word and walked into Dr. Levin's office. She shoved Dr. Levin,who was scribbling furiously in his notebook, out of his office and locked the door.<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><em></em></div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-60935361279646240972010-12-17T12:08:00.022-05:002020-05-21T00:04:15.357-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XLI<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
That afternoon at tea, Walter had a most interesting suggestion as to how I could help <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Seras</span>.<br />
<br />
"It's a long shot." He said, as I fiddled with the rubber tubing included in the box of materials he had gathered together for his plan. "But I think if you are the one making the offer, she just might accept. She will will see it as an act of friendship not charity or duty."<br />
<br />
"Possibly." I said dropping the tubing back in the box and glancing at the needles with distaste. "But why all the steps?" I asked reaching for my teacup. "Why can't I just let her..?"<br />
<br />
"No." He said firmly. That would be most unwise."<br />
<br />
I stilled my hands, cup halfway to mouth and looked at him questioningly.<br />
<br />
"We need your actions to be intimate enough for Miss Victoria to feel comfortable feeding but still maintain enough distance between your providing the blood and her drinking it so that she knows your are willingly providing food but does not think of you as the food itself." He locked onto me with his steely intense gaze and said calmly but forcefully. "If I were even to suspect that you were considering letting Miss Victoria feed directly off of you, I would separate the two of you immediately and forbid any further contact between you permanently. Is that understood?"<br />
<br />
I opened my mouth but no words came out, speechless under his onslaught.<br />
<br />
He softened a bit. "Ms. Doyle," He said, gently removing the rattling teacup from my hand. "my concern is for your safety. What we attempt here is dangerous and, if done improperly, could cause irreparable harm. Miss Victoria is close to the breaking point otherwise I would not even consider this plan and I certainly would not consider involving you Ms. Doyle, if I did not trust you to proceed with all due caution."<br />
<br />
He refilled my teacup and handed it back to me. "I would not wish to lose either one of you."<br />
<br />
I smiled at him feeling a bit warm and fuzzy. 'How sweet.' I thought. "Thank you." I said, taking a sip.<br />
<br />
"Yes, Sir <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Integra</span> has charged me with the care of both yourself and Miss Victoria so it would be quite remiss of me to allow one of you to massacre the other in a frenzied bloodbath. She would be very annoyed at me to say the least."<br />
<br />
My warm and fuzzy moment died. "I see." I said.<br />
<br />
"Very messy. Quite inconvenient."<br />
<br />
"OK, I get it!" Just couldn't leave it at warm and fuzzy, could you Walter?<br />
<br />
He smiled slightly then his expression grew intense once again. "In all seriousness Ms. Doyle, if you have any doubts, any doubts whatsoever, please do not feel you must go through with this. We can always try something else."<br />
<br />
"Is there another plan at this time?"<br />
<br />
"Not as such, no."<br />
<br />
"Well then, why don't we go over precisely how this is to be done." I said, putting down my teacup and handing him a syringe.<br />
<br />
******<br />
<br />
We sprang out plan on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Seras</span> that Thursday, one of my nights off from my "special training" with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Alucard</span>. When she woke up I was to be waiting for her in her room.<br />
<br />
She had this cool mechanical canopy bed Walter had designed for her which converted into a sort of coffin during her daylight sleeping hours. She was late in getting up so I knocked on the lid a few times to wake her.<br />
<br />
"Go away." Came her muffled voice.<br />
<br />
"Get up!" I chirped loudly.<br />
<br />
"I'm tired."<br />
<br />
"Come now." I shouted cheerfully. "The moon is shining and all the ...um, owls are ...hooting in the breeze."<br />
<br />
"Mumble <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">murf</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">munf</span> muff!"<br />
<br />
"That's no way for a lady to talk!" I said, smacking the lid. "You spend too much time hanging out with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Burnadett</span>."<br />
<br />
"I'm tired. Go away."<br />
<br />
I was weary of waiting and afraid I would loose my nerve so I sat down on top of her bed/coffin and started singing show tunes but warping the lyrics.<br />
<br />
"There's a bright silver haze on the meadow. There's a bright silver haze on the meadow..."<br />
<br />
"Shut it!" She said banging the lid once from the inside.<br />
<br />
"When the black, black bat comes flap, flap, flapping along. A-long!" I sang, drumming my heels in time to the music. "Come on, I've got a million of these."<br />
<br />
"OK. OK."<br />
<br />
"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Yeay</span>!" I said, jumping off as the lid started to rumble open.<br />
<br />
<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Seras</span> rubbed her eyes, stretched, and rolled out of bed hitting the ground with a thud. She looked up at me smiling sheepishly. She still had her uniform on.<br />
<br />
"Late night?"<br />
<br />
"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">mmumf</span>."<br />
<br />
"I didn't hear the bell. Another of Captain Chambers' training exorcises?"<br />
<br />
"grumble (yawn) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">munf</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">munf</span>."<br />
<br />
I felt a bit guilty waking her up like this but Walter said she would be at her most pliant around twilight therefore more likely to accept my offer. I was just glad she wasn't as grumpy about being woken up as I am.<br />
<br />
"Sorry." I said offering my hand. "But I have a surprise for you."<br />
<br />
"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Mmmm</span>?"<br />
<br />
"No, it's a surprise. You go wash up and I'll get it ready."<br />
<br />
While she was gone, I pulled out my supplies. Walter had shown me how to run a line into a vein on the back of my hand and had helped me carefully tape the tube down and around to the bottom of my wrist so it did not show as much. We then, very carefully, cleaned away all traces of blood.<br />
<br />
Now came the tricky part.<br />
<br />
I was not to draw the blood directly in front of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Seras</span> but was also not to let it get cold so I only had a few minutes. I quickly filled several syringes without spilling a drop (take that Miss <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Pringle</span>!) then removed the lid from the covered tray and set about injecting the items therein with the gruesome contents. I had just emptied the last syringe and was carefully wiping my line with an alcohol pad when she returned.<br />
<br />
"What are you doing?" She asked as I quickly swept the syringe into my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">supply</span> kit. I dropped the pad in after it and sealed the lid.<br />
<br />
"A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">surprise</span> for you! Sit down, sit down." I said, smiling and placing my hand behind my back.<br />
<br />
She looked at me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">suspiciously</span> and sat down her eyes on my box. I picked up the covered tray with my other hand and placed it in front of her grinning.<br />
<br />
She lifted the lid and stared at the contents with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">puzzled</span> frown. "<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Truffles</span>?"<br />
<br />
"Not just any <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">truffles</span> my dear, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Lindt</span> dark chocolate <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">truffles</span>, the best!"<br />
<br />
"But I ..." she started, then her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">nostrils</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">flared</span>. She stared at the the tray a moment, her eyes glazed, her lips slightly parted, then she slammed the lid down.<br />
<br />
"<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">They're</span> very good." I said, pulling one from the bag I had set aside for myself and unwrapping it.<br />
<br />
"They're filled with blood." She said in a dead pan voice.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I know, I filled them." I said. "With my own blood no less!" I held up my wrist. "Pretty neat huh? Walter helped me with the tape."<br />
<br />
"It's not funny." She said, glaring at me.<br />
<br />
"No, it's not funny." I said, glaring back. "Not funny to watch you starve yourself night after night while I stuff my face in front of you. Not funny to watch you grow weaker and more desperate for food everyday. Not funny at all."<br />
<br />
"But your blood... I can't." She said choking.<br />
<br />
"As you say, it's my blood. I can give it to whomever I want."<br />
<br />
She shook her head, closing her eyes and shuttering. "You're my friend, I can't feed off of you."<br />
<br />
"You can and you will!" I said slamming my hand down on the table. <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>"Look," I said taking her hand and stroking it gently. "If by giving you my blood I help ease your <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">hunger even</span> the slightest bit, then I am glad to give it." I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">looked</span> deep into her eyes. "I offer it freely as a friend. Will you accept it?"<br />
<br />
She looked at the tray and bit her lip with indecision.</div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
"Young lady, if you don't eat your chocolate <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">truffles</span>, you will be sent to bed without any dessert!"</div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
She smiled at me, lifting the lid. "What's for dessert then? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Brussel</span> sprouts?"</div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">How'd</span> you guess? Now eat before it gets cold." I said popping my own unwrapped <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">truffle</span> into my mouth. "These are so good!" I said <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">through</span> a mouthful of chocolate.</div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
She slowly, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">cautiously</span>, placed a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">truffle</span> in her mouth and bit into it. I tried not to think about my blood trickling down her throat and instead concentrated on unwrapping another truffle and eating it. It was all I could do not to throw up but I could not let Sears see that so I looked at the ceiling pretending to savor the candy until the nausea passed.</div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
Seras reached for another piece. A good sign.</div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
By her 4th truffle, I could finally look her in the eye again, just not at her mouth while she was chewing, and we were even managing a bit of light conversation. By her 8th truffle, Seras was chattering away like a magpie. I don't know if it was the blood or the caffeine but she was wired. </div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
I just smiled and chattered back. Even when the last truffle began to leak, I just pretended I didn't notice it. Seras quickly popped it into her mouth, wiping the blood off of the tray with her finger.</div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
"This is quite good." She said, unthinkingly licking her fingers.</div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div>
"Yes, it's very good chocolate." I said, trying to silence the gibbering monkey in my head which was screaming at me to run away. 'It's OK. It's OK. Just pretend it's a cherry cordial. <em>But it's not! It's my blood!</em> It's OK. It's OK. You can do this.' <span style="font-style: italic;"></span> "We should try Mrs. See's sometime it's my favorite." <span style="font-style: italic;">'Oh God, oh God, oh God!</span>'<br />
<br />
******<br />
<br />
It was dark in the corridor outside of Sera's room, just a single light bulb to mark the foot of the stairs and even darker down towards Alucard's chambers. Not many of the staff ventured this way and vampires don't mind the dark.<br />
<br />
Normally I wouldn't mind the dark either but I was tired and dizzy and feeling a bit disturbed so when I placed my hand on the wall to steady myself and encountered not cold, rough stone but warm, smooth fabric, I was more than a little freaked out.<br />
<br />
I yelped and jumped back stumbling over my own feet. I would have fallen if a strong hand had not firmly gripped my arm and pulled me back upright. <br />
<br />
"Walter?" I screeched. "You startled me." I managed to say in a more normal voice as he released my arm.<br />
<br />
"I am sorry." He said. "That was not my intent. I merely meant to be on hand, should you require assistance with the stairs."<br />
<br />
I looked at him uncomprehending for a moment. How could I have not seen him? I must be tired. <br />
<br />
"It's rather dim and the steps can be treacherous."<br />
<br />
I looked over at the stairs then back at him. Me, Walter and staircases, quite the emotional history. I smiled at him sheepishly. "Thank you. That's very kind." I said handing him the box of supplies and following him to the stairs.<br />
<br />
"Did everything go well?" He asked, motioning me to proceed him up the stairs. He followed immediately behind and just to the left of me.<br />
<br />
"As well as could be expected." I said clambering up the the steps. "She ate but I'm afraid I..Whoops!" I had turned my head to speak to him and tripped on the next riser. Walter's hand came up to steady me. I looked down at the glove gripping my arm and gasped. I knew those gloves. That rough, heavy leather of their fingers, the smooth reinforced plates in the palm. Those were the gloves from my hallucination in the elevator. The ones he was wearing when he... I shuttered at the memory but forced myself not to yank my arm from his grip and possibly send us both tumbling down the stairs. <br />
<br />
Why was he wearing those gloves?<br />
<br />
"Ms. Doyle?"<br />
<br />
"I'm fine, just a bit dizzy. I'll be all right in a moment." I half lied.<br />
<br />
"Are you sure?" He asked. "I can..."<br />
<br />
"No really, I'll be fine." I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was getting dangerously close to a reverse re-enactment of our first encounter on the stairs.<br />
<br />
"Very well." Said Walter, lowering his hand.<br />
<br />
I sagged with relief which caused Walter's hand to start up again. I bit my lip and forced myself not to flinch. He must have sensed something because he checked himself and stared down at his hand with a puzzled expression.<br />
<br />
"Oh I am sorry Ms. Doyle. I'd forgotten to remove my work gloves. The plates didn't hurt you did they?" His intense gaze locked onto mine. <br />
<br />
<br />
"No Walter." I said tightly, staring at the gloves. 'But the wire wrapped around my neck sure did.' I thought shuttering a bit. I still sometimes had nightmares.<br />
<br />
He stared at me a moment longer. "Very thoughtless of me." He said dropping his hand to his side. "Please forgive me."<br />
<br />
It was my turn to stare at him. The 'forgive me' seemed out of proportion. After all, he wasn't responsible for what had happened in the elevator. He had no control over Alucard's actions. Then it dawned on me that he wasn't just talking about the gloves.<br />
<br />
Over these last several weeks, Walter had become more than just my babysitter, he had become my guardian and protector. Sheltering me, encouraging me, giving me the tools I needed to heal, to find my way. But for all his strengths, we both knew that there was one person, one thing, he could not protect me from. <br />
<br />
Alucard. <br />
<br />
He could advise me, console me but he could not shield me from the monster. What was it Alucard had said about Walter and his overdeveloped sense of chivalry? <br />
<br />
My knight could not only not rescue the damsel from the dragon but had to keep sending her back into its cave, poorly armed and with very few defenses. The fact that she had volunteered did not seem to matter.<br />
<br />
Far from decreasing him in my eyes, my hero worship for Walter only increased. I was a total heel for taking off my robe like that the other night and showing my bruises to everyone. I had let anger and spite move me to thoughtless action and poor Walter had once again borne the brunt of my foolishness by being drawn into a useless confrontation with Alucard. Alucard was right, I was pathetic and whiny.<br />
<br />
"Walter," I said with all sincerity. "there is nothing to forgive."<br />
<br />
There was an awkward moment of silence as Walter seemed to ponder a reply to my statement. For once, I was able to come to the rescue. I smiled and said lightly, "They are, after all, only a pair of gloves. No harm done, see?" I wiggled my arm to demonstrate. "But I am a bit hungry. Can we get something to eat?"<br />
<br />
He eyed me for a moment then said. "Of course Ms. Doyle. What would you like?"<br />
<br />
"Anything but chocolate." I said dramatically.<br />
<br />
We both smiled a bit at that.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
biblioheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003595369053355179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2806584568984683723.post-46538956909812523842010-11-30T17:33:00.016-05:002017-08-12T03:18:13.888-04:00LETTERS FROM HELLSING XL<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It took two soul wrenching days for Griffin to teach me to maneuver the "Tortoise" about the motor pool lot without the constant grinding of gears and the unremitting wails of "Ach! Your a kellin her gel. Your kellin her!" from Bulls. Finally, on the third day, I was allowed to take the 'pur gel' once around the course on the proving grounds and managed to only run over two "pedestrian" pop-ups and a stuffed squirrel Bulls had thrown out in front of the transport.<br />
<br />
I slammed on the brakes, throwing Griffin out of his seat and jumped out of the transport horrified and crying (just a little) thinking I had killed it. Griffin punched Bulls hard twice on the shoulder. Once, for making me cry and then again for offering me an oil rag as a handkerchief. Bulls apologetically pulled the mangled lump out from under the treads to show me it wasn't real.<br />
<br />
"Wow," I said snuffling a bit. "Those treads really did a number on him."<br />
<br />
"Ah the pur wee beasty, do you think he's done for Corrine?" Asked Bulls.<br />
<br />
"Poor beasty my as-ah butt." Said Griffin. "Your the idiot who tossed it."<br />
<br />
"Aye, but I dinna quite realize..."<br />
<br />
"You want me to fix him for you?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Can ya you think?"<br />
<br />
"I can try." I said.<br />
<br />
"I've got a better idea." Said Griffin tossing me up onto his beefy shoulder and shouting 'Medic!" as he ran for the back of the transport. Bulls laughed and ran along behind us the "squirrel" flopping about in his hands.<br />
<br />
Anders came charging in after us, medical bag at the ready only to find a dismembered stuffed animal on his gurney. "You think he'll pull through doc?" was all Griffin had time to say before Anders physically thew us out of the back of the transport calling us 'juvenile idiots' and something else, in German I believe, before slamming the door shut in our faces.<br />
<br />
We all looked at each other and burst out laughing.<br />
<br />
"I hope he's not too mad." I said. "He already doesn't like me."<br />
<br />
"Naw, it's good. He ain't been properly pissed off in ages."<br />
<br />
"What do you mean? He always seems angry to me."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, he's been an angry SOB since we got here." Said Griffin.<br />
<br />
"Aye all mopin and morose. Specially since you shewed oop."<br />
<br />
"Gee, thanks." I said. "I feel much better now."<br />
<br />
"Noo, noo he's been angry ya see but he haint been pissed off proper for some time."<br />
<br />
"You lost me." I said.<br />
<br />
"That's cause Groundskeeper Willie here don't speak English proper." Said Griffin. "Look it's simple. Anders has always been a moody one, 'thinks too much' the Sarge says. Thinks about things guys like us shouldn't think about."<br />
<br />
"Like what."<br />
<br />
"like when life begins, when it ends...where you go after you die. The kind of things that might make you think twice before you pull the trigger and blow some guy's head off. Make you think maybe you shouldn't cause what if he's got a family or what if I'm going to Hell for killing some guy I've got no beef with just cause I'm gettin paid too. Then it's your brains that end up spattered on the wall cause you can be sure that's not what the other guy's thinking, he's thinking I'm gonna kill this stupid SOB before he kills me."<br />
<br />
"Too philosophical." Said Bulls.<br />
<br />
"Yeah," Said Griffin. "Too many books, too much thinking."<br />
<br />
I looked at them speechless.<br />
<br />
"Look now, you've shooked her."<br />
<br />
"Aww, it's just the truth is all. I mean ain't none of of saints. Corrine knows that."<br />
<br />
"No, yes. I mean, I know it's the truth. I just never thought about it that way before."<br />
<br />
"That's the ticket Corrine. There's stuff ya just shouldn't think too close about too often. You'll just wake up screaming at night and that's no good is it?"<br />
<br />
"Of course." I said. Pushing my misgivings aside to think about later.<br />
<br />
"See, she get's it."<br />
<br />
"Smart gel."<br />
<br />
"Yeah. But now see Anders, he gets stuck thinking about these things and then gets all moody and mad cause he can't stop. Usually, we can knock him out of it by doing something real stupid and annoying to piss him off. Then he can yell and blow off steam and be OK again for awhile. Not too bad a guy. Kinda funny in a over thinky sort of way."<br />
<br />
"Boot lately, nothing we did would piss him oof and we rella di try, you know."<br />
<br />
"I'm sure you did."<br />
<br />
"Yeah but he wouldn't yell. He would just get more and more quiet and more and more angry. Finally the Sarge said to just leave him alone. That he could be as pissy as he wanted as long as he did his job right. So we did."<br />
<br />
"Till now."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, well, the squirrel thing was just to good to miss."<br />
<br />
"Brilliant."<br />
<br />
"Yeah."<br />
<br />
"Well, it was kind of funny." I admitted. "Do you think it worked?"<br />
<br />
"I hoope so."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, the yellin' in German was a good sign. He usually only does that when you break something."<br />
<br />
"So now what?" I asked. We still had an hour left in my training session and Anders had locked himself, and the keys, inside.<br />
<br />
"Tch, we rella should get er back un there afore Mr. Walter comes back."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, with that damn clipboard lookin all dissapprovin like."<br />
<br />
"Or the Sargent..."<br />
<br />
"shi...oot. We gotta get her back in" Griffin looked at me apologetically. I smiled back at him. tickled at his efforts to not swear around me. 'How odd my life is.' I thought.<br />
<br />
"Can ya jimmy the lock Porn?" Asked Bulls.<br />
<br />
Griffin nodded. "But you'll need to distract Anders. He's wicked mean with those needles."<br />
<br />
"Hmm." Said Bulls. "Tricky."<br />
<br />
"We could just ask him to open the door." I said.<br />
<br />
"Naw" Said Griffin. "Oh, I know. Corrine, why don't you.. (whisper, whisper)..Ouch!"<br />
<br />
I glared at him barely amused.<br />
<br />
"Fine, leave your top on. Oh, I know, you could bend over to get something and.. Ouch!"<br />
<br />
"Or," I said through gritted teeth. "we could just ask him to open the door."<br />
<br />
"Nooo, I dunna think so Corrine. It hasta be tricky you see."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, like if Corrine were to..."<br />
<br />
Don't make me hit you again."<br />
<br />
"OK, OK relax. No nudity sheeze."<br />
<br />
"Oooh, I know." Said Bulls, introducing a very bad plan involving a tow truck and a diffused hand grenade.<br />
<br />
"Naw," Said Griffin. "How about..." This was an even worse plan and involved a small brush fire.<br />
<br />
"Or," I said marching towards the transport. "we could just ask him to open the door."<br />
<br />
"Noo, Corrine. Noo! Ye can't ask him! It hasta be tricky."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, or it don't count. See?"<br />
<br />
"Fine." I sighed. "I'll think of something."<br />
<br />
"Good girl. I just need a minute, two tops, if he took the keys and I hav'ta hotwire it. "<br />
<br />
"Don you cut my pur babe. She's been through enough."<br />
<br />
I left them bickering,walked to the back door of the transport and knocked. "Anders?" I called out.<br />
<br />
"What do you want?" Came his muffled voice through the door.<br />
<br />
"Would you please open the door?"<br />
<br />
"Why?"<br />
<br />
" I..." I caught sight of Griffin circling the ambulance as Bulls kept waiving and tapping the side of his nose to remind me to be 'tricky'. I sighed. "I um, hit my head on the door frame when Griffin carried me into the Tortoise." I said.<br />
<br />
"So?"<br />
<br />
"I thought you could check it."<br />
<br />
"Ha!"<br />
<br />
I tapped my foot impatiently and was rewarded with a twinge where my leg had been clawed. "I ah, also think I may have ripped one of your sutures."<br />
<br />
The door swung open a bit, Anders stuck his head out, stared at my leg a moment then said, "No you didn't" and slammed the door shut in my face.<br />
<br />
Griffin who was now sidling his large frame along the far side of the vehicle gave me a thumbs up while Bulls was signaling me from the sidelines to 'stretch it out'. Subtle as turkey vultures, the both of them. I sighed and knocked again.<br />
<br />
"Anders?"<br />
<br />
"Still here?"<br />
<br />
"Yes. Please open the door."<br />
<br />
"Why?"<br />
<br />
"Because you've locked us out and I have to drive us back to the motor pool before Walter or Sergent Marks comes looking for us."<br />
<br />
Anders poked his head out the door and glared at me. "Why didn't you just say that the first time?"<br />
<br />
"Not tricky enough?" I asked meekly.<br />
<br />
His gaze shifted to Bulls then back to me. "Ah." He said. His mouth twitched slightly. He cleared his throat then in a loud voice said. "You think you ripped a suture you say?" He gazed at me expectantly.<br />
<br />
"Oh, ah yes. I think I may have." I said in an equally loud voice.<br />
<br />
"Well best come in then so I can check it." He shouted, opening the door wider and ushering me inside. He shook his head as he closed the door behind me. "So they went with the honey trap. Surprised you've still got your shirt on."<br />
<br />
I blushed. "This was the only plan that did not involve destruction of property and or nudity."<br />
<br />
"Ripped sutures?" He said. "Has anyone ever told you what a terrible liar you are?"<br />
<br />
"Pretty much everyone I've tried lying to." I confessed.<br />
<br />
That surprised a laugh out of him.<br />
<br />
"I really did bump my head though."<br />
<br />
"Good." He said sternly but moving over to run gentle fingers across my scalp to find the small lump.<br />
<br />
There was some muffled cursing outside as Griffin tried to jimmy the lock.<br />
<br />
"Idiots." Said Anders.<br />
<br />
"They really do mean well you know." I said.<br />
<br />
He raised his eyebrow at me.<br />
<br />
"In an oddly perverse and annoying kind of way."<br />
<br />
"They're not even trying to be subtle anymore."<br />
<br />
"They're just trying to cheer you up."<br />
<br />
He sighed. "I know."<br />
<br />
There was more muffled cursing and small metallic grinding noises as Griffin continued struggling with the lock.<br />
<br />
"You would think he'd be better at this." I said remembering Griffin bragging about all the cars he'd stolen as a kid.<br />
<br />
"Not if I've jammed the locking mechanism shut." He said. "Amazing what you can do with a clamp and some surgical tape."<br />
<br />
It was my turn to laugh. "You're like Medic MacGyver."<br />
<br />
"Yes." He said drolly. "He'll figure it out in a minute. He was born to steal. Follow my finger. Just your eyes please."<br />
<br />
He straightened out tucking his pen light away. "Your good." he said. tossing me the keys.<br />
<br />
"OK to drive then Doc?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Yes. Please do hurry before he tries to hotwire it."<br />
<br />
"No." I said touching his arm. "I mean, is it OK to drive with you?"<br />
<br />
He became quite still. "If I say no?"<br />
<br />
"Then I ask Walter to put me somewhere else."<br />
<br />
He stared at me intently for a long moment then held out his hand. "Lukas Anders." He said. "Looks like we'll be riding together."<br />
<br />
"Corrine Doyle." I said. "Looks like we are."<br />
<br />
There was a tearing noise then a sort of a 'sproingg ping' as the clamp broke loose and flew across the inside of the transport's cabin. A low, evil chuckle rumbled from Griffin as the lock popped open.<br />
<br />
He actually seemed disappointed to find me already sitting in the driver's seat.<br />
<br />
It all ended well though.<br />
<br />
I manged to back the Tortoise into the garage without further incident and Bulls was so delighted that Griffin had not had to hotwire her that he presented me with a nice pink lay to hang from the rear view mirror. Anders pretended to hate it beyond reason in front of them both and so everyone was happy by the time Walter arrived to fetch me for tea.<br />
<br />
Which, of course, made me happy.</div>
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