[ Binning her emptied, plastic punch cup, Sir Hellsing glances up to see Mika's agitated push through the sea of bodies... and the figure tracking her easily like a blood hound. She goes to intercept the young woman, the clicking of her heels unheard beneath the music and her heart leaping into the back of her throat.
Anderson is here. Anderson is here. The last time she saw him, he had died with a smile on his face, falling to pieces like the drifting cotton off a dandelion. Integra's arms open to Mika, moving to enfold her swiftly. ]
Father Alexander Anderson. To what do I owe this honor?
[ Her tone is mild, level, self assured with practiced ease. It was going to get more complicated around here, apparently. ]
no subject
Anderson is here. Anderson is here. The last time she saw him, he had died with a smile on his face, falling to pieces like the drifting cotton off a dandelion. Integra's arms open to Mika, moving to enfold her swiftly. ]
Father Alexander Anderson. To what do I owe this honor?
[ Her tone is mild, level, self assured with practiced ease. It was going to get more complicated around here, apparently. ]