The curtain rod gave way with a small crash. Alucard jumped back just in time, but caught his balance wrong and had to make a desperate grab for the back of a nearby chair to remain upright. He swore under his breath in his native language. Mortal bodies were so useless. He continued his imprecations--against the universe in general, and Knowhere in particular--as he freed the drape from its rings. The drape itself was made of cotton, dyed a deep blood red. It was far too long, but wide enough at least that it would cover him from the waist down. Alucard wound it around himself several times before slipped from the room into Integra's as quietly as he could.
Once there, he appropriated one of her knives. Alucard shed the curtain and laid it out, then cut it down to a more manageable length, careful of his now vulnerable fingers. He secured the fabric around his waist yet again before he emerged in the hallway.
"Integra," he called again, "I do not wish to alarm you, and so I must wanr you that I am quite without suitable clothing."