Sir Integra (shestheashes) wrote in knowhereic, @ 2017-07-16 02:11:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | hellsing ultimate: canon: alucard, hellsing ultimate: canon: intregra |
Characters: Integra Hellsing (Narrative but open to Alucard)
When/Where: Sunday, near morning/Her home
Rating/Warnings: Low
When she woke up, she didn't remember. Anything. It was a disorienting feeling, not to mention a frightening one. Enough to push herself up and look around cautiously. A few moments later she managed to turn a light on. Still, things were blurry. A few more moments produced glasses, which once she put them on she could at least see.
Clue number one then. She needed glasses. Clue number two, this room looked used so she was going to make the assumption it was hers. Or if not hers, at least familiar in some sense. She kept her caution as she got out of the bed and walked to the window. Opening it revealed an unfamiliar setting, that sparked nothing. She walked away from it, to the adjoining bathroom. Another light revealed a well kept, spacious and tidy place and a mirror that showed her. Tall, blonde hair that might be a bit longer then seemed useful, blue eyes. When she walked to the mirror and raised her fingers against it, nothing came. No name. The image was a stranger, the only real anything was the reflection mirroring her actions. With a sigh she removed her hand and set it on the bridge of her nose. There wasn't even a sense of a wall, or anything that seemed like it might feel amiss in her mind. Just no knowledge of who, where, why, or how. Nothing.
Frustrated she walked back into the bedroom. There was a table there with what she assumed was her day to day wear. Currently she wore a long shirt and comfortable pants where on the table was a different shirt, matching pants, and a long green coat that were carefully folded. To the side sat a long piece of cloth she couldn't find a name for and a cross on a chain. She picked that up in the hopes of something, but all it did was feel cold in her hands. She set it down again, without knowing if it was important. Further investigation offered up a sword, a gun (on the little table right next to the bed none the less, apparently she was the sort to need that), and a pair of gloves. Considering how they were placed, she had to assume she knew how to use them, but on the off chance of causing any harm she left them be.
The other door led out into a spacious living area, that alike the room at least looked used. Her's, or someone else's was up in the air. Again she went through the motions of turning on the lights, wondering exactly why it looked so dark, and came to pause at a couch. It stood in front of a low table and on that sat a book, a notepad, writing utensils, and an ash tray. Someone smoked then. She took a seat on the couch and picked up the book. Dracula.
She raised an eyebrow and opened it. First edition, with notations she couldn't quite understand. The notepad held written translations she couldn't make any heads or tails of and so she flipped to one of the empty pages and tore those off. She set it down and wrote simply 'who am I?' and when compared to the translations at least found out she'd made them. For whatever purpose.
She continued writing, simple questions she'd want answers. 'Where am I?' was next, after the who. She wondered what else she'd want to know but decided in the end she'd try and place things as they came. She looked up to note another closed door. This house felt too big for just one person, but perhaps she was particular about that. She shrugged, then took notes of the things she did know. It wasn't a terribly long list, really, but it was something. When she finished she rose and walked to the curtains and pushed them open. The look of outside wasn't any better. She could place nothing, and didn't want to risk the chance of getting lost.
In the end she ended up laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Trying, without much success, to figure out what was going on.