paradisalost | My word is my will

Entry tags:

My word is my will

Who: Integra and Legato
When: February 3rd
What: Eris starts to have an effect on both
Where: The gym
Rating: Creeper? Idk...

Since the moment she had become Sir Hellsing and taken charge of the organisation and a monster in one fell swoop, Integra had never been anything less than completely self-assured. She had to be -- uncertainty could lead to deaths, and even the slightest trace of self-doubt was exploited mercilessly by Alucard and his infuriating ability to get under her skin.

That said, she was still human. She was still a mortal woman who had unsurities and fears, she merely knew how to control and dismiss them. Yet somehow that seemed less so now. Somehow no matter what she did, she could not banish the niggling questioning of her own decisions and abilities. So much rode on her orders and her iron will, yet she was not foolish enough to believe she was the first to profess she would not give in.

The others had. Perhaps she would too.

She had not been able to keep proper control of Alucard since she arrived, his behaviour unpredictable and jarring with his amnesia. She could not be sure she had been making the right decisions, she could not say with certainty to her actions were definitely taking them towards freedom from this prison.

Angry at herself for this weakness of self-doubt, she had decided to hone her more physical skills to take her mind from the endless questioning. Ordering the gymnasium to become a suitable place for sword training, she was running through some of the more advanced fencing moves.

Alone, where the silence was only broken by her own footfalls and heavy breathing, surely she could cast aside this idiotic neurosis back where it belonged. She was no wilting flower to question her every move. She was a Hellsing, she was Sir Hellsing.

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The unending thoughts were obviously a sign that he was failing. They had to be. He wasn't doing enough-- merely letting this place rust and rot him. It had been an entire year, and he had done nothing of worth. For the past month, he'd even considered the thought that perhaps he was expecting too much of a dead man, and that maybe his all-important quest was nothing but folly.

Now, however... the fact that he'd even begun to entertain such a thought sickened him beyond words. He was nothing without his mission, and believing anything else was simple disgusting selfishness.

So, today he searched. He was looking for all the pieces, the cogs that would carry him forward. In his search, he nearly dismissed her, walking aimlessly past the gym, picking up and spitting out her presence as he'd done with the other mortals he'd passed that day... but he didn't get much farther than that, in her case. Backtracking after a moment of consideration, he stepped into the doorway to observe. Picking up her mental shape and turning it curiously, inspecting her as he mulled her worth over in his mind.

Integra may have no psychic powers, but she was observant enough to notice when someone was watching her. Refusing to allow herself to react until she had finished her current set of movements, even though she was struck with an odd self-conscious worry that whoever was observing would pick out the flaws in her form and technique, she finally sheathed her sword and turned.

That it was Legato somehow did not surprise her, he had a habit of showing up where she had not been expecting him. He reminded her so forcibly of Alucard. That same dark undercurrent of delight and intense slightly twisted way of looking at the world, comparisons she had not been able to help making even the first time they had met.

"It is rude to stare, Mr. Bluesummers."

Taking that as an invitation, he stepped fully inside the gymnasium. If there was some distant part of her that worried that her watcher was picking apart her movements and probing for flaws, it would not be an unfounded concern. It was precisely what he was doing, in fact, and he was finding this fact harder to hide, today. There was very little mask to shield the cold consideration from his gaze, as he forced a smile.

"Forgive me."

Really, there was something relieving about being able to focus all of the gnawing mental energy that had been haunting him, on one target. He found that zeroing in and feeling every one of Integra's gestures had a therapeutic effect on his edgy mind.

"Practicing, I see?"

With the way her thoughts had been going, she was unsure if his intensified gaze was truthful or just a product of odd mental state she seemed to have found herself in. Whichever, she schooled herself to remain unflinching under his stare and cool in her reactions.

Why was he looking at her like that? Could he see her imbalance? No... no, that was foolish. She had to get a grip on herself, this was ridiculous.

"One cannot expect their skills to remain sharp without practice."

"By all means, don't stop on my account. You wouldn't mind if I watched, would you?"

He couldn't entirely keep the slight edge of a dare out of his tone. Everything was a test, after all. Every bit of it.

Her spine straightened slightly. Even if she were completely wracked with doubt of her ability to stand straight, she would not allow herself to show it to those around her. The weaknesses of her mind were not to be put on public display, she was no foolish girl who could not control herself.

She heard the challenge in his voice, glasses flashing in the light as she tilted her chin up to meet his gaze unwaveringly.

"You may do as you wish."

"Wonderful. I must admit that I've been curious to see a Hellsing in action." --With all of the emphasis she liked put on her family line.

So, he found a comfortable place against the wall to observe from, eyes unfocusing as he paid far more attention toward the feel of her movements than anything he was watching with his eyes.

A few moments given to allow her to settle into the rhythm of practice before he speaks again. "...I met your new recruit the other day. Mr. Spiegel."

Regardless of what she may be feeling about her own abilities, she was a blade master and her movements were almost flawless. Strong and crisp and sure, everything her thoughts currently weren't.

Spike Spiegel? Another decision she had perhaps made too hastily. He had reminded her of Captain Bernadotte, and she had so few allies here that it had seemed a sensible decision at the time. But truthfully she knew very little about him, he had already proven to be less disciplined than was ideal. Was that a foolish choice to hire him?

She chose not to answer, focusing herself on the set of movements she had decided up and and not even looking at him again until they were over.

Every little thing--both spoken and unspoken--told him a little bit more. And he missed nothing.

When it is clear that she is going to continue her routine without responding, which itself is one more bite of information, he continues.

"He is an interesting man. Not exactly what I expected to meet, but I'm sure you have your reasons for hiring him."

When she finally completed her set of movements, she turned to face Legato once more and deigned to answer his question. Such a question shouldn't bother her, and yet it did. It brought into light all the reasons why hiring Spike had been potentially foolish, a loose cannon.

"I do."

Even if she is second-guessing each of them in this moment, she has to try and remain firm in her decision.

"None of which are any of your concern."

He smirked, just a little. "I told you that I would be paying closer attention to the movements of your 'organization.' So thank you for making it something worth watching."

Leaving the wall, he wandered a few steps into the room.

"And thank you for hiring recruits that happen to make the task much easier for me."

That smirk ran right through her and made her skin crawl, exactly the same unhealthy obsession that often lit Alucard's face. Enjoying making her squirm, enjoying getting under her skin.

When she had met this man she had assumed she was safe in allowing their continued acquaintance, she was sure of herself and strong, but now... Perhaps she had been playing with fire like a foolish child, about to learn its lesson now the house was aflame.

"Any benefit to you from my actions has been purely coincidental." She arched an eyebrow, attempting to keep hold of her cool visage. "I do not operate for anyone's amusement."

How much of her thoughts he managed to pick up from her actions and posture was difficult to tell, but his smile did slide a little wider, and he halted his meandering approach. Standing a conversational distance from her.

"Coincidental or not, the fact remains that your actions do benefit me. And I am still hoping that it can be a mutual exchange."

He still wanted to work with her... now more than ever. He couldn't help the thought.

"As long as we are both working towards the common goal of freedom, there is no reason our actions cannot benefit one another."

As soon as the words left her mouth she was regretting them, second guessing if they were the right ones. Should she have been firmer in wanting to know his ulterior motives? Was she playing into his hands?

The side of his mouth quirked, and there was the distinct look of approval at that. Whatever his motives, that was obviously exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Then, we are in agreement."

His eyes fall to her blade, then. Considering.

"So, is this the last line of defense that Sir Integra Hellsing relies on in the war against the vile monsters, if there is no aid to be found from her loyal pet?"

Angling her blade as he looked at it, she sheathed it while trying to seem unhurried and not as though his scrutiny had made her want nothing more than to remove the object from sight.

"I have many lines of defence, but to reveal them all would be foolish. No commander displays her full hand, even to allies."

"Ah. That is good to hear, then. I was a bit concerned that it might come down to your life depending on it, at some point."

She might have walked into that one. Whether he was subtly picking on the weapon itself, or her skill with it, the fact remained that he saw the opportunity to slip in the comment and see where it went.

Was he inferring that she was weak with her blade? That she would be unable to defend herself against attack because her skill was pathetic? Or perhaps he believed that she, as a person, were not strong enough to cope with the adrenaline of true attack and would fold under pressure.

Spine stiffening slightly, she managed to keep the unsure tone out of her voice, if not banished completely from her eyes.

"I am capable of defending myself."

"I am sure you are. It was an impressive display."

A pause, putting emphasis on a moment of thought, there. "...It's just that I didn't often see such an archaic ability employed in the face of true danger, where I'm from."

He knew a swordsman once. He was shot and killed. You can wave your little blade around, Integra, but he doesn't see how it will help you against true monsters.

She had learned to fence for balance and poise, because it was a worthwhile skill for a proper English lady to use. But sometimes a sword could be of more use than even she could have expected. If guns were rendered null, and subordinates were unavailable, she still had a last line of defence.

Was he implying that her world was tame in comparison to his own? Perhaps doubting her ability to take care of what he thought of as a real threat? Her fingers tightened slightly on the hilt of her blade, wanting nothing more than to be rid of the damn thing now.

"However archaic it may seem to you, there are few people who would suspect the sword were anything but ceremonial. The element of surprise and cold steel combined can go a long way to winning any fight."

His smile turned a bit softer. Something usually more suited for a child than the head of the Hellsing organization, but he thought it quite appropriate here.

"I still have no doubt that your will is formidable enough to challenge the castle's games, but... now I am wondering if you are not so suited to face the monsters who live here."

Thoughtful and appraising, he began to step around her, looking her over as if comparing what he sees now to the image of her he had previously built in his mind.

"I have little doubt that the creatures here are not the ones you are accustomed to facing."

Even if she had doubted her very name, Integra would not allow a slur like that to pass. Her jaw raised and the light flashed across her glasses, eyes like ice as they bored into his without fear.

"No matter what the foe, the Hellsing Organisation will not allow itself to be beaten."

Suitable? She would prove to them all how suitable she was, including herself. Damn this self-doubt to hell, she would not bow to any attack. Even from inside herself.

This reaction didn't faze him, and--again--he liked what he saw. Approval. Further confirmation on his decision to remain interested in this human. That excitement that had laced everything he's done for the past few days thrummed up in response to her reaction.

"Then, if you are going to practice, why don't you test yourself against something that even remotely resembles what you will really face here. Thin air doesn't truly test your skill, does it? It is the least you can do before boldly making such claims."

He was getting bolder, something unguarded and raw in his eyes as he challenged her. For it was a challenge, no matter how he worded it, any fool could see that.

Perhaps she would lose, she was hardly confident in her ability to even continue talking with this creature let alone fight him, but if she lost then she would do so with pride. Blade drawing with a sibilant hiss of metal, she regarded him coolly.

"Then I suggest you stand en garde."

He smiled.
It couldn't be helped, not with this wicked pleasure slithering through him. She dangled in front of him, and he couldn't resist reaching out to hook at her with his claws.

Taking a step back and drawing an even breath, his eyes brightened as he focused every bit of his attention on her-- the only readying he cared to do in preparation for this little spar.

So very rarely did he ever lower himself to become engaged in a physical struggle of any kind. Opponents were never allowed close enough to even try. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of it; his upbringing demanded nothing less. It was just so against his way of thinking and dealing with trials, he simply harbored an intense distaste for it. Weapons were what they used.

He used no weapon, but simply allowing her to come at him with one went against his instincts. He was making an exception for her. There may have even been something about this perversion of his personal morals that added to his interest in it. The same sick enjoyment he derived from humoring Integra even in conversation.

Raising her weapon, she stood in a ready stance with her eyes fixed on him. Attempting to watch for any change in his body, any subtle reaction that would give him away or a clue to what his first attack might be.

She had been trained well, and even wondering if she had made a foolish decision here, she knew not to make the first move. Attacking rashly gave the opponent the chance to gauge your strength and skill, defence allowed you the advantage.

It seemed they were at an impasse.

An impasse indeed. Striking first went against his nature as much as striking at all did, but... if he was going to break his own conventions already, he might as well not hold back.

After stepping closer a wordless pace or two, he suddenly moved forward in a rush, one long stride bringing him straight into her reach. He was unarmed and came at her directly, giving no indication of what he intended to do once he reached her, but everything about his expression said that it was no empty threat.

The moment he moved, she allowed instinct to take over. Something aside from thoughts of right and wrong, muscles automatically tensing and the adrenaline of battle spurring her into movement.

Another opponent may have refused to fight Legato because he was unarmed, or pull their swings to make sure he was not injured. Not Integra. She had no doubt he was capable of defending himself, and any injuries either sustained were just a mark that they needed to improve.

Stepping aside and slicing downwards, she aimed for his calf. Severing the tendons was a good immediate strike, as most people expected a shot at head or heart, and if she were successful her opponent was rendered a lot less dangerous.

He felt her body leap into action, the crackle of nerves, synapses, lighting up as if they were his own. This proximity, so focused on her motions and completely engaged, the sensation was a little intoxicating.

He easily predicted the arc of her swing as soon she began her strike, tracing its trajectory in his mind and pivoting away from the blade as it lashed close. Leaving nothing but his coat for her weapon to bite as he dodged, he stepped around even closer, his strides bringing her dangerously close to arm's reach if she doesn't move quickly.

Edited 2011-02-10 00:28 (UTC)

As soon as her weapon met nothing but fabric, she was spinning to keep him in her sight and defend herself against attack. Yet she did not step out of arm's reach, instead biding her time.

Calm. Outwardly confident, eyes flashing with concentration and determination.

When he moved closer for the attack, she would use her lesser height to her advantage and thrust underneath his reach.

Again, as soon as her strike began, he could feel its intent as if he was moving her limbs himself. And knowing how true her maneuvers were--he'd seen her skill, felt the speed as she practiced--he knew that blade would stay true on its path. If anything, her perfection made her movements easier to track. There was nothing erratic about her.

With a twist, he avoids the blade and is forced back a step... but still. It seemed as though it was possible that she should have hit. The strike came so close.

Stepping his weight back, there is a moment where he is correcting himself, readying to come at her again. ...You're move, Integra.

She has the uneasy feeling he is playing with her, as a cat may play with a mouse allowing it to have the illusion of freedom before devouring it. The thought, the doubt, that came with that feeling sends cool anger sweeping through her.

No matter what she thought of herself, she would not allow another to treat her in this mocking manner. Fingers tightening on the hilt of her blade, she lowered her centre of gravity and feinted towards his knees, slicing upwards at the last minute to aim for his ribcage.

Across his face broke a bit of a grin, as the trajectory for this one caused the image of a bloody mess to spill into his mind. He twisted back from the strike and fell back another step as it abruptly changed course and snapped up towards his torso, but the speed of his limbs was nowhere near the trained level of hers. In this case, it didn't matter if he could predict the weapon's path or not-- his body simply didn't match the speed of his thought. This one would catch him, and he couldn't help the clear image of what it would do to him when it did.

It should have caught him.

Instead, the blade meets nothing but fabric again, slashing at his coat and shirt.
She missed.

She is aware that swing should have met its mark, and she is abruptly unsure that she is fully aware of what she is fighting. He did not dodge that through sheer dexterity alone, and the meagre resistance of fabric has her mind racing.

She cannot win, she was a fool to accept the challenge. She has made the wrong decision in allowing him so close, she...

Eyes narrowing, she pivots back on the ball of her right foot and goes for a classic lunge towards his gut.

His grin is manic, now. Hungry and unhidden as he meets her lunge with one of his own, diving directly toward her blade.

She should have hit. Her blade was perfectly on mark, centered flawlessly as he dived for her. At the last moment however, she could feel the error. Her own muscles simply didn't do as told, deviating just enough.

Her weapon shears along his side, cutting a meager amount of flesh, nothing close to what is needed to stop him as he sweeps in, a heavy hand slamming in to grab for her collar.

This was not in her head, it was jarringly obvious the error was coming from without. Her arms had moved without her permission, pushing the blade aside to keep him from being injured.

As he reached out to grab her collar, she deliberately sheathed her weapon. She would not fight when he was cheating so dishonourably, not when they had already had discussions about him using her mentally.

Glasses flashing, she deployed the most simple tactic for ending a fight with any man. Her knee came out swiftly and mercilessly between his legs. If he wasn't going to fight fair, then there was no reason for her to. In a fight for your life, you used what you needed to win, regardless of how uncouth it was.

Edited 2011-02-12 00:18 (UTC)

He didn't bother stopping that blow. As her knee hit, he let her go with a hard shove back, and doubled over.

Hands on his knees, and laughing, while he caught his breath.

Between breaths and his low chuckling, voice tinged with discomfort, "That isn't... very ladylike, Sir Integra."

"When fighting for one's life, it is important to remember that survival is everything."

Ladylike behaviour was all well and good, and something she applauded, but propriety could only go so far when you were knee deep in blood and filth.

"I believe I gave my opinions regarding your intrusion into my mind without permission."

Yes, survival is everything. And he lets her own words hang there in front of her for a moment, before glancing up, face still laced with that smile.

"And I told you that you were unprepared for the monsters here."

Another short chuckle, pulling himself together, straightening up again.

"Do you think the other creatures here will so politely obey your requests?"

She should not have been so open with him, already she was regretting not holding her tongue.

"When fighting a true monster, I will fight to kill."

Rather than here, where she fought to train. He may call her unprepared, and perhaps she was, but she would not shrink from the coming battles.

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My word is my will

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