Roger Winry was a man who worked behind the scenes. His job was not one that was as spectacular or exciting as being a soldier, an assassin, or spy of the HELLSING organisation, but it was interesting and it was important. He used to work in Human Resources, but a few years ago, he was stationed elsewhere, in the mysterious Supernatural Relations Department. A serious chap, with a keen eye for detail, he was the head of the department's right hand in keeping everything up and running. It was hard work, but somebody had to do it, especially with a boss like Sir Jim Phantomhive.
Jim was excellent at his job, make no mistake on that, but at the same time, he was an active HELLSING field agent who got called out on missions from time to time, or would simply have to make room for it. That meant that from time to time, Roger had to pick up the slack. He didn't hate it, though. In fact, he rather appreciated the freedom from time to time.
Roger always wore a suit to work, even on special days where he was allowed to wear jeans. Sometimes, however, an eagle-eyed observer might spot a tattoo peeking out of his sleeves, which was why most people assumed he dressed that way, despite there being no policy against them. In reality, he liked how powerful it made him look and feel. He wore a pair of smart, rectangular glasses, and had a neatly trimmed, chinstrap beard on his face. A bit of a babyface, he liked how it made him appear more professional. Everywhere he went around the office, he walked with purpose, shoulders back, between the rows of desks where other representatives were meeting with supernatural clients, and he was no different, really. On most days, that's what he did as well. He met with supernatural clients, trying to put out quality work as quickly as possible. If he was your agent, whatever you needed done would be done almost twice as quickly.
But, he wasn't quite content with this. Recently, he was supposed to have his big break. He was supposed to go with the Phantomhive demons to Paris in order to guide the French supernatural organisation ORSAP on how to handle supernaturals in an efficient and humane manner. This opportunity was not to be, however, as former minister of defense, Eugenie Munier was captured by the notorious demon, Johnathan Beattie. Roger understood the need for the delay—he wasn't that callous, but he couldn't help but be a bit disappointed. While the matter was resolved swiftly, the demons needed a period of leave afterwards, which meant that he could not accompany them. The one day, out of the blue, the baronett came to the office.
"You're going to Paris." Jim announced, much to the shock of the bespectacled man sitting across from him. He had called Roger into his office located in the SR Department at the base, and instructed him to take a seat.
"Huh?" was all the other man could reply, despite graciously taking a file that was handed to him.
"All of the information about the mission—er, work trip should be there." the demon informed, arching his brow and looking up in thought. "I guess you could call it a 'mission,' actually? Anyway, you'll be taking a team of our representatives and collaborating with ORSAP on the project we talked about before. You'll be heading it. You still have the materials, right?"
"I do, but… Aren't you going, too?"
"Nope~! I've still got some scheduled leave coming up. A friend of mine is getting married, soon, so I've taken time off to help him get ready. So, unfortunately, I won't be able to go. I'm sure you can handle it. You probably know the plan better than I do, at this point!"
"Bodygaurds?!" Roger gawked as he stared down at the now open file in his lap. "Wait, these are some heavy hitters..."
"Yeah. Charlotte and Amelie Garou, as well as Mister Red and Mister Blue—those two will have alias' you'll have to remember before going, of course. It's a bit overkill, really. You shouldn't run into any trouble at all. We've already taken care of that. Red and Blue are going because Sir Integra is nosey about the whole thing, and the Garous are going because they both speak French. All of them should be able to act as translators, though. You'll be fine! Trust me. It'll be a piece of cake!"
With a pat on the back, next thing Roger knew, he was being shipped off via ferry across the English channel with a crew of some truly strange individuals. The salty, sea air chilled them, making them retreat deeper into their jackets as they clenched themselves tighter for more warmth. The seasons were changing and that wasn't the only thing.
Mister Red and Mister Blue seemed well versed in the mission, having been thoroughly briefed by whomever was in charge of the colourwheel spies. Red was a blond haired, blue eyed, older man with a chipper attitude and a yank accent. He stood on the deck of the ship with the others, watching the waves go by while munching on one of the seemingly infinite snacks he had hidden on his person and in his luggage. Like his name implied, he wore a black suit with a red tie, meanwhile his cohort's tie was appropriately blue. Mister Blue didn't give away much, but that was sort of the purpose behind his occupation. They had no identity. No name, no nationality, no origin story—nothing. They technically didn't exist. All that Roger could gather from Blue was that he looked older than him, had dark skin, black hair, and a well-kept beard—all completely superficial things, yes, but he seemed a lot more guarded. Roger didn't think he was going to get to know either of them very well at all by the end of the trip and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. He worried about the possibility of knowing too much and possibly being "erased."
He had better luck with the other two, however. Now, Roger was no stranger to working with supernaturals. It was his job, after all, but he had never really met the Garous before, despite the fact that they were slightly famous around the base. Charlotte was the tall, somewhat lanky one, with short hair and vampirism, while the short one with the long, white, hair was Amelie. The prior was nice enough. She had a reassuring smile and seemed absolutely ecstatic to be going on this mission. Apparently, despite speaking rather good French, this was her very first time ever going overseas. Meanwhile, Amelie, the one who was actually native to this country, seemed bored out of her mind. He was assured by Charlotte that that was just Amelie's face, but there was a twinge of something hidden underneath, he thought. From the sound of things, Charlotte thought similarly.
Once they were off the boat, Roger was crammed into a car with the four of them. The two men sat in the front seats with Mister Red driving, while Roger sat uncomfortably wedged between the two women. It would still be quite a while until they reached ORSAP headquarters, so in the meantime, everyone spent their time watching the passing scenery. They sat in agonising silence, all sort of wanting to say something but being unable to. They weren't exactly friends or anything, so that wasn't surprising. It did make things difficult, however. No one knew quite what to say.
"Huh..." Charlotte let out, deciding to bite the bullet and save them all from the misery. "I kind of expected it to look really different, but so far, nothing seems particularly out of the ordinary. There's a motorway, some towns… Is it weird that I'm surprised?" she asked, strategically making room for someone else to play off of her and get a conversation going.
"Ah, I guess." Roger replied, turning his head to face her. "This is your first time out of the country, right? Unfortunately, it's not all great architecture and art, but I can see what you mean."
"Oh! Have you ever been here?"
"Once. I went on holiday with my family when I was little. I don't remember much of it, though."
From there, the conversation ran the risk of dying out again. One thing that many HELLSING operatives knew was that one doesn't really ask about a person's family. It's fine if the information is volunteered, but prying about such matters could potentially be a faux pas. While many agents had perfectly ordinary and happy family lives, there were plenty that didn't. That's how they ended up here in the first place. Still, things were a bit different in the SR department, so in order to keep things moving, Roger turned his head to the other side and addressed the other woman.
"What about you, Amelie?" he asked. "Are you excited?"
"No." she replied, her face unchanging as she leaned over and stared out the window with her cheek in her palm. Amelie was a woman of few words, so she didn't feel much need to elaborate. It wasn't until she saw the reflection of her wife in the window, gesturing for her to carry on, she sighed and relented somewhat. "Not really." she corrected. "I don't know this place."
"Really? Aren't you French?"
"Yes." Amelie nodded. "And no. I was born here, I lived here for a while, and that's it. I don't recognise this place all, so I'm not attached to it, really. There weren't any motorways when I lived here."
"Oh… Right… Things can change in a few years…" That was an understatement, Roger realised, given that there were no motorways when Amelie claimed to be living in France, but it was honestly sort of difficult for him to rationalise someone that old sitting right next to him looking so young. Occasionally, he got this feeling from his boss as well. There was a disconnect between them that simply wasn't going to be filled without some serious understanding. "So… Does that mean you consider yourself more English?"
"No. I was born in France. I'm not entirely 'English' either. I know a lot about English culture and I've lived amoung you for a long time, but I still don't consider myself one of you. I like England. It's my home. But I'm not English." Finally, her expression changed. Her brow furrowed slightly in irritation. "It's hard to explain."
"Oh… Sorry..." Roger apologised, wondering if it was too late for him to get out of the car and attempt walking home. After that, though, Charlotte piped up, expelling the tension in the air with a smile.
"A lot really does change in a few years." she said. "I was born in the fifties, and everything's changed so much! The culture I grew up with just doesn't really exist anymore, and a lot of ways, that's a really good thing! Things have really improved since then. I can wear trousers and get married, but still, it can be hard to completely let go. I still like the music, and modern cars are kind of ugly, if I'm honest, but a lot of the same places and things are still around. Amelie's much older, so it really is a completely different place to her! That's what she means, I think."
"Yeah." Amelie agreed before falling silent again.
"Oh! That makes sense." the man agreed. "Being immortal sounds difficult..."
"It can be sometimes, but it also means that you never run out of new things to learn!"
Charlotte's optimism was reassuring for a while, but slowly, Roger began to wonder about it a bit. He knew she was trying to keep the peace, but he wondered about it lasting, especially since they would all be staying in close proximity for a while. Sir Phantomhive estimated that the mission would be over in a month or so, although that could easily turn into longer.
They arrived at their lodgings and unpacked, stretching their limbs after the long journey. Mister Red and Mister Blue shared a room and so did the Garous, but Roger was the only one with a room of his own. It was a relief, truly. He didn't know how he would cope, being crammed with the two shady spies, nor was he certain that staying with the two women would be much better. This way, he could have complete concentration and focus on his work. Not to mention, privacy. He wasn't really enthusiastic about spending a lot of time in a room with people he didn't really know. He'd lived with his girlfriend for some time, but that was different.
He checked his watch. It was going to be a late day, as he needed to meet a few key people and get the rundown of the base. He took this time to take his medication before adjusting his appearance. Then, he was crammed back into the car with the others and they made their way to ORSAP headquarters.
There, they met the two—previously three ministers, Urbain Quincampoix and Sabine Devereaux. The replacement Minister of defense was still getting their bearings in their new position and would come into the role eventually. The HELLSING operatives also met the remaining supernatural agents that ORSAP had to offer: the orc called "Hugo" and the vampiress called "Annie."
They seemed rather stiff, but were clearly impressed with HELLSING's own supernatural agents. Both Charlotte and Amelie simply stared back at them with their respective default expressions, with Amelie looking unimpressed and Charlotte offering a friendly smile. The Garous could tell right away that they were a little wet behind the ears, but they had a little bit of experience.
"We—welcome to ORSAP!" Hugo loudly greeted, urgent to use the English phrase he had been practising for the last few days. He still didn't know how to speak the language, but he made a sincere attempt.
"Thank you very much!" Charlotte cheerfully answered back, speaking in his native tongue with only a hint of an accent. "We look forward to working with you!"
Blood immediately rushed to the orc's cheeks as a wave of embarrassment washed over him. Of course they sent people who spoke the language. They were professionals, after all. All he wanted to do in that moment was fade into the background and let Annie handle the rest. He never wanted to talk again. Worse, the shorter woman with Charlotte was staring at him. He didn't know if she was judging him or what, but her expression didn't inspire any sort of confidence. Just then, she raised her hand and gave him a thumbs up.
"Good job." she said to him in English. Her face didn't move, but there appeared to be a bit of a smile in her eyes.
"G-good job." he answered back, returning the gesture to Amelie. Maybe she really wasn't that scary.
That was how the HELLSING/ORSAP partnership began. They would spend the next few hours laying the groundwork and giving tours of the facility and then the next day, they would all get to work. All of them were eager to advance ORSAP's capabilities as a supernatural organisation, as while it certainly had the military capability, it was lacking that essential element for the time being. They were eager to bring more supernaturals on board and work with them to alleviate any supernatural threats to the country and its people, including the supernaturals, themselves. Things would be changing rapidly, but it would also feel like it was taking a long time. Forms had to be filled, projects had to be approved, and there was still a ways to go before things were up and running, and supernatural beings could receive the benefits of the reform, just like those in London had.
Well, perhaps not everyone. There were still plenty of supernaturals back in the United Kingdom that were living outside of Gehenna and Pyestock, to varying degrees of success. Some people thrived that way. Others struggled, but made do. Some had no choice but to return to the supernaturally occupied areas.
Liam, for example, was able to find a place to stay for a few days at the home of his old friend, Gordon. Gordon was an easygoing minotaur who had a bit of a hard time saying "no," but that didn't mean that it didn't take some effort. His wife was certainly not pleased about the situation. She was hard-headed, despite not having horns, and was eager to keep her house as harmonious as possible. Although, she did admit that part of her aversion was that she didn't want any additional stress, given that she was pregnant. But, she was empathetic, and gave him a week to find new lodgings. Kristopherson was in the clear in that respect, but not entirely.
Now that he had a place to put his belongings, Liam walked into Andrea's as per Logan's advice and looked for something to wear. Unfortunately for him, although he knew that he could find clothes here, he wasn't exactly sure how pick out his size. He was much larger in his werewolf form, after all, but he couldn't exactly go out in public without any clothes on. In addition, it was a little bit hard to focus on the task while he could feel Kristopherson's eyes boring int o the back of his head from behind the counter.
He had been politely greeted by Liam when he walked in and they had engaged in a few lines of small talk. Liam was being polite and didn't think he had said anything to offend the other man. Although, with some people, any ex of their boyfriend is automatically an enemy. Suddenly, Kristopherson clicked his tongue and stood up, walking across the room to face his guest directly.
"Do you need help finding your size?" he asked, unintentionally looming over the other man's shoulder.
"Huh?" The question wasn't at all what Liam expected, so it caught him a bit by surprise. "Oh… Uh… Yeah… I don't know how big I need to go for when I'm in my wolf state."
In truth, Kristopherson already knew what he was looking for, having been filled in by Logan, and had simply grown tired of watching Liam struggle. Ordinarily, he would have immediately jumped to help a customer, but he did feel a bit awkward about it, given who Liam was. Kristopherson didn't want him to feel like he was not welcome, here, although that was the unintentional result of his hemming and hawing about it.
"That's no problem. There's a bit of math involved in that, but we can figure it out, pretty easily." Kristopherson informed. "If you want to step into the back, I can take your measurements."
He gestured for Liam to follow him and, without any other ideas, the other werewolf complied, although he was a bit nervous. Stepping into the back alone with Kristopherson, out of sight of everyone else? Kristopherson was a big guy. If he wanted to rough Liam up, he could very easily. Seemingly out of nowhere, the wolfman in the pink tie summoned a tape measure and began giving instructions on how to stand so he could do his work. Each time he got a number, he paused to jot it down.
"Are you liking Gehenna alright, so far?" Ordinarily, Kristopherson was chipper with clients, making friendly banter the whole time, so he made an attempt.
"It's good. It's a lot nicer than it was before. Lots of shops and such." Liam answered.
"Logan said you're interested in owning a bar." the other wolfman stated. "There's a lot of restaurants around here. Have you tried any?"
"Ah, one or two. I also tried the bakery next door. It was good. I went to one place, though, and they had mice on the menu?"
"Ah. Yeah, I know that place. It's run by tanuki, so that's why. It makes sense, since they eat that sort of thing. I don't really fancy trying it any time soon, though."
"Yeah, me neither. But, I'm hoping one of them might hire me, maybe. There's not a lot of bars around here, is there?"
"The Wolf Glen's just about the only place in town that has one, but a pub and a bar are different, aren't they? I think you could still open one."
"You think so? I'm not really sure if I can appeal to the market if there isn't much of one…"
"Then you should make one. I think bloody mary's might sell well in this town."
"Pfft-!" Liam sputtered, not expecting the joke. Maybe Kristopherson wasn't so bad. Sure, he was big and flashy, but that sort of thing could potentially be charming, in its own way, Liam supposed. The shopkeep did have a nice face and figure, so he reckoned there was some appeal.
After gathering all of the numbers he needed, Kristopherson started punching the buttons on his calculator and writing down even more numbers. When he was done, he handed a piece of paper to Liam with the final measurements circled and carefully labeled for him.
"Here's the rough measurements you should be looking for." Kristopherson explained. "Most of the time, werewolves grow kind of consistently in proportion, but sometimes they don't, so I can't really make you anything custom unless you come in on a full moon and have someone measure you properly. We have a lot of stuff on the rack, though. I hope that's alright."
"It is!" Liam agreed, looking the paper over. So Kristopherson was buff, handsome, well-dressed, talented, successful, and smart. While he was hopeful about finding new clothes, now, Liam still felt suddenly self conscious. If he could have just a few of those things, he would be happy, but Kristopherson was really the full package, huh? No wonder Logan was into him. "Thanks! You've really helped a lot!"
Finally, the shopkeep gave a genuine smile. "Let me know if you need anything else. I'll be happy to help some more!"
Shit, he was radiant. What the hell? He led Liam out of the measuring room and went back behind the counter, leaving the other wolfman to browse freely. There were a few racks of trousers, shirts, and jackets in various colours, designs, and sizes. There were some with tail holes and some without. On shelves, there were neatly organised and folded underwear and socks, but no shoes, which meant that Liam would have to go somewhere else for that. There was a cobbler somewhere on this street, so it wasn't too far. The clothes were a bit pricey, here, he soon realised. They were all made by hand, rather than in factories, which explained the upcharge, but Liam was still a bit surprised. He had the money, but it was dipping into his savings a lot more than he'd hoped. Perhaps that was why most of the shop consisted of sewing supplies, fabric, and patterns. It was cheaper to avoid paying for the labour and just sewing it oneself, but since Liam didn't have the time or skill, he was a bit stuck. What choice did he have but to fork over the cash?
Eventually, he found a complete outfit that he could wear to get his photo taken—sans shoes, of course—and he made his way toward the register, fully resigned to his fate. The owner of the shop punched in everything while Liam took out his already aching wallet, only for the total to ring up much lower than he expected.
"That isn't right…" Liam said. "That's not even close to what I got…"
"I added a discount." Kristopherson replied, cutting off the tags with a pair of scissors he produced from under the counter.
"Oh. Did I not see a sign or something."
"No, I just added one." the other man replied. "Would you like a bag?"
"Uh, yeah, I would, but… Why?"
"To carry your stuff in?"
"No, why the discount?"
"Because I'm the owner of the shop and I can do what I want." Kristopherson answered, neatly folding the garments and carefully placing them in the bag. It was made of canvas and had the shop name on it. The shopkeep snipped a tag off the handle without adding any additional fee. He held on to it and paused, staring at Liam without handing it over.
"Oh! Here…" The other wolfman counted out his money and handed it to Kristopherson, who then carefully set it in the register. After counting his change and printing a receipt, he handed Liam his money with one hand and his bag with the other.
"Have a nice day."
"Uh, you too."
Awkwardly and abruptly, the entire exchange ended and Liam carried his purchases to his next stop. Hopefully, he would get everything in order, soon, but he was happy that Kristopherson was lenient on him. He didn't say it, but he knew that Liam was in a bit of a tough spot and needed to stretch his money out as far as he could, so he knew from the start that he was not going to charge him full price. This place had really rubbed off on the wolfman, it seemed—that and having Jim Phantomhive as a friend didn't hurt any. Regardless, Liam was grateful. It seemed to him that although Kristopherson could be a bit harsh upon first meeting him, he was an alright guy. That made him feel pretty good about leaving Logan in his care.
Life went on for everyone. All anyone could do was manage the best they could and that was enough. A little kindness from others, however, certainly went a long way.
A/N: Here's the thing... This chapter was originally... like... I had it up to like, fourteen pages, but then once again, I had to cut it! This chapter was supposed to peek in on Brittany, too, but her problems are just so complicated that it felt shitty to just say "here you go!" and then offer no closure or even hope that things might get better for her someday.
I'm not really into the shit where it's like "Here's some hopeless, depressing shit! Fuck you, I hope your day is ruined nyeh!" Like? No, that's not constructive, I don't think. Tragedy is fine, but you can't just be sad for the sake of being sad. You have to kinda like... have a point? Whereas, the snapshot of Brittany after returning home just... doesn't? It's something that in order to have purpose and meaning, I would need to make it a full miniarc, and I don't have a resolution for it at this time, so I can't even begin to delve into that right now.
She's been through some shit, hasn't she? She's not the sort I can just throw into HELLSING and say: "She has a community of people helping her now! So she'll be fine!" because she's not a fighter. She can't handle things like Jim or Ciel can. She can't work on herself by being an agent of HELLSING because that's not really who she is and she really doesn't have anybody right now. I need to find a way to get her a support network... I'll be on the hunt for it until then...
So that's why it took so long for such a comparatively short chapter. I hope that's not too disappointing! I'll make up for it with some shenanigans in the next one!
Until then, my duckies~!
