Hours passed since the Watchdog returned home. Ciel laid awake in bed having changed out of his uniform, simply reflecting on the day he had. Not only had he been told by one of his underlings that the recruits respect him and find him to be an admirable man, his husband had accepted all of the rough feelings that he had struggled to put into words. Alois even accepted his fantasies and suggested that they try them out. Ciel was fairly certain that he was dreaming by this point and was simply waiting to wake up, but he found himself unable to. No matter how long he laid in bed, he just wouldn't wake up in it, reaffirming to him that this was indeed real.
The bluenette had no idea how much time had passed before he heard the gentle knock at the door. "Ciel?" called the voice of his husband on the other side. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah." Ciel answered. "It's unlocked."
Tentatively, Alois walked into the room. First, he peeked his head through the door to assess the situation before the rest of him followed. He found his husband laying on his back with his hand behind his head while the other rested on his stomach. The bluenette looked comfortable, so the menace felt bad about disturbing him. Under his arm, Alois carried a notepad of his own.
"I had a few ideas for assassinating the Pomeroys." the blonde started with, but he dropped it rather quickly. "Mostly I just wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?"
"I'm good." Ciel replied, not moving to get up. He did rearrange his pillow so that his head was propped up to look at him, however. "Is this about the diary?"
"I'm sorry..." Alois stated, but his husband simply shook his head.
"Don't be. I'm not upset about that. I've just been having a weird day." the bluenette simply waved off. "I think I might be starting to get attached to the troops and that's a terrifying prospect, given their occupation. They even look up to me and all that. Then I come home and you're all happy because you liked all of that rather mushy stuff I wrote about you. It's all so positive and all so much to process."
"I'm… I'm not sure what to say to that…"
"You don't have to say anything. That's just the explanation for me winding up like this. I was actually very embarrassed that you found my notes, but now I've accepted that you've accepted it." Ciel said. Finally, he willed himself to sit up before holding out his arms to invited the blonde in to a hug. At last, his husband finally cracked a smile as he set down his notepad in order to take Ciel up on his silent offer. Alois was comfortable. Both of them were. He was also relieved.
"I love you." the menace stated. "What you wrote made me really happy and I'm so happy for you, too! I'm glad they see some of what I see in you, 'Mister Respected Leader'."
"We're going to have to have a talk about some of the stuff in that journal, but do you mind if it waits for a bit?"
"Yeah, there's no rush for any of it."
"Good." Ciel replied, smiling a bit, himself, as he held his beau close. "I'm a bit shaken from all of this."
"What? The realisation that you might in fact be a good person who people enjoy the company of?"
"Well… yeah, pretty much." the bluenette said. "I just thought that people were trying to make me feel better?"
"Why would they try to make you feel better if they didn't like you?" Alois questioned incredulously.
"To be fair, it's mostly you and Lizzie who do it."
"That's because we love you!"
"I know, but… you mean it?"
"You big dope..." the blonde shook before kissing the other man's cheek. "Course I do!"
"I feel so supported." Chuckled the Watchdog. He nuzzled his beau lightly before spotting the notepad on the bed next to them. "Oh! Did you still want to go over your plans?"
"If you're okay with it, sure." Releasing his husband, Alois turned to pick up the notepad before holding it up to view. "I think staged suicides are the way to go, but I don't have that many ideas and I'm not very good at bewitching people."
"Oh! Bewitching people into doing the job themselves! Very smart." praised the other. Pointing to the page, Ciel added: "And I see that Felix Pomeroy takes the train every morning."
"Right! All somebody has to do is lock eyes with him inconspicuously and as soon as the train comes, BAM! Witnesses will just see him jumping onto the tracks himself, and that kind of feeds into this other idea I had..."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Well, I was wondering, if enough of them start dying this way, won't they be a bit freaked out? Like there's some kind of curse?"
"They are cursed. You cursed them." Ciel reminded. "That's the whole reason they're dying."
"Yeah, but they'll suffer more if they're terrified of being next." Alois explained, but he had to concede that it was a bit far-fetched. "Then again, they're mobsters, so they might suspect that it's a set-up. They'll still be scared, sure, but what if they leave the country? I can't just pack up and leave, especially if they go to a country that is out under Iscariot Jurisdiction. Or even just another jurisdiction, really. That could get messy fast."
"So you need a way to kill them all before they leave the country?" his beau recapped. "I can help you with that."
"Yeah, but I don't want to get in the way of your work." the menace stated. "You have the lads to worry about."
"No, it'll be no trouble. I'll train the lads during the day, and at night, I'll assassinate human traffickers. It'll be fine."
"Are you sure? At night is when you wind down from the day and I think it's kind of important that you still have that."
"I can manage. It won't be every night, anyway." Placing a kiss to his husband's cheek, Ciel said: "If I can't manage this much, what kind of husband would I be?"
"A semi-normal one."
"Who would want that?"
While other spouses might watch television or talk about what's happening in the world together in order to wind down for the evening, the Phantomhives spent this time plotting the demises of others as a bonding activity. They spoke of padded handcuffs and planting evidence. They spoke of avoiding back-spatter and security cameras. Thank god, they were demons, as it made everything all the more simple. They cuddled together as they did this and praised each other's creativity and ingenuity whenever the other came up with an especially clever idea.
Late into the night, they concocted several rather solid plans of attack that needed only a smidgen of fleshing out before they could be implemented. They would strike at the earliest convenience. Until then, it was business as usual. They would do their respective jobs during the day and at night, they would plan.
Just like every other morning, Ciel got ready for work and kissed his spouse "good-bye" before heading out. Just like every morning, Alois slept in until he realised he had actual work that he should be doing, keeping the supernatural towns running smoothly. Both were important, but only one involved copious amounts of yelling.
That's exactly what the Watchdog did first thing upon seeing his troops for the morning inspection. Cups were smashed and kits were scrutinised, but worse of all, Ciel still had to remind one or two of them to shower. Rather, he shouted at them and forced them to shower again.
"Don't you dare try to use warm water!" the bluenette shouted while the other recruits waited patiently for their comrades to finish up. "Warm water is for people who wash their disgusting pits and arse the first time!"
"But sir! It's October!" shivered poor Private Cooksey as he frantically scrubbed himself.
"Then you should really think about that next time!" Ciel barked out, showing no signs of sympathy. "All this time you've been here and I still have to remind you to wash yourself like you're some kind of child! Are you and infant, Private Cooksey?!"
"Sir, no, sir!" Everyone could hear just how cold Gordon was, but were powerless and uninspired to do anything about it. In their eyes, he did just as their officer said. He didn't take care of himself like a regular, responsible adult, so now he has to be forced to do as he is supposed to. After all, if no one showered in the barracks, all of them would pay for it by having to live there.
Once it was time to head out for breakfast, Gordon Cooksey and the other offending private, Timothy Maddigan, went back to the barracks and got dressed in as many layers as they were permitted to before joining the pack for the day's lecture. They were frozen, but had learned their lesson. Their noses, cheeks, and ears were red and they wanted to huddle for warmth, but didn't want the other's to question their persuasion. It was a relief that Sir Phantomhive didn't say anything when they walked into class wearing their coat over their jacket and a blanket wrapped around that.
"Today we will begin perhaps one of the most important sections in the entire course." Ciel began, picking up the dry erase marker and beginning to write. As he spoke, the group got excited for whatever was to come. If it was important, it was probably something very exciting, given the course. All of them had been very attentive during their lessons and it was hard not to be when one was training to become a soldier to fight against the paranormal. Once Ciel was done writing, he turned around to face them. "Today, we will be learning about… policy."
As he said the word, he pointed to it with his riding crop for emphasis, but the group was confused. They were expecting something exciting, but for once, they were sort of doubtful. Regardless, their instructor continued.
"This may not be killing monsters, but it's important if you want to stay in the job and keep getting paid." Ciel explained. "For example, if you are supposed to be receiving paychecks and you haven't received yours, then you need to know which office to call. If you need to see a doctor, you need to know how to check yourself into the medical ward. What if you need to report unjust treatment? You need to know who to call and how to handle that as well to avoid being the person that needs to be reported on. Even though you're fighting supernatural forces, this is still the real world and the real world has rules and regulations. Any questions?"
With that, Private Danlaw raised his hand, prompting the Phantomhive to call on him. "Yes, Danlaw?"
"If we get injured, aren't we already admitted to the medical ward?" Solomon questioned.
"Yes. In the case of an emergency, you will be brought in and treated immediately. However, you are also given access to free medical care by working at HELLSING for non-emergencies. If you need a refill on a prescription, for example, or have some symptoms that you're concerned about. It's just like seeing your regular doctor." the instructor informed. Spotting Private Bryce Withers' hand, in the air, he called on him as well. "Yes, Private Withers."
"Are there any other services that HELLSING offers, or is it just medical stuff?" the private asked.
"Yes. There is a free gym, free room and board, as well as other stuff, but the medical thing is a big deal to a lot of operatives. Your immediate family also has access to medical care, and HELLSING will assist operatives in getting an education as well as assisting their children. A lot of HELLSING children go to private schools for a minimal cost, if any."
"My kids are gonna have it so fucking good." Gordon chimed in while trying to cease his shivering. "Super healthy and super smart! This place fucking rocks!"
Turning around in his seat, Private Joseph Kidman reminded him. "You were just made to shower with freezing water in the middle October." Arching his brow, he asked: "How are you still positive?"
"After I'm out of boot camp, the only one to make me take cold showers is me." Cooksey replied.
"Yeah, you'll be the only one responsible for you smelling like rancid ass." said Bryce. "You won't have any kids at all if you make girls puke from your stink."
"True." Stated the instructor, finally stopping the conversation. "But I promise you, he will have running water, so there is no excuse."
The lecture carried on from there as Ciel gave them very specific instructions on how to set up an appointment to see a doctor and how to check in. He rightfully assumed that a few of them had never done so before on their own, so he saved them from having to ask their future team. They would be addressing some common health-related issues during a different lecture, but for now, it was just navigating bureaucracy.
"Always be polite to Human Resources." the Phantomhive warned in a rather serious fashion. "Chances are, if you're talking to them, you need something from them. Being rude to them will make them want to intentionally work slower to get it to you. And if the issue is time sensitive, that could be a problem for you."
"How can they do that to soldiers?" scoffed Private Henderson. "We're the ones who are gonna be out there risking our asses!"
"Most of them have already 'risked their ass', Private." Ciel said. "There is a good chance that it's the reason why they're at a desk. If you become injured on the job and can no longer perform it, HELLSING will train you for a new job so you can continue to support yourself, though honestly, you should be putting a bit of your paycheck into retirement from the start. A lot of HR workers here are former soldiers and you won't be impressing anyone by being rude to them. Most of your fellow agents will just think you're a prick."
"So you treat them with the same respect as a soldier." Private Danlaw nodded along. "Is it sort of like the respect operatives give toward The Wild Geese?"
"Somewhat, yes. Speaking of etiquette and The Wild Geese, don't ever try to pretend you're Wild Geese."Folding his arms, the Watchdog rolled his eye. "You're all way too young to be Wild Geese, and it will only make people think you're not only stupid, but also a prick. It's considered extremely disrespectful to wear the emblem of a group that you were never in and wearing the emblem of the Geese is more than disrespectful, given their history with the organisation. I'm saying this because there's always some dumb fresh meat that tries. It'll make life harder on you. Earning back the respect of your comrades will be tough after that."
Instilling manners in this bunch was going to be somewhat difficult. While on the subject of Human Resources, Ciel explained how to file a complaint and report discrimination and harassment. Explaining to them what qualifies as "harassment" was proving a bit difficult for Ciel, as a few of them just weren't getting it. Exasperated, the bluenette tried his best.
"If what you are doing is making people uncomfortable, it isn't your place to negotiate that discomfort." He stated while rubbing his temple. "There's no trying to convince someone why they shouldn't be uncomfortable. That's the end of it. If someone indicates that they don't like being spoken to or touched that way, then obviously, the thing to do is to stop doing that."
"But how do I know when they're uncomfortable?" questioned Private Cooksey. "It's hard to tell what women want!"
"No it isn't. Is she shying away? Is she physically closing herself off from you? Is she avoiding eye-contact? Is she avoiding you? Is she telling you 'Please speak to me in a professional fashion, only?' If so, she's not into it and you need to stop. Plain and simple."
"Yeah, my wife works in an office and there's this guy who gives her the creeps a lot." Private Choi chimed in. "He keeps standing in her cubicle and trying to talk to her while she's trying to work and ignores her when she says she says she's busy. He also keeps asking her to go get coffee with him sometime."
"Does he know she's married?" Gordon asked.
"Yes! I introduced myself as her husband at a holiday party! But he does it anyway." Jason said.
"Maybe your wife isn't telling you everything."
Narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow, Private Choi questioned: "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm just saying, it sounds to me like she could have been leading him on." the other private suggested with a shrug. "Maybe she's not telling the whole truth."
"My wife would never cheat on me." Jason hissed. It had been a while since he had last seen his spouse and child, so Mister Choi was already somewhat homesick. The last thing he needed was the seed of doubt being planted into his skull.
"Females are shallow, so who knows?"
"You shut your goddamn mouth." Standing up, Jason Choi pointed so that his finger was inches away from the other man's face. "I swear to God, I will punch you in it."
"Private Choi, if you're going to pummel Private Cooksey, please wait until after lecture." the Watchdog instructed, much to the astonishment of the others. They were certain that Jason was going to get in trouble for his outburst, but that wasn't the case.
"You're gonna let him beat me up!?" demanded Private Cooksey with wide eyes and fear on his face.
"It would be hypocritical of me if I did." Ciel stated. "If you said that about my spouse, I'd deck you, too. In the mean time, both of you will sit down so you and your comrades won't be stupid when you enter the workforce."
In a huff, Private Choi sat back down and tried his best to concentrate on the task at hand while Cooksey decided that it was perhaps in his best interest to to keep his mouth shut. After that, the lecture carried on without incident. Ciel still wasn't sure that they fully understood what sexual harassment was, although they could agree on other forms, much to Ciel's confusion. Even his best of students didn't seem all that convinced, although they tried their best to understand. It would appear that for some, they might end up having to learn the hard way. Hopefully, they would get a message from Human Resources instead of punched in the gut or stabbed.
While Ciel said that the lecture was supposedly mostly about policy, it was also about etiquette in equal parts. They would have to prove themselves to be trustworthy and they would have to get along with their team. There were unwritten rules as to how to behave as well as written ones that needed minded. There were also little things Ciel pointed out that would give them the air of knowing what on earth they were doing.
"We teach you to polish your boots and belt buckles in camp, but in the field, you don't want them shiny." he informed, much to their dismay. They had been polishing their shoes this entire time and now they were told that they shouldn't do that? It was completely unfair. "Teaching you how to do it is in the event that you need to. Maybe your sister is getting married and you don't want to look like a bum, who knows? In the field, however, being shiny can give away your location if any kind of light reflects off of it. You need to take care of your boots so that they don't fall apart, but you probably shouldn't bother with polishing them."
At another point, he explained how while dressing in a mix of uniform pieces was the norm at HELLSING, dressing like one is from an apocalyptic video game probably isn't wise. Not only is it impractical, it made them look silly to other soldiers. They also were informed that they shouldn't try to boast their masculinity too much or risk looking as though they were overcompensating for something. No one gives much of a care as to how many weapons they personally own, but not having skin that was devoid of any scars or at the very least, tattoos was considered to be cool. Most folks would back off if someone stood their ground and firmly insisted that they didn't want any, as not being a pushover was highly respected. There were just so many of these little things that sent a message to the others around them. For example, visibly carrying around a gas mask while possessing a full beard would make other soldiers question one's intelligence, as the beard would render the piece of equipment useless. The mask would not be able to form a seal around the face and gas would leak through. It was simply common sense.
"Don't worry about making mistakes, however." Ciel reassured while erasing some of what he wrote on the board. "Everyone here was new to all of this at one time and know that mistakes are bound to happen. Hopefully, your crew will point it out to you before your life is put at risk."
"And if they don't?" questioned Private Young while raising his hand.
"Survive." the bluenette stated. "Don't ever forget your training. Even after you leave here, your team will still train with you. You will still need to practise so that everything becomes second-nature. Kill your panic, but keep your fear."
"Why would we wanna do that?" Private Henderson questioned, ever skeptical of the Phantomhive. "Kill the fear, too!"
"Fear is what gives your your fight or flight response. It's also what warns you when something is dangerous so you don't recklessly do something stupid. Panic causes you to freeze, but fear keeps you alive. What a lot of amateurs and professionals alike get mistaken about fear is that it serves no purpose and should be squashed, but in reality, you need it. It's an essential emotion that acts as a sort of 'sixth sense' for human beings. Bravery isn't the absence of fear. It's the ability to keep going in spite of it. Anything else would be reckless stupidity. Kill your panic, not your fear."
But, Carl always knew best, so Ciel's words were ignored once again. The Phantomhive simply hadn't the slightest idea as to how to get through to Private Henderson, as any statement that wasn't confirming what he already thought was true was simply disregarded. He essentially tuned the man out until it was time to be dismissed for lunch.
While the talks weren't as interesting in the sense that it pertained to their shared hobby, the group did leave a little excited, still. It was sort of a peek into what their new lives would be like, so there was much to discuss. They just hoped that they would all be able to keep up.
"I'm kinda nervous." confessed Private Maddigan while setting his mug down. "There's just so much stuff to keep track of. A lot of it seems easy enough, but I didn't know about the boots thing."
"It'll be fine." reassured Joseph Kidman. "As long as we pay attention, everything will be okay."
"Keep telling yourself that, Kidman." scoffed Henderson from the other side of the table. "Only the toughest will get respected. Might need to kick a few asses to show how alpha you are and if you can't, you'll be just another beta cuck who gets everybody else stuff while they get all the glory!"
"I have no idea what you just said, but you do you, mate." Joseph said while raising his mug.
"It sounds rather calm in comparison regular war." Solomon chimed in. "My dad told me all kinds of stories that made the base sound like a madhouse."
"Yeah, you told us about the drugged cookies." Wallace said. "I think this place actually sounds kinda nice? It's like a little community of it's own… Have we just been indoctrinated into a cult?"
To that, the others simply shrugged and hoped for the best. It wasn't as though they could leave, even if they were. They couldn't leave if they weren't, either. They were too far in to turn back and none of them really wanted to in the first place. They liked it there. Even if they didn't always get along, or even get along at all, they were still sort of a tight-knit family, now. Few of them have ever felt like they belonged some place like they did in this camp and none of them wanted to let that go.
The group united under the same banner of HELLSING, but also wanted to have their own patch to display which squad they trained with to the other soldiers once they were fully integrated. The task was left up to the quiet and reserved Private Ryan Braumfeld, who could always design cool looking weapons and body armour, so they thought he should try his hand at logos. As they ate, he had his sketchpad out and was doodling.
"Ryan," Bryce finally called out to him. "You're gonna wanna eat before we have to go to our next little activity. What are you drawing, anyway?"
"Designs for our patch." Ryan replied, inching the sketchpad over to the other. On it were several complete and semi-complete designs for patches, as well as some loose doodles of symbols done before putting them together. "I can't get a solid one I like so far. Do we want a mascot, or just a symbol? We could always just go for a plain coat of arms if we wanted."
"Wanna talk about it with everybody?" his friend questioned. "We'd have to pass it around."
"It's okay. Go ahead. Just don't mess with my notes for class."
"Hey, guys!" Bryce called out, getting the attention of the others. "Ryan has a few ideas for the patch, but needs our input. Check it out."
He moved the sketchbook toward the center of the table so that the others could crowd around and see it. Ryan somewhat bashfully watched on while making an attempt to explain himself. "I heard that the boss' nickname is 'The Watchdog,' so I thought maybe a dog motif, but there's other stuff, too."
"I like the one with the zombi- I mean ghoul hand." said Private Young before pointing. "I also like the coat of arms right there."
"I really like the one with the demonic dog." added Kidman. Then, the scroll in the dog's teeth caught his attention. "Hey, isn't that what Sir Phantomhive said in class?"
"'Kill your panic, not your fear?'" read Braumfeld. "Yeah, I thought it sounded cool."
"Is that our motto, now?" asked Solomon.
"Yeah! It's our platoon motto!" Kidman agreed with a nod before turning back to Braumfeld. "You should put that as part of the design!"
"Noted." Ryan answered, taking the sketchbook for a moment so that he could jot that down. "'Kill your panic, not your fear..."
"Kill your panic, not your fear!" Wallace declared, raising his mug.
"Kill your panic, not your fear!" Kidman chimed in, raising his and clinking it together with the other Private's. This started something within the group that was going to be difficult to get back under control. They were all chanting the phrase in unison, now while Braumfeld furiously drew. Forks, knives, and fists were pounded on the table to the beat, and the dining hall was filled with the sounds of them getting overly enthusiastic. All the cafeteria workers could do was look on in confusion as they wondered just who exactly they should contact to report the situation.
It wasn't long until somebody came and sadly that somebody was the lads' commanding officer, like a storm. He marched up to the cafeteria and swung both doors open, scaring the recruits silly while followed by two other officers. With a scowl on this face, he called them to attention, forcing them to stand up regardless of what they were doing.
"What the devil is going on here?!" the Phantomhive demanded. "Why on earth are my recruits howling like a bunch of neanderthals who just discovered fire?!"
The men looked at each other, their eyes darting around the table in order to find someone who was willing to volunteer. Although startled, they were still coming down from having a good time, causing a few of them to have some difficulty holding in laughter that threatened to bubble up and get them killed. Bryce was the first to go, sputtering air out as he tried desperately against his body. Immediately after him came Clancy and Wallace in a chain.
"Withers, Peterson, and Young!" Shouted the bluenette before pointing. "Squat against the wall now!"
Silently, the trio covered their mouths and walked over to the wall their instructor indicated and did as they were told. The action had gotten easier now, given the frequency that they had to perform it, but it was only a matter of time before the pain started to sink in. With his riding crop, Ciel poked and prodded them in order to correct their stance for the maximum amount of agony before turning to the rest.
"I will ask again, why are you acting like animals?" he questioned, slowly pacing back and forth along the length of the table where they all sat. "Are you trying to embarrass me?"
"Sir, no sir!" the group answered, including those being actively punished.
"Then what bloody reason do you have to be banging on the tables and screaming?!" A few men jumped as Ciel himself pounded his fist on the table, shaking it. He carefully watched their eyes and followed them to Private Braumfeld. Their intention was to silently ask him for permission to rat him out, but it merely led the officer to him.
"Private Braumfeld." Ciel began, causing a few of the recruits to cringe. Braumfeld, however, continued to stare straight ahead.
"Yes, sir!" the private answered.
"Do you have an explanation?"
"Yes, I do, sir!"
"Let's hear it, then."
"I was showing the others my ideas for designs for the platoon patch, sir." Braumfeld replied. "I took a quote from the lecture and put it into the design and my platoon thought it would make a nice motto, sir."
Wordlessly, the Phantomhive looked down at the table and saw the sketchbook before reaching out with a gloved hand and picking it up. Not one breath was taken in as the demon skimmed through it, turning pages and looking at what had been drawn. As Ciel expected, there were weapon designs and blueprints for body armour. Then, just as suddenly as he picked it up, he shoved it back at Braumfeld, pressing it into his chest until the private grabbed it.
"Corporal Connelly, Corporal Gatts, take the rest of the troops out into the yard and punish them accordingly when lunch is over." Ciel instructed, earning a "Yes sir!" from both men. The lads would be in for a harsh time, despite not having their usual commander. Despite his limp, the tree-like Connelly was a force to be reckoned with, having been an active agent at HELLSING for ten years. The hulking Corporal Gatts, on the other hand, had been a soldier for most of his life and had a temper like none of them had ever seen.
"As for you, Private Braumfeld, I want to speak with you in my office." the Phantomhive continued before gesturing for the man to follow him. Up until this point, Cooksey simply accepted that he was going to be forced to run around the yard or carry large, heavy objects until he could no longer bear the strain, but now it was something totally different. He had never been inside of Ciel's office, but others had told him about it. They said it was plain and almost vacant, save for a picture on Ciel's desk. It was always facing away from them, so they never knew what was on it. But, even though he was scared, he followed the Watchdog without a peep.
It was a long walk to the Watchdog's office, but somehow they got there. It was exactly as described. No decoration except from a picture frame at just the right angle for guests to be unable to see what was in it. The private could see the other recruits pouring out into the yard followed by the two corporals from Ciel's window. He felt badly for them, but not as badly as he felt for himself. Taking a seat, the bluenette immediately got down to business.
"I highly suspect that it wasn't actually you who started the chanting." the Phantomhive said. After all of this time, he was bound to have at least a basic understanding of each recruits demeanor, and it simply didn't add up. Braumfeld was too quiet and preferred to keep a bit of a low profile. "So you're not actually in trouble about that. What I wanted to talk to you about was actually your weapon and armour designs. Do you build any of them?"
"Yes, sir, out of my garage." the private answered warily.
"Is it a hobby?"
"Yeah, I... can't exactly support myself on it."
"Did you know that HELLSING has a weapons department?" Ciel questioned. "There's two parts of the weapons department. There's the group that handles and issues weapons to other agents, and then there is the group that works closely with the research department in order to come up with new anti-freak gear. If you decide that you don't like being a soldier and have samples that you can bring in and show them, there is a job that you might have some qualifications for."
That was a somewhat exciting prospect. Braumfeld had never considered it to be a possibility. At least, not a lucrative one. He did worry, however, that if he did that instead, the others wouldn't respect him. After all of this hard work, it felt as though this might be "giving up," or at the very least considered so amongst his peers. Even if it wasn't, he wondered what the point of going through boot camp in the first place might have been.
"It feels like kind of a waste of training." Ryan confessed, looking down at his feet briefly. "You've been teaching me all of this stuff on how to fight, so it feels like it would be a waste of time if I didn't use it."
"That's a valid opinion." the Phantomhive nodded along, much to his underling's surprised. Ciel was a lot more flexible and understanding than people gave him credit for. Human lives were short, so spending a great deal of time getting ready for a job they won't ever have feels terrifying. "I won't try to sway you. What I'm saying is that this is a possible alternative if you go on a few missions and decide that you're not into being a soldier. I'm not saying that you're a terrible soldier because you are doing an excellent job. I'm not saying that I think that you don't have what it takes because I think you do. What I'm saying is that this is a potential backup plan if things don't work out the way all of us intends it to."
"Right." nodded the Private, a little more convinced. "So you don't think it's a waste?"
"Not at all." Ciel shook while leaning back in his chair. "First and foremost, you shouldn't feel required to do a job this strenuous just because you spent time in boot camp. Secondly, it can actually help you in this occupation. You will have at the very least basic knowledge on how soldiers do things, which is kind of useful, since you are making weapons for soldiers to use. Then there is the simple fact that all personnel, from the soldiers to the janitors, need to pass a course on how to use a gun. This is more than sufficient."
"I'll think about it..." Braumfeld felt a bit better about it now and about the future in general. He, like many of the others had worried about what they would do if they weren't meant to be soldiers or even if they were willing to put their life on the line in the first place. It was nice to have a bit of a safety net in place just in case.
"Don't feel pressured about it. Just do what you think is best for you, alright? I'll be going over the process during one of our lectures, but I wanted you to be aware that this particular department exists." Standing up, the bluenette added: "We should get back out there. Connelly and Gatts are probably murdering the others."
"Sounds good, sir." the Private replied, standing up as well. His commanding officer held out a hand for him to shake.
"Good man." Ciel said. "Let's go."
A/N: I don't know what else to write about here so here you go uwu
Man, that's such an "author's note" thing to say... It's been a while since I've actually read fanfiction?
Throwback!
I actually have designs for all of the lads now except for Henderson, but I feel odd about posting them this late in the game. Like, all of y'all probably have an idea of what these people look like in your head already? If you see drawings of them, you might feel compelled to try and force the image, and that's never fun... Maybe after the arc is over? Who knows... Tell me what you think about that.
Also, I got a question:
"How And When Did Ciel And Sebastion Meet Alucard?,(Is He Still Alive As Well?),And What Was The Conversation That Followed Or They Had? I Imagine Ciel Going Something Along The Lines Of 'I Would Very Much Appreciate It If I Never Had To Look At That 'Thing' Again' After He Left And Alucard Cackling Soon After" by Inferno-Sama35678902
Basically how it went. They met around the same time that they met Walter C. Dornez and Arthur Hellsing when they returned to London. So somewhere around the 1940s. What Alucard is up to currently is actually a spoiler for Hellsing Ultimate, (Alternatively, type "Hellsing OVA" into youtube and you should be able to find it somehow)so I recommend that you watch that series or read the Hellsing manga in order to know their whole deal.
I wonder if people actually watch Hellsing like "ah, yes, a DLTD prequel." That must be a really strange expeirience... By the way, I didn't make Hellsing up, it's from a series that I told myself I wasn't gonna cross over into this one, but did anyway. A lot of you might have known that, but some of you might not.
The more you know~
So you'd get Seras' origin story, who The Wild Geese are, "The Millennium Incident," how Integra got her eyepatch, and about that son of Elizabeth's that everyone feels uncomfortable talking about. And much, much, more~!
God, I need to rewatch Hellsing... I love it so much... I crave that supernatural bullshit...
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
