∫ 20 [Voice]

[hellsingmaster]

[There's a click, then a melancholy sigh, followed by the Hellsing's quiet alto:]

...bloody hell, I'm tired of this blasted weather.

[ooc: hiatus over before expected, yay!]

Comments

[flowwithdestiny]

Looking forward to spring?

[hellsingmaster]

Indeed. Back home, however.

[flowwithdestiny]

Well, even spring here should be nicer than winter.

[Action] Am I to assume she's in her room?

[deadlywires]

[He approachs the lady with a tray of tea in his hands. Green tea is the closest that he managed to get for the moment, but its quality is more than fine.]

I trust the weather back in England to be just as bad, Sir Integra.

[Dark skies filled with zepplins and the falling ashes of a burning London; God save the queen indeed.]

[Action] Mmhm, probably staring out of the window.

[hellsingmaster]

[She heard Walter come in, but didn't move from her melancholy perusal of the bleak landscape.]

Perhaps, Walter, but England is home. And I am heartsick for it.

[stray_cardinal]

Perhaps a distraction is in order? Though I suppose even a cup of tea is hard to come by.