Armstrong in…… Hellsing!
“Oi… Um, Walter-san?”
“Mmm?” The Hellsing Organization’s butler/retired assassin glanced up from the day’s schedules, one eyebrow rising. “Yes, Seras?”
“Would you happen to know why Master’s lying on the floor in the hallway? He’s scaring the new trainees…”
Walter kept flipping through his pages. “He *always* scares the new trainees; I believe he said something to the effect of it being a ‘valuable part of their initiation,’ though personally I just think that the bastard likes watching them widdle their uniforms.”
“Ummm… you’re probably right about that. But he’s, well, he’s……. acting… funny…” The young vampire looked understandably nervous; the usually dark, brooding-in-a-somewhat-crazed-fashion Alucard had been sprawled across the tiles, giggling and mumbling “Oooh, the colors, the colors—“ while occasionally growing new eyes and limbs here and there. It had been rather unnerving.
Well, okay; more unnerving than usual, which was saying quite a lot.
“Mmph.” Walter gave the list a final dissatisfied once-over, monocle flashing in disapproval. “WHY do the higher-ups bother to schedule things at all if they’re going to bloody well change everything at the last minute?” He sighed. “Eh. As for Alucard, I suppose his condition might have something to do with the newest recruit…”
“Huh?” Seras’ head was beginning to hurt; maybe that batch of hospital blood she had drank the night before had been past its due-date. It *had* tasted a bit wonky—
“Over there.” Walter indicated the hulking figure who stood peering down at the master vampire’s twitches from a nearby doorway. “An import from Germany, I understand; something Alucard perpetrated on vacation last week, if the rumors are to be believed…”
“Uh oh.” The former policewoman had a distinct sinking feeling. “Oh no… Walter-san, *please* don’t tell me he got drunk again and—“
“I’m afraid so.”
“Oh, bloody HELL...”
Seras flinched back as the large, red-eyed figure strode forward; bald head gleaming in the overhead lights, the enormous man saluted. “At last! I have been looking forward to meeting you, Seras Victoria-san!” A blond moustache bristled above fledgling fangs as the newest member of Hellsing’s Very Peculiars bowed. “There is so MUCH I must learn from you and our master about my new state!” Blood-red sparkles seemed to glitter in the air around the new vampire as he straightened, muscles straining against his uniform’s fabric; there was a brief rending sound.
“And I am eager to put my own talents to work for my new employer!” A ham-sized hand closed on her shoulder, and Seras found herself being steered out the door and towards the nearby practice-range. “Let me show you the Armstrong Family Technique of Precision Aiming, passed down through my forbearers for generations! I understand that with our improved senses we can hit targets as much as a mile away—“
“Oh, bloody Hell—“
They stepped over the supine, red-coated figure on the floor; it giggled, black hair falling over its eyes as it grew a fourteenth (or was it fifteenth?) eye smack in the middle of its chest. “…so pink…….. oooh…… tasty…..”
“Walter? Walter-san? Help?”
The butler was already accelerating down the hall. “Sorry, Seras, you’re on your own with this one— I’ll, ah, go see about detox treatments for Alucard….. I’m sure I have the number for the Betty Ford clinic somewhere—“
Behind Ceres’ shrinking form, Armstrong beamed happily. This was going to be fun.
Heh heh heh...... see what sleep-deprivation and stress will do to a person?