Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sir_hellsing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-02-07 03:54 pm
sir_hellsing) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-02-07 03:54 pm
Entry tags:
[ order 8 ]
[ Home - Midday ]
[After hovering uncomfortably close to death for much of the past week, confined to bed in misery, Integra awoke feeling warm and alert. Her skin has lost its ashen appearance, warm tan once more and bearing no signs of the surgery she'd been put through. She stumbles over the hound on the way to the bathroom, lifting her shirt (Giles's, actually) to the mirror once there to stare at herself. Integra does a turn. Not a mark.
Flooded with relief, she's spent her morning making the most of it, showering and putting things to right throughout the house with ruthless efficiency. It's only until close to lunch that she emerges to check the mail, comfortably dressed in a coat, black cigarette pants and a fitted indigo jumper, acquiescing to the town's wardrobe options since everything else is in the wash.
The black, 2000 Mercedes sedan parked in the drive affords her a head turn.]
Yes! [She throws her fist into the air, triumphant. Today is going better than expected.]
[ Mayfield - On the road - Afternoon ]
[Integra's left for a drive now that she has the car. Baskerville sits in the passenger seat to her left, all eight eyes squinting against the wind and his pink tongue lolling out of his wide mouth. She's all for following traffic laws, at least until she's near the end of town at the entrance to the highway. After that the road is hers for the taking.]
[After hovering uncomfortably close to death for much of the past week, confined to bed in misery, Integra awoke feeling warm and alert. Her skin has lost its ashen appearance, warm tan once more and bearing no signs of the surgery she'd been put through. She stumbles over the hound on the way to the bathroom, lifting her shirt (Giles's, actually) to the mirror once there to stare at herself. Integra does a turn. Not a mark.
Flooded with relief, she's spent her morning making the most of it, showering and putting things to right throughout the house with ruthless efficiency. It's only until close to lunch that she emerges to check the mail, comfortably dressed in a coat, black cigarette pants and a fitted indigo jumper, acquiescing to the town's wardrobe options since everything else is in the wash.
The black, 2000 Mercedes sedan parked in the drive affords her a head turn.]
Yes! [She throws her fist into the air, triumphant. Today is going better than expected.]
[ Mayfield - On the road - Afternoon ]
[Integra's left for a drive now that she has the car. Baskerville sits in the passenger seat to her left, all eight eyes squinting against the wind and his pink tongue lolling out of his wide mouth. She's all for following traffic laws, at least until she's near the end of town at the entrance to the highway. After that the road is hers for the taking.]