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Hey Walter, what was Integra's favorite type of tea as a child?
"I do believe it depended on the time of day. Â At night she was rather fond of sweeter teas and in the morning the more bitter ones to wake her. Â Either way, she does quite like Ceylon Teas. Â Unless her mood has abruptly shifted."
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A Gift from a little Heiress
littleheadofhellsing:
A wooden tray of freshly brewed tea is in his office, along with a rather simple meal that those without culinary experience can master. A note in neat handwriting is placed alongside it.
My dear friend.
I hope this is sufficient for you, as a token of gratitude for everything you have done for me, all these years. I made one of your favorites, although I bet yours does, and always will, taste better. I learned a phrase from a friend the other day, and I'll use it to finish this letter.
Bon Appetit!
-Integral
It had been a long day, much like any other he supposed, but seemed longer than most. Â His fingers practically dug grooves into the desk as he set things down over it. Â That is, until he noticed the tea, head tilting curiously. Â As he picked up the note, a smile spread over his face, fond and kind as could be.
It obviously hadn't been long, if the steam was anything to go by. Â He still set about setting aside the things he'd had to use. Â Unfortunately for him, their lack of experienced trash men had called him to a job. Â Not too difficult, of course, but the soldiers had gotten in his way.
As he took a sip, he considered how to thank Integra for this. Â "Ah. Â Just a slight bit too sweet. Â Perfect for today then." Â Yes, now he had to go seek her out and invite her to a snack with him or something. Â Yes, that could work. Â Some cakes. Â And so, he set off to find her after settling the tea onto a hot plate.
With a muffled squeak from the hand over her mouth (her other hand gripping tightly onto his arm) she scampers inside, body pressing close and eyes closing tightly from the sound. /Rain, rain go away, send this bloody storm away/. "I-I'm sorry to bother you so late...but...y-you know..." She gets out, panting from her running and finally opening her eyes after a bit, taking in the blur of his room and his own person.
A soft smile, one solely reserved for the little miss, spread across his face. Â How silly she could be, thinking she was bothering him. Â How silly and how... well. Â Odd. Â Maybe he needed to reassure her some more? Â "It's never a bother, Miss Integra, it's my pleasure to be here to assist you whenever you should come to need me." Â Walter held out a hand, waiting for her to actually want to be carried before he did.
"I'd merely lead you if it weren't for the massive clutter in my room."
A storm rumbles loudly on the outside of the manor, occasionally making its walls and floors tremble with its noise. Slippered feet shuffle quietly on the floor, hands out so she doesn't trip on anything. In her fright from the thunder she's not wearing her glasses, so tripping and ending up hitting the butlers' bedroom door with a 'thump' is definite, if not immediately after a particularly loud rumble sends her running that way in the first place.
A sigh, fingers clenching in the sheets. Â He hated thunder. Â He didn't fear it, no, that would be stupid, but it unsettled him. Â It always seemed to thunder and flash lightning when something bad was coming. Â A 'thump' told him someone was outside. Â A head tilt, eyes blinking curiously, he considered it. Â Ah, thunder, it was obviously...
"Hello, Miss Integra, come along now," was all he said as he opened the door to reveal his boss' daughter. Â He should have waited outside her room for the inevitable scenario, he really should have, but he had been tired. Â Instead he smiled at the little miss, helping her up and motioning her inside even as another rumble came. Â The halls really just amplified it, made it worse.
If there was another version of you and they were willing would you take the opportunity to literally fuck yourself?
*extremely long and drawn out sigh*  "I'm a butler that runs a household, I don't take the opportunity to have sex with anyone.  I'm far too busy."
"You're jokin' right? Â Please, tell me you are. Â Stay out of my business. Â But no, no I wouldn't."
*intense glowering coupled with several odd subvocal noises of disapproval* Â "Kindly fuck off."
[[ Â You're asking everyone this aren't you? Â For various reasons, they wouldn't. Â Just... trust me on that. Â ]]
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Jennifer folds her hands before her, waiting for the man to be comfortable. "Anything else you need, Mister Dornez?"
As Walter settled into his bed, eyes closing in his nauseous state. Â "There's some medicine in the bathroom. Â If you'd be so kind."
She nods, helping the man inside once they reached his room.
A genuine smile spread over Walter's face. Â Not because he was happy but rather because he found the room and therefore his bed. Â "Thank you for the," a pause for a coughing fit and a clenching of his gut, "help."
Jennifer nods, walking with the man. "Will you require anything once you are settled in? Tea, perhaps?"
"I..." Â A sick bag? Â A sick bag sounded lovely. Â Or maybe even a trash bin. Â "I'll let you know."
