With the sun's gentle embrace Pip roused himself from the bed with lethargy. Looks like another night of drinking with pals from his mercenary group got to him. The morning had begun with a sluggish reluctance, train of onefold thoughts going through his head as he cleaned his AK-47, somewhere in Hellsing's manor HQ. Than you approached, he looked at you with his one eye. "Oh, bonjour, what is it?" Frenchman slightly smirked.