multiversallogs | (no subject)

Who: Solomon Koenig and Audry, a House Ecu representative.
What: A polite conversation about terrorists. Over tea.
Where: A community youth centre run by the House Ecu.
When: Newdi afternoon.
Notes: When he's not directly handling legal affairs for Hellsing (or carrying out assassinations on Sir Hellsing's orders), Sol finds time to be doing a lot of the boring legwork and research involved in the Candlelighters open investigation.
Warnings: None presently.

Solomon Koenig's involvement in this case dates back months, now, and the neat notes in folders kept under lock in his office at the guild hall reflect as much. When it became clear that the paper trail for the known Candlelighters he'd managed to connect to the houses (Mariam Eads, Abidan Biskup, Esdras Zabat and Lydia Cadwallader) had gone cold, he'd reconsidered his focus on just the four of them and began, instead, working backwards. Habits, connections - their communities, their cohorts, where they bought their fucking groceries.

He's known from the beginning some of where it would lead him, but Hellsing treads carefully around the House Ecumenal and he didn't go directly. It's inevitable, though, and going about it in the right way could be a valuable opportunity - which is why he calls ahead, schedules an appointment, and arranges to meet with a 'public relations attache', Audry, at one of their community centres. He's precisely on time, and wryly aware of at least some of what he can expect; interviewing neighbours had involved many cups of tea.

(And many cigarettes, afterwards.)

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"Not a bad idea," he says, with an engaging smile, sliding the card across the table - helpfully answering her unasked question: the card declares him to be Solomon Koenig, Hellsing's Head of Legal (the department is, admittedly, basically 'Sol and his aides' at this point). It lists the hours he can be found in the office, his CiD number and the CiD number of his primary assistant. "But I'll let reception know I'm expecting to hear from you and you shouldn't have trouble catching me."

Gosh, legal matters? In Baedal? That's certainly something. Precious maybe. Audry can't decide, and allows a brief really? to surface in her otherwise schooled expression. It's not that she questions the truthfulness of this paper here so much as the idea that anyone would want to push that particular rock up the hill on purpose. She may have some bias, who knows.

"Very good, thank you," she says, smoothing her face back to a neutral default getting caught up in that engaging smile. Her fingers flex. It's an absent minded sort of gesture. "I shouldn't need more than two days. Four at the out most." See, they are totally going to give this priority. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Under the circumstances, it's probably not surprising that he's taking cases that aren't strictly legal in nature. (But let him tell you about the time he had to, in his own words, 'pull a rabbit out of my own ass' with the legal system at this branch of Hellsing's previous set up. That was fun.) Nevertheless, there's a hint of dryness in his expression in answer- a bit of very educated self-mockery as his smile sharpens slightly and he cocks an eyebrow in acknowledgement. Yes, he really is a lawyer, yes, he really is delving into the complex headache of trying to make sure Hellsing's in compliance with local laws as much as possible. He's never been one to do things the easy way.

(One might think he might find something about this contradictory, given what else he does for them, but legal right and ethical right aren't always the same- neither are legal and ethical wrongs. He's well-acquainted with that not insignificant detail.)

"I'll leave these pictures here with you," he says, instead, tapping one of them with his fingertips. "They're named and dated on the back. If you could show these around, see if anyone remembers them, anything- I'd like to hear about it."

If only she knew, and this was the venue for it, Audry may be moved to offer her kindest good luck wishes. Possibly while laughing, but that is neither here nor there. Her attention shifts back to the photographs.

"I'll see what I can do," she says, and she will, just listen to her, voice making that non-committal statement sound like a promise. At least she's in a position to know who to ask and how to approach them. Besides, sticking Biskup's picture under the noses of certain House officials will be its own reward. "Anything else you need, while we're here?"

"The Princess gives me a filthy look when I start interrogating people I'm not meant to, reminds me of my mother," he says, managing to make it charming; his smart mouth is presumably why he's heading the legal department and not being shunted into Nuala's political pursuits. "So in the interests of keeping me in her good books, I think we can leave it there and I'll catch you in Sobek Croix this week coming?"

He could've just said 'I think that'll do for now', but that wouldn't have been as much fun, not with a sense of humour that tends towards the dryly self-skewering.

Audry frankly does not care one way or the other, though her friendly smile stays a little longer than perhaps it should, were it a strictly genuine article. Maybe it's something he said.

"Absolutely. Will you want these returned?" She's talking about the pictures, as indicated by a hand that seems to really wish it was holding on to another cigarette right about now.

"No, that's fine. They're copies." Sol has the originals, because he's very, very good at his job; he's been working on actually dragging one of these people back to Integra in his teeth (...mostly figuratively speaking), but he's not the only one using magic and he's been stymied on that front more than he'd like. At least he's not stuck with only one avenue of investigation at any given time. "Thanks for meeting with me, Audry. Take care."

Of course he does. Aurdy's just making a point about being service minded and straying away from words like interrogation. Her head-tresses - after some time of remaining perfectly still - slowly begin to uncoil. "Not a problem, Solomon Koenig, it's what I'm here for. If you think of anything else, I trust you'll let me know."

Me not us. Well. Maybe she's a little charmed, after all.

Religious organizations put him automatically on the wrong foot - especially ones like this, so uncomfortably reminiscent of his own (good, healthy, fulfilling) early life - and though he covers it well, that's where the impulse to push a joke of quite that nature comes from. Go there first, defuse his own discomfort, hopefully keep it on an easy enough footing that it stays easy. Sometimes he misses his mark, a little. It happens to the best of us.

"I'll do that," he says, running a hand back over his hair before he collects up his satchel and, since decent tea shouldn't be wasted, finishes that quickly. "If you need anything through Hellsing, too, you've got my number."

He'll be lighting up again before he's all the way down the street away from the centre. Holy Smokes are easily one of the best ideas the guild has had.