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.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.