• • ABOUT • •

[Atlas Caedmon]

Most people loved to get something in the mail; at least that’s what Atlas had always been told. In school children had waited in anticipation every morning to see if their parents might have sent them something that day and even his grandmother awaited the arrival of his grandparents Muggle postman everyday, hoping for something. Atlas had never really understood the appeal. Sure there were the occasional cards from distant relatives, and he always found the Christmas letters and cards that arrived around the Holidays highly amusing but beyond that, very little good ever came out of the post box.

Take the letter that had arrived by owl that morning. It wasn’t entirely clear to Atlas how level 2 would have obtained the information that he was staying with Jasper but he could guess. Either it had been Will, or their secret and elaborate spy network no other options remained. He’d left the letter marked in garish shining red ink as ‘OFFICIAL SUMMONS: MINISTRY OF MAGIC LEVEL 2’ sitting on Jasper’s kitchen table for a good few hours. Hours he spent trying to find food that wasn’t a potions ingredient or the materials for making martinis and then eating it and then reassembling Rudolph after his last disastrous expedition up the stairs to wake Jasper before noon.

With those tasks done there had been little else to do he had eventually resigned himself to opening the thing and carefully reading it over in an attempt to determine just what this summons might entail. After reading it carefully a few times he’d tucked the summons into a pocket and went in search of his coat.

Fifteen minutes of searching and struggling later he jotted a quick note for Jasper, ‘Off to the Ministry…possibly being arrested. Would appreciate you putting together bail money just in case.’. That accomplished and cane firmly in hand Atlas made a slow trek to the nearest Ministry entrance point.

After a quick word with the secretary he discovered that he would be speaking to none other than the new head of Aurors…Sophia Robards. Wonderful, great…possibly. Her office was easy enough to find, labeled with nice gold lettering as it was and when Atlas knocked he received a neutral sounding ‘enter’ from within. Not wanting to cause any annoyance Atlas obeyed, letting himself into the office and approaching the desk slowly. He carefully extracted the summons and offered it to Sophia, “Do you recycle these?”

[Sofia Robards]

Sofia was now well versed with the abnormal, heck her family had been drawn to it and she wasn’t exactly what one would call normal. You had to be abnormal to become one of the youngest department heads in history, that was a fact. She was devoted to her job and had to prove it further. Nothing was ever enough, now her father was constantly judging her actions against what he would have done when he held the position. And now, now she had a case that seemed to have Will… the Minister in a thrall. He was constantly asking for updates, citing it to be of national importance.

From what she could tell it was a well coordinated hate crime and until it another one followed there was little she could do but investigate the rubble for any hint as to who the attackers could have been. Yet in was in the rubble she and others had come across a world of problems, none of them seeming to bare any relevance to terrorist or hate crimes. The things they were uncovering were just plain weird. When a walking talking death proclaiming skeleton wasn’t trying to make off with evidence her team was finding the suggestion of a whirlwind of illegal objects and activity. Even she had been able to identify some of the objects – twisted muggle firearms and what looked suspiciously like the biding of the limited edition of book published by her great uncle to name a few.

On her desk now sat seven objects, all chosen to act as a reminder. Atlas Caedmon was not a normal man and wasn’t to be underestimated. Hell he might have information that could lead to her having to cover for a family member again. It wouldn’t be the first time a Robards had been brought in for threatening the life of a mudblood - happened more often that she ever wanted to admit to. In fact if she recall things correctly she had been talking to Atlas just after she had broken Wendell out of jail… could there be a connection? Had anyone found out? Impossible but not unlikely. According to reports there had been some complaints concerning a habit of going through other people’s garbage.

As things stood if Atlas hadn’t just been released from the hospital she would have listened to her gut and interrogated him in normal Robards fashion, with the recording charms hearing what they wanted to hear while she determined how much damage control she would need to conduct and inflict. However Will seemed to think that as head she should resort to less hostile meetings with the lead witness in the case, his views on her interrogating techniques being a bit on the jaded side.

So she had had a secretary send a polite letter requesting his presence and had gone so far as to order a full tea. The latter was more for her own comfort than anything else. She hadn’t slept in two days and was daydreaming dancing cupcakes and shepherds pies. All to come once she finished up for the day. Midway through a cup of tea laced with an energy potion there was a knock. Must be one of the new girls claiming that Mr. Caedmon had declined to appear. “Enter.” she called from around her tea.

The door opened and in slipped non other than the cane wielding Atlas. A pleasant surprise to be sure. She had expected him to put up a bit more of a resistance from what Will had mentioned… and his case files. And that cane… well it had gotten past security so she was going to assume no weapons were hidden inside, though seeing as she had found a rather odd assortment of what looked like the remains of concealed weapons within the ashes she couldn’t be sure.

“Do you recycle these?”

Sofia blinked at the offered summons before taking them. “No, but I imagine I can make good use of it. Do sit down Mr. Caedmon.” More of an order than a request but quite frankly the man had a cane and he was bound to sit down sometime. “Might I thank you for such a prompt response to our summons? I just had a couple questions for you concerning your attack... and these.” She gave the objects sitting on her desk a pointed look. “Which would you like to start with?”

[Atlas Caedmon]

Sofia Robards peeked at him over the rim of her tea cup, which was held at the perfect angle, pinkie extended perfectly, the picture of straight backed authority. For a moment she looked past him rather at him and when her eyes did turn to take him there was a brief moment where her face slipped into the slightest look of surprise. He hadn't been expected then, well not shocking if his past dealings with the Ministry were any example. it wasn't often that he received summons anymore, he was more careful, less flashy and in general hadn't been involved in as many things to draw Ministry attention since turning 23 and establishing the SHOP. When he did receive summons he was usually in the habit of allowing them to marinate in the post box. It would be checked on now and then but only to see if new summons had joined it in its cast iron prison. Somewhere between the fourth and seventh he would grace the proper department with his presence but in this case things had seemed to be a bit more pertinent in terms of needed his attention.

The new department head seemed to have overcome her shock at his presence and had moved on to sizing him up. Her eyes lingered on the cane and Atlas shifted a bit under the scrutiny. She couldn't possibly see him as any kind of threat. If the cane hadn't tipped her off the way he moved like a matinee in labor could have been another hint, the fact that he still hadn't replaced his wand was another severe handicap that fell in her favor. This was all implying that she anticipated some sort of fight, which seemed a tad on the side of paranoid even to Atlas.

In an attempt to dispel the mood and prevent her from making any other strategic assessments on how to take down a gimp, Atlas offered the summons and listened to the reply.

No, but I imagine I can make good use of it. Do sit down Mr. Caedmon. Her tone didn't imply that it was an offer he was meant to do anything but accept. Secretly though he was glad for the offer standing was proving a great deal more tiring than it ever used to. Might I thank you for such a prompt response to our summons? He nodded with mild hesitation and then leaned forward to glance at the contents lying haphazardly on her desk. This might not be so good. just had a couple questions for you concerning your attack... and these. Which would you like to start with?

Atlas exhaled slowly before leaning over in his seat and picking at one or two of the items, no doubt collected in the investigation into the explosion. Some of the more illegal items in the place had been set with degration spells that, once enough damage had been done to the place would cause them to fall apart or be transfigured into less hazardous and more homely looking objects, but some of them hadn't gotten the same treatment.

"We should probably begin with the contents of your desktop Miss Robards, seeing as that one," he indicated the object to her far right which looked like a pan pipe mounted on top of a bottle of super hold hair spray. "Seeing as that is a highly unstable reality compartmentalizer that could take out at least half the wing of the department. Her name is Sybil." Reaching forward he plucked up another one of items, a yoyo, examining it. "And i don't even remember what horrible thing this might be able to do to." Setting it back down he chose to pointedly ignore the more incriminating items.

"Did you find any Lobsters running around?"

[Sofia Robards]

Sybil? Compartmentalizer? This one sounded as mad as the creature Artemis called brother – only instead of accessories and shine he had… things of mass destruction. Maybe there was something to the claim that purebloods had all gone insane but the specimen in front of her seemed to be proving that the same problem was happening amongst the lesser bloods as well. With that logic it was all a matter of time till the saner side died at the hands of the crazies.

Atlas reached for one of his objects of questionable uses. ” And i don't even remember what horrible thing this might be able to do to."

She must be going mad from all the stress and that’s why all the nutters were able to find her! Things were beginning to make perfect sense. That would explain why she felt like giving into the madness and laugh at the absurdity of it all. Why she could now converse with Apollo and not get to terribly muddled, and how all the criminals with Auror fetishes were able to find her. Though now was not the time nor place to revel in such a realization.

“I’m sure these object will behave themselves till after I’ve finished my tea. They’ve managed remarkably well thus far.” She remarked lightly, giving the circular object with what looked to be the charred remains of common string a disapproving glance.

Atlas took that comment to mean she was ready to change topics and began asking about the bloody lobsters. Between them and the death declaring bones she had been at her wits end trying to organize that crime scene. Any time they came across an object with the slightest bit of shine lobster like creatures would emerge out of no were and snatch away the vital evidence. They would go to chase away the skeleton and a herd of them would morph and attack. Worst yet there seemed to be no killing the things.

With no other ideas and having broken several fingers due to a battle of wills Sofia had gone to Artemis and asked her to take a look at the problem figuring that the Sinistras knew Atlas better than her case files did. Of all things Artemis sent her halfwit brother down dressed like Robin Hood and baring several large bags of what looked like glitter. Moments later he was the Pied Piper dancing into the sunset and scattering glitter as a mass of lobsters followed him out of her crime scene… it had been one of the oddest moments she had ever witnessed.

“I wouldn’t worry about your lobsters. Mr. Sinistra came down and they seemed to take a fancy to him… or his glitter. I still don’t quite understand what happened. But they are no longer making off with your possessions – or my staff’s lunches.” She replied, refusing to reveal how confused she had been by the whole ordeal, or how she had promised Apollo a shopping trip if he would only let her eat one. For some reason he had rejected her offer. Pity. She had so wanted to hear one scream as she boiled it.

“Back to the matter at hand. Would you mind deactivating Sybil and whatever else might suddenly explode during their stay on my desk?” She gestured towards the pile, her hand hovering over what looked like a rather misshapen machine gun. “And please explain what that is doing here. They are not even legal for most muggles to own to my knowledge.”

[Atlas Caedmon]

I’m sure these object will behave themselves till after I’ve finished my tea. They’ve managed remarkably well thus far.

This, along with a look that had to have been learned from some ancient grandmother and then diligently practiced in front of a mirror for maximum effect, was directed at said objects rather than at Atlas himself. As if in response the yoyo, which he had placed upon back upon the desk after giving it a good once over, rolled an inch or two then fell flat onto the surface with a thunk. Sofia increased the power of her gaze before taking another demure sip of her tea. The contraband seemed to have been sufficiently intimidated because none of it was moving.

Of course, as soon as that tea cup was empty Atlas wouldn't make any bets about their continued complacency. The mention of the lobsters elicited first, a tightening of the fingers around the fragile, delicate handle of the tea cup, and then a narrowing of the eyes that made Atlas positively elated. If she looked so perturbed about the mere mention then she had to know exactly what he was talking about. They had survived! They had always been a highly resilient bunch.

When they had first taken up residence Atlas had tried everything short of gassing them to make them depart. He wouldn't have really minded all that much except for the fact that every time they came in late they set off the motion lights, which had never failed to interrupt Atlas' sleep. Their presence had also made it impossible for him to keep any tin foil in the house ever. Once it was set out it was mere seconds before they had absconded with it. Eventually though they had come to a sort of truce, though Atlas could never say how that had happened, and since then they had cohabited with little major conflict.

While in the hospital he had wondered if an explosion might have tested even their ability for survival against all odds. Apparently they couldn't even be cleansed by fire. Sofia looked slightly less than thrilled at their survivability.

I wouldn’t worry about your lobsters. Mr. Sinistra came down and they seemed to take a fancy to him… or his glitter. I still don’t quite understand what happened. But they are no longer making off with your possessions – or my staff’s lunches.

"Tin foil? It never fails to draw their attention. They also seem father fond of cheese for some reason. I've been meaning to find some more time to study them but I've found myself to be rather busy of late....." His brain has caught up with the rest of what Sofia had said. "Mr. Sinistra? You mean Apollo, yes? Not Zippy? They seem to worship him as if he were a god, its all the glitter. I sometimes worry that their obsession might be reaching a point where I need to intercede." Rambling...right stay on task. In the mean time he carefully began thinking out just what might be needed to be done in order to retrieve the Lobsters...before they had the chance to drive Artemis to one of her rages, or before Apollo became too attached to them. It was a matter for a different time. For now he could feel relief that they hadn't been further victims of the attack and further happiness in that they were housed and likely couldn't be happier.

Back to the matter at hand. Would you mind deactivating Sybil and whatever else might suddenly explode during their stay on my desk? And please explain what that is doing here. They are not even legal for most muggles to own to my knowledge.

Sighing, he lifted Sybil carefully from her perch and held the pan pipe portion to his lips. Once he was satisfied that it was in the proper position he carefully blew into the instrument. Carefully he played out the tune to the Andrew Sisters, Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen, and upon completion set it back down. "That should have that one sorted, just don't go about singing Iko Iko anytime soon, could tear a hole right in time space."

Now he looked at the weapon lying twisted and tinged with soot and damaged iron on the aurors desk. "Not in some countries......." Clearly his throat he sat back and jerked his chin in the weapons direction. "Its not a fully automatic either, the ammo chamber is made a film reel, which you can see if you take a closer look. Barrel is an old organ pipe charmed down to a more reasonable size. Its an antique custom made, some would look at it as an art piece. Film reel is from Cinema Paradiso, have you ever seen it? Its masterful."

[Sofia Robards]

"Mr. Sinistra? You mean Apollo, yes? Not Zippy? They seem to worship him as if he were a god, its all the glitter. I sometimes worry that their obsession might be reaching a point where I need to intercede."

Oh God there were more Sinistras? As in another one that the mention of lobsters taking a fondness to also came to mind? That slight bit of information was actually rather terrifying. Maybe she could get Wil… the new Minister of Magic to place a ban on Apollo Sinistra being able to produce offspring, for the safety of the rest of wizarding kind.

“Yes, Apollo. The one who thinks he is a god… or do all of them? Please don’t answer that. Just deal with… Sybil.”

With a sigh Atlas began the process of deactivating the weapon, which was looking more and more like a set of pan pipes by the minute. Surely they weren’t – but the man was playing them. "That should have that one sorted, just don't go about singing Iko Iko anytime soon, could tear a hole right in time space."

Iko Iko? A speculative eyebrow went up as the impulse to proclaim an sudden love for whatever it was squelched. She needed to stay on his good side. He likely wouldn’t appreciate that sort of humor and quite frankly it was unprofessional to joke about life or death things... especially when she didn’t have a clue as to what she was proclaiming to like.

"Not in some countries......."

“Let me make an amendment. Firearms of this nature are not allowed to be owned by civilian citizens of the United Kingdom. However…” Sofia trailed off, her knowledge of muggle weapons being a point of embarrassment for her mother – though a subject of great fascination for herself. Really it was amazing how many ways there were to kill a person without magic. She had made a point to become proficient with at least seven different forms, one never knew when they were going to be disabled and have to rely on something other than magic or have to kill a lying cheating bastard of an ex boyfriend and blame it on muggles. “Is it an automatic?” She finally asked, all in the name of the investigation of course.

"It’s not a fully automatic either, the ammo chamber is made a film reel, which you can see if you take a closer look. Barrel is an old organ pipe charmed down to a more reasonable size. It’s an antique custom made, some would look at it as an art piece. Film reel is from Cinema Paradiso, have you ever seen it? Its masterful."

Homemade machine gun? The man was insane. There was no other word for it. Which meant the object at the far end of the desk was likely a homemade grenade made out of a cocktail shaker and a couple charms. This one needed mental help just as much as the rest of his friends… only it was so rarely she got to talk to anyone about weapons of a muggle nature. Maybe just one more question?

“For the safety of us all just go to America next time and purchase one. They offer a wider selection and are likely more balanced than that thing ever was. Did you own any other objects of this nature? Machine guns tend to be a bit unwieldy.” She had successfully navigated that one without revealing how well acquainted she was with them. No I was used at all and it would prove to be a lovely lead into questioning him about how protected his home was. “I merely ask in case it was possible one of your own defensive weapons started the fire. I don’t doubt you were attacked but we have to cover every angle. Don’t want the press to start flinging hexes at me till I’ve been in this position for at least two weeks.” She added with an apologetic smile.

[Atlas Caedmon]

It was entirely possible that Atlas was just imagining things but, upon mention of Zippy name the head Auror looked visibly stricken. This seemed to Atlas a bit of an overreaction coming from a woman whos entire job involved tracking down and dealing with just about every danger imaginable. Surely Dark Wizards, evil goats and pixies ranked slightly higher on a list of things to be concerned about than there be one or two extra Sinistras around.

Yes, Apollo. The one who things he is a god....or do all of them? That was actually a very good question Atlas was fully prepared to launch into a discussion of the matter but Sophia pressed on. Maybe she was more perceptive of looming danger than he'd thought. Please don't answer that. Just deal with....Sybil.

Never one to antagonize the police (at least not when it wasn't expressly called for or a bank holiday) Atlas acquiescenced and went about disabling Sybil. That task complete he carefully sat back, looking back up in time to catch the decent of one perfectly kept eyebrow. It appeared she didn't know the tune. It was a shame really, the Dixie Cups had been a fine group and they had taught him everything he really ever needed to know about Mardi Graw. They had failed to mention the beads though, he was still a bit perplexed about their exact meaning....Right officer of law...thoughts on deeper nature of shiny beads and the American South later.

Now came the inevitable question concerning the legality of certain semi automatic weapons in certain nations and certain principalities. A part of him was grateful that most of the more magically illegal items had been set to just degrade in the event of significant structural damage. It was much more difficult to explain away something like black market cerberus organs or fairy wings than say a augmented aut 9 rifle. At least in most cases.......Sofia seemed to have a fairly wide knowledge of Muggle guns laws, disconcerting; and Muggle guns in general, more disconcerting.

For the safety of us all just go to America next time and purchase one. They offer a wider selection and are likely more balanced than that thing ever was. Atlas did his utmost to keep his face as neutral as possible. For all her apparent knowledge her blatant critisim of Sybil displayed a certain amount of short sightedness on her part. Why was it that so few people were able to recognize the brilliance and artisitic vision that Atlas felt he displayed on a near daily basis. First it had been the potato tree and now this. Buy a gun? Perish the thought, all the forms, and tracking, and then it was so much matenence to take it apart and build it into something proper. Sybil hadn't come together at all until he'd discovered those pan pipes in a dumpster behind a local primary school.

He'd tried a recorder first but it had never come together like it had when the pipes had made their appearance. Even Jasper had approved in his silent, slightly worried for his life sort of way.

Did you own any other objects of this nature? Machine guns tend to be a bit unwieldy. Now it was Atlas' turn to raise a speculative brow. She pressed on, I merely ask in case it was possible one of your own defensive weapons started the fire. I don't doubt you were attacked but we have to cover every angle. Don't want the press to start flinging hexes at me till I've been in this position for at least two weeks. It was difficult to tell whether the smile she leveled at him was sincere or one carefully practiced and put on. Typically he was able to tell but he didn't have enough experience with Sofia to tell for certain.

Sighing and plucking at one of his coat buttons Atlas reached another hand out and carefully turned the machine guns barrel, revealing that at one time had been a set of pad locks and cooper wiring. “Normally, yes machine guns have unruly recoil. Unless you can use a few well placed aiming charms to rectify that. Different settings. You seem very familiar with artillery. Hobby of yours? All of this is for scientific research of course...As for numbers....”

He lacked the fingers needed to count off every possible weapon that could have been responsible, and he didn't want anyone to know the llama beam. “At the time of the explosion there would have been no more than...” One more round of mental addition. “77.3....well maybe .5, but 77.5 'weapons' in the vicinity of the original explosion. I can provide you a detailed list if you like but I have doubts that any of them would have been the cause. Especially the water guns. The super soaker 980 in particular holds 60 liters. If anything it should have helped to contain it.”

“The truth is, there were any number of things in SHOP that could have contributed to an explosion, many of them entirely legal. In terms of spells the only defensive ones weren't enabled at the time of the attack,” Smiling ruefully Atlas made a sweeping gesture over his own still stiff and bandaged body. He had to be careful about what he said, as far as he knew Sofia was still largely in the dark about some of the finer details of what had taken palce. “Obviously. No ones really robbed the place since those students were chased out by the lobsters and Ringo the Machete parrot.”

“I didn't think to have any in place. In order for objects within SHOP to have been involved in the explosion they would have had to have first been caused by someone else. Namely the people responsible for this whole mess. I didn't set perimeter bombs and carve up my face for any kind of insurance payout, Miss Robards.”

A few measured breaths later, “I can't say I envy you. This is a hell of a first case to test your mettle against.”

[Sofia Robards]

Her smiled wavered as his hands went two directions at once, gun and coat. He wasn't honestly going to try and harm her in some way was he? Really that would be to kind of the man. Then no one would ever find out about the Dillan fiasco and she'd never have to procreate little beastly children. People would mourn her loss, talk about how wonderful it had been to know her and all her problems would just disappear unless she came back as a ghost - and with her luck that would be utterly typical. Being forced to haunt the world of the living and watching as people discovered all her closely guarded secrets. They couldn't put a ghost on trial could they? She bet Atlas knew... he looked the sort that would be up to date on paranormal law.

“Normally, yes machine guns have unruly recoil. Unless you can use a few well placed aiming charms to rectify that. Different settings. You seem very familiar with artillery. Hobby of yours?"

Drat. He wasn't going to kill her. She had been warming up to the idea.

"All forms of law enforcement are a hobby Mr. Caedmon. You could say its my job to know." That and it gave her a great pleasure to know that should the day come when she did need to murder some one she simply had to use a muggle weapon and all blame would glide right right over her and onto some muggle loving mudblood. Or criminal. Good thing Wendell was dead.

"All of this is for scientific research of course...As for numbers....77.3....well maybe .5, but 77.5 'weapons' in the vicinity of the original explosion."

Had Sofia been of lesser breeding her mouth might have hung open in shock. However there were to things to consider - one of which happened to be her own collection, which probably could rival Atlas's, especially when one took into account the darker items she had inherited from her great grandmother - who had been a black widow of sorts... only rather than kill her husband she had been partial to killing off his mistresses...

"I can provide you a detailed list if you like but I have doubts that any of them would have been the cause. Especially the water guns. The super soaker 980 in particular holds 60 liters. If anything it should have helped to contain it.”

"A perfectly decent amount of defensive weapons. I would greatly appreciate a list - thought a water gun might have been counter productive in causing a fire no?"

She gave a shrug and made a motion to the tea service that had been sitting forgotten on her desk. "Would you like some tea? I fear we are going to have to move away from causes and onto your attackers." She paused, giving the man time to mentally prepare himself. It was always wise to give victims a moment, forestalled the crying fits that often occurred.

"Judging from all the reports it looks as though you were a victim of a hate crime. However your attackers were good in destroying anything that might have been of some help in locating them. All magical trails were gone by the time we showed up. I was hoping however that you might remember something more of them? Did they give you a reason? Did you recognize any faces?" Sofia bit her lip realizing that to many questions would make her seem more insensitive than anything else.

"I'm terribly sorry to be asking you this. If you would rather owl me your answers I'll be more than happy to wait. Though if these crimes are in anyway...magical heritage related... it would be best to find them before they strike again." Magical heritage. There was a politically correct way of saying everything now days.

[Atlas Caedmon]

When he had given the exact headcounts of hazardous weapons within SHOP, some built, some borrowed (he had made a number of connections as Sergei), a great many of them were broken and awaiting a lull in activity so that they could be repaired, and at least one of them was blue, the Aurors eye’s got a little bit wide. He hadn’t really thought that 77 was a lot; At least not after he had gone to meet that very friendly weapons trader with Wendell several years ago. His home had seemed rather mundane aside from the stuffed goat in the corner and the rather large beagle sleeping in one of the armchairs, but then he had taken them to the barn. To Atlas’ recollection there had been enough high-grade weapons in that barn to start a full scale uprising in a small country, like Spain, or even Canada if they could be arsed to do anything except watch their precious and bewildering winter sports.

Prior to that experience he might have looked at the debilitated rail gun someone brought in for him and thought, ‘Do I really need another one of these? After though he hadn’t hesitated, rationalizing it by thinking that everyone that he purchased was one that didn’t end up going to Marty McLotsofGuns. A perfectly decent amount of defensive weapons. I would greatly appreciate a list – A wry smile came to her face. Though a water gun might have been counter productive in causing a fire no?

The moment of amusement was short lived and as her face fell Atlas once again resigned himself to the fact that this was the Head of Aurors he was speaking to. Mentally running down some of the laws he wondered just what she could do to him once she had a list of his stores, defensive or not he was sure they were still illegal. On the bright side if she was asking after guns that meant that the cleaning teams hadn’t really found anything else they thought was especially suspicious.

Would you like some tea? The question seemed odd and out of place and Atlas glanced over at the tray with a slight expression of confusion. That was before she continued, I fear we are going to have to move away from causes and onto your attackers.. That must have been some sort of tactic, a completely normal question quickly coupled with a statement implying the need for a discussion about something completely abnormal.

There was a brief pause during which Atlas inched forward in his seat enough to pour himself a cup of tea. The cups were the white, plain porcelain of Ministry China, and the one that Atlas selected had a slight chip in the handle. It was something he could worry his thumb against as a distractionary measure. He added a few sugar cubes, no milk and then sat back. Raising the cup to his nose he gave it a small precautionary sniff. It didn’t smell drugged…he didn’t sip it yet, just held it between his hands as Sofia laid out the Ministries version of events.

Judging from all the reports it looks as though you were a victim of a hate crime. So that meant that Will hadn’t said anything to her concerning the real motivating factors for the assault. I was hoping however that you might remember something more of them? Did they give you a reason? Did you recognize any faces? Atlas worked his finger around the crack in the cup, feeling the edges, where they were rough, one place near the top that was particularly sharp. As she continued to speak he pressed the pad of his thumb there, it wasn’t sharp enough to cut, just enough to leave a small intent in his finger.

I’m terribly sorry to be asking you this. If you would rather owl me your answers I’ll be more than happy to wait. Aurors weren’t really people that Atlas thought of as waiters and so he was surprised to have been presented with such an offer. Though if these crimes are in anyway...magical heritage related... it would be best to find them before they strike again.

Setting the cup down, still untouched, he regarded Sofia. He thought that veristerrum was illegal to use on non-hostile witness, let alone crime victims, but it wasn’t something he would think was off the table. “Is it no longer considered politically correct to say ‘blood crime’?” Tilting his head he obsevered her, debating what to do. On the one hand he felt that it was unlikely that they would make another attack, they had gotten what they wanted from him and it seemed foolish to strike again. On the other hand there was a chance that they could come back, or strike somewhere else to assure that the police remained attached to what they would see as a lead on the hate crime angle.

Sofia was pureblooded, would that make her investigation more about finding who had done this and protecting them or the other way around….and what would she do about Margot. He knew that several minutes had passed while he wrestled with what he could and should say and how he might still be able to twist it in order to shield certain facts.

“The only name that I can supply to you is Patrick Everand. He didn’t actively participate but he was present and armed with a gun.” The detail still seemed confusing and wrong to him but then, Sofia herself had shown some interest in weapons maybe it was a new trend for purebloods. “And there were three others; a girl she was small and quiet never spoke a word,” Pausing he took a deep breath, “An Irish man, tall, red hair and an extremely skill torturer and interrogator. And,” Here it was, sink or swim, “Their leader, a veela.”

“A reason was presented to me, but it wasn’t one that had to do with my ‘magical heritage’, though it seemed to be an added bonus. They were looking for information about Edward Garrow’s spell.”

[Sofia Robards]

One penetrating glance after the other followed. She wasn’t sure what was going though the other man’s head, from what she heard all manner of things could. At last he spoke, about of all things her word choice.

“Blood crime is frowned upon now days. The last Minster felt that it sounded offensive or hypocritical coming from certain members of the ministry, especially those of pure blood.” She gave a shrug. “Apparently my saying blood crime comes off differently than if….” A mudblood “…someone else had said it. I do my best to offend no one but my mother now days.” She concluded with a smile.

Atlas remained silent. Perhaps the crack about her mother had been inappropriate. More than likely he had some close bond with his parents and didn’t know the havoc they could wreck upon his life if provoked.

She could do nothing right now days it seemed. Bloody Wendell was always somewhere in the back of her mind. At least she could still navigate a party without stepping on to many toes when people asked where Dillan had gone to. Under cover assignment in the the middle east. Scheduled to die under mysterious circumstances next week after her lunch break while she planned the best way to kill the real Dillan Wenthwork aka Wendell Darrow without raising to much of a fuss.

At last Atlas spoke. She had somehow won him over without saying a word. A good thing since her mind had gone back to taboo while at work thoughts. She had promised herself she would only plan murder off the clock. Seemed more ethical somehow.

“The only name that I can supply to you is Patrick Everand. He didn’t actively participate but he was present and armed with a gun.”

Rather than gape at the man for being able to provide a name for one of his attackers Sofia quickly scribbled it down. But that was not all he remembered. She had gotten less out of people who had been like more than innocent bystanders of an attack, yet the man who had been the intended victim was able to give name and details! Her life was starting to look better. All she needed was to properly hush up the Dillan/Wendell issue and things would be amazingly normal. “And there were three others; a girl she was small and quiet never spoke a word, an Irish man, tall, red hair and an extremely skill torturer and interrogator. And their leader, a veela.”

Sofia looked up from her frantic scribbling, she had never trusted any enchanted quill that wasn’t expressly created by her to do paperwork, quite sure he was finished. “Tha-“

“A reason was presented to me, but it wasn’t one that had to do with my ‘magical heritage’, though it seemed to be an added bonus. They were looking for information about Edward Garrow’s spell.”

Garrow’s spell. She bit her lip, eyebrow raising. That put a whole new spin on things. A very very complicated spin on things. “His spell? There are others after it? This can only..." She trailed off, a deep frown replacing her previously neutral expression, thoughts flying through her mind at a mile a minute. Not all of them pertinent to the information Mr. Caedmon had given her.

"I can't thank you enough Mr. Caedmon for your frankness. I'll have them change investigation tactics immediately and put of a search call. If there is anything I can do for you please don't hesitate to ask." She managed after a few more seconds worth of thought and a final sip of tea.