They stopped and Eliot explained things about the piece before them but she didn't seem interested in this nor the last several they had toured. And when she did speak it was about the cause of the fire. A fire caused by little godlings who he had helped escape the confines of the mansion. He'd taken a broken nose for his trouble so it didn't look like he was complicate in their leaving. Not that it mattered, no one really looked twice at the non-reasons given. Accidents happen.
Eliot chuckled.
"I'd love to say it was an accident, but I'm pretty sure arson was involved." Covering their tracks, though no one really knows what they came into the Atharim headquarters for.
"It started in the basement. And no one really knows what ignited and with all the rubble it was nearly impossible to tell the ignition source." The trailing fire from the woman, no that wasn't what made it spread he thought to himself.
"As for the woman who claims she was there. I wouldn't doubt it, we have many a women who frequent the mansion. What did she say exactly?"
“Hn,” she said. “Arson implies you have enemies.”
He did not immediately call an end to the conversation, which she presumed to be a good thing. Helena no longer bothered with the mask of nicety and now simply watched him with interest. He could have brushed her off – rumours abounded in Moscow, from conspiracist to the downright absurd, and most meant nothing. Given her suspicions she was aware that she should be cautious, but she was also aware that her name offered her some protection. Even cut off from her family, the disappearance of an Asquith would cause a fuss she imagined was better avoided. Though more than that single assurance, Helena was also confident that should her instinct here reveal something useful to her, she had something useful to offer in turn.
“What she said is irrelevant. I am confident we are talking about a supernatural occurrence, and it seems unusual to me that Baccarat would be targeted.” She gestured to the crystal exhibits and watched for his reaction. “Let me be frank, Mr Lagueux. I believe we may have goals in common. Our world is changing, and I would have a part in.”
Eliot smirked. She was a bit too sharp to keep moving in the same direction he had been. He was curious about what she knew. Or what she had heard, anyway. She was right arson was suspect. Supernatural was correct. Though he wasn't sure how much of that he wanted to admit.
"Everyone has enemies. I'm sure you understand that as much as anyone else." He knew very little about her or her family. And he might have to do some digging when this was all over. But for now, he assumed that all of the rich and famous in Moscow had dirty little secrets they wanted kept quiet.
"I won't deny the fact that it looks strange a supernatural fire, and to be honest the way the building practically melted, there is nothing other than supernatural that could explain it."
Eliot lead Helena to the private study upstairs. His father adorned the place in mahogany and very little crystal -- you'd think he'd love it, but it was a love hate relationship for the whole family. Almost sickening, some might say. The study was light with small flickering candle like bulbs, giving the air of an old school library for the 16th century. Floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with the greatest books of all time. There were no Atharim teaching in this room. But there were books that could have come from the same days of old.
He offered Helena a seat in one of the large sofas in the center of the room
"Drink?" he asked as he poured himself a whiskey.
"I am curious as to what these common goals might be. I am always looking for allies in the right places."
Helena looked around the office with an impassive expression, though the fact she looked at all betrayed interest in her new surroundings. Though she did not linger to read any spines on the shelves, these were the sorts of volumes she might have expected in her own familial libraries back in England – which was to say old and probably valuable. She sat where she was directed, perched with formal stiffness, though she did not look uncomfortable so much as it was simply her usual manner. The drink was accepted with a little smothered impatience for the nicety. She was eager to get straight to business.
“The common goal to shape our world to our liking, Mr Lagueux.” That much ought to be obvious; what else was wealth and reputation for? But she elaborated without a pause for drama or tension. Her gaze was direct and unflinching.
“Left unchecked, these new channelers will overturn order. Death is not a sustainable answer – and it ignores the uses of such gifts, let alone the clear impossibility of the task. The government ambles towards its own brand of control, of course, but you and I both know where the true power in this world lies. We have a responsibility and an obligation to mitigate the chaos.”
And they had finally cut to the chase. How does one stop a man or woman who can bend you in literal half with a mere thought? Though it may look like that Eliot knew it was so much more, but he didn't divulge his secrets lightly to anyone. No one really knew at least no one in the general vicinity.
He smiled
"I see. Yes, there should be some method of containing these persons of interest and some of them perhaps rehabilitiation or if not at least entertainment?" Eliot knew a little bit about her endeavors here in Moscow, nothing beyond the occassional abuse of monsters, but a dead monster is a dead monster. Though he wondered how much she actually knew of the boy with the connection to the vile creations of the underworld. He'd erradicated them say one report, yet there are always more evil minds around.
"The CCD uses a mist born reagent to quell the targets, tho it tends to leave them groggy and not forth coming. There should be something better."
“It’s foolish to criminalise this power. Genocide only ever insights war, and hatreds that will last for generations to come. The world will not be saved, it will suffer – and I dare say its perpetrators will ultimately be remembered on the wrong side of history. I wonder, Mr Lagueux, which side of history you will choose to stand on.”
He was correct to understand that the Almaz was a resource that was on the table. A controlled environment for destruction was a valuable tool, and accidents sometimes happened in the ring. Helena was certainly not suggesting that everyone with the power deserved to live. In fact she had very little moral feeling either way – what she wanted was a world in which she could live freely, without fear of shadowy assassins at her door simply because she had been born different.
“Sheep follow the grass,” she said with an offhand gesture. She expected he would recognise the words as Nikolai Brandon’s. Whatever else the man might be, he had certainly proved his capacity for control. “Use your wealth and status to provide structure – education and guidance, but most importantly a natural order to follow. Punish dissidents – and ensure it is seen as such – but not those who are simply born with a power they do not understand.
“These changes will happen anyway. They already are. You or I cannot change it, but it is our responsibility to be at the heart of these changes, to shape them in the right way. The Custody has already taken control of the narrative – and it has cast the role of shadowy villain. Who do you think the people fear more? Those with these supernatural gifts, or the men and women who might come for their children in the night?
“Survival depends on reinvention. That is the alliance I am offering, assuming I have found the correct man to offer it to.” A sharp brow rose.