<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Oswald.png)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Oswald Hardinger<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>The Collegium (Chairman)<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3rd, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The London Royal Apothecary<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Agatha, Elisabeth, Onneca<br/><hr/>“Thank you,” said Harding, bowing his head, genuinely grateful for the invitation to join them.  Even if he had openly asked for one, he still clearly felt quite the intruder, and his eyes brightened a bit at the introduction to Onneca do Goni.  “An introduction I've been hoping to have the honor of for some time,” he said.  There was no idle flattery in the compliment; instead his voice seemed to brim with academic intrigue, and he nodded at the mention of the honey.  “Indeed,” he agreed.  “Enjoyed a great deal.  There was a … a fracas in the mess hall at the Collegium, yesterday, when the chemistry Chair liberated the last of the honey for some purpose in his experiments.  You would have thought he'd carried off Helen of Troy, for the row it caused.”  He blushed a bit at the word 'elder,' touching his greying beard a bit self-consciously, but nodded to Elisabeth in gratitude.<br/><br/>“Buenos dias,” he returned the greeting.  His accent was accentuated with more of a classical Spanish dialect then the regional accents of Central America, and then he glanced back towards the Town Hall, perhaps wondering how good a day it might actually be.  He returned her smile, charmed by it, unaware of the humor at his expense.  He took the tea as well, pulling it close without sipping from it as yet.  His gaze lingered on it for a moment, gathering his thoughts, but his gaze flicked back up when she mentioned that no one thought of her as a scientist.<br/><br/>“Oh, I must protest,” he said, with a small shake of his head.  “Phelps forwarded me a particular thesis written on<em>Sesbania punicea</em>that had been circulated to him from L.L. Langstroth, and your hypothesis, your articulation of the potential devastation Spanish Gold could wreak upon the already tenuous balance of the shattered ecosystem of the Great Maze - “  He was speaking with his hands, naturally forgetting his reserved as his scientific curiosity and excitement rose to the fore, then seemed to remember all at once he was a guest at morning tea and not engaged in a scientific debate within the cloister of the Collegium.  “I believe you are<em>quite</em>the scientist,” he said softly.  “And... ah... the sun is lovely.”  His cheeks were reddening, and he plucked at his coat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, smiling to Elisabeth and Agatha when she referred to them as 'familia.'<br/><br/>He floundered a bit at the question of the bread.  “I have... never had it before,” he admitted.  “The baker assured me it was popular and... well, it seemed unimaginably rude to invite myself to your tea and not bear at least some small contribution.”<br/><br/>He nodded gratefully at Agatha's contribution, and the artful arrangement of honey on the sliced bread.  He took the tea back to his lap, taking a small breath, then turned back to the sobering questions of his opinion on the state of Gomorra and the question of Nash Bilton.<br/><br/>“For many years, J.P. Coleman sheltered the Collegium from the interests of Sweetrock,” he explained.  “He took our concerns seriously investigated mishaps at our mines... far too many were certainly the product of malfunctioning inventions, but our relationship with him was amicable, and through it we could establish an amicable relationship with Sweetrock.”  His voice had softened, his nervousness replaced with a deeper anguish.   “Two nights ago, one of our own was murdered.  Pierre Fontaine.  He – you may have known his interest in music.  He produced the wax recordings that I understand are becoming popular.  But his true interest was underwater exploration.  He had produced an underwater vessel, a suit capable of allowing him to breath beneath the waves, even a system to safely allow for excavation of ghostrock from underwater mines.  Remarkable contributions, all, and … I can't remember a day in the last six years he wasn't thumbing through<em>20,000 Leagues.</em>”  He chuckled, then his eyes lifted, gleaming with moisture.  “The Maze Rats discovered his vessel, and cut the line providing him air while he worked to excavate his mine.  When he tried to surface, the sharks that follow the<em>Typhoon</em>devoured him.”  He swallowed heavily.  “I – witnessed the entire event.  Via the Collegium's telescopes.”  He blew out a breath.  “He will be missed.  My concern... my concern was with the reaction of the mayor, and our appointed sheriff.  He suggested that seeing any kind of justice done would be a waste of time.  The Maze Rats only assault independent miners... and his efforts would be focused on damages inflicted upon Sweetrock's.  The subtext was quite clear... though he mentioned he'd consider it in return for a suitable 'tax' and equipment from the Collegium's armories.”<br/><br/>He grit his teeth, then softened again.  “Agatha... I know we have not always seen eye to eye.  But I think I have made a sore mistake to turn aside your potential contributions.  I fear that very soon the Collegium will be solely responsible for its own safety, and your expertise would be... most appreciated.”  He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and there was genuine sincerity.  "And I owe you an apology that I have not seen that truth sooner."