Celia Auclair would burst through the door into an office that was, for the most part, utilitarian, save for a healthy potted plant in one corner and a cherry blossom bonsai on the desk. An Absol slumbers beneath the meager shade of the corner plant's leaves. At present, the blinds overlooking the Lilycove shore are closed, and the room is lit by an overhead light. Another glow comes from the laptop screen in front of the startled councilman, whose deep brown eyes flick upward to meet the angry mother's gaze.

"Ma'am, you can't just barge in here—"

A chorus of other voices, mostly inquiring after the interruption, are quickly silenced as Orion shuts his laptop. Now, the strained voice of the secretary remains: "I tried to tell her, Councilman Lykos, but she wouldn't listen!"

She closes the door on the poor, harassed employee, and marches right up to seat herself across him.

Orion's mouth is somewhat agape as he struggles to find the words to properly reprimand this woman. He'd been in the middle of a conference call! This was a government building! Barging in uninvited was just plain rude! But he's stalled enough by the sheer gall of the woman that she's more than able to say her piece before he's finished collecting his thoughts.

"Should I call security?" asks the voice beyond the door.

Orion is the one to break eye contact first, instinctively looking at the photo that's placed on his desk. His stomach drops. Andy Blackadder, the kid on the warfront.

"I'll handle it, thank you!" Orion calls back, then looks Celia dead in the face as he adds, "I can call them myself if I need to."

His heart is already beating too fast as the anxiety gets its claws in him, and his ire at the interruption wars with sympathy for a worried mother chasing whispers of her son. That doesn't give her the right... But he softens, a little, and takes a breath before presenting a hopefully measured response: "I don't know what rumours you're following, but that doesn't change the fact that you're trespassing on League property. My office runs on an appointment schedule for a reason, miss...?"

Celia Auclair.

It's not a name he's likely to forget.

He's not surprised the Galarian embassy were involved, though that the ambassador himself had spoken to her gets his attention. Then again, if she'd march right into a councilman's office without appointment, he has no doubt she'd have treated Remiel Calcifet the same.

"No harm came to your son under League supervision." He chooses his words more carefully, now, as a clearer picture of Blackadder forms. She'd wield his words as weapons against him. She reminds him of his own mother... if that woman had ever cared about him as a son. "He spoke to a member of the Council and was held here until someone came to retrieve him."

He's not here any more, the statement further implies.

Unwittingly, Orion steps directly in Celia Auclair's trap.

She doesn't know about the war, he realizes; it's too late to stumble back on his words now. He had not said that Andy Blackadder was detained by the League, but she could easily sniff out the truth if he tried to deny it.

In a war between his own bleeding heart and the League's protocols, the latter wins out. There was a press conference coming up and they did not need another scandal.
'
"Ma'am, your son was spotted on a warfront after civilians were ordered to evacuate. It's the responsibility of the parent or guardian to ensure those evacuation orders were followed —" the look he gives her is pointed, "— and so the Council only wished to check on him, to figure out how he'd ended up on the battlefront and to ensure his well-being. He was held only until his guardian — his aunt, I believe, who got in contact with the Embassy — was contacted."

Rumour had it that FERNANDO SILPH had been the one to call for the detainment, but Orion leaves that part out.

In spite of his best attempts to maintain composure, the councilman flinches as Celia Auclair slams her hands down on his desk. A half-drunk cup of coffee tips over on the desk, liquid spreading rapidly. Orion scrambles to shove any electronics out of harms way, fumbling for a box of tissues that rarely saw use.

All the fight seems to leave Blackadder after her expression of rage, and the back of Orion's neck prickles as he hears her sniffle.

Oh no, he frets, what do I do?

Tossing coffee-soaked tissues into an otherwise empty waste basket beside his desk, Orion nudges the box within reach of Celia. His professionalism seems to have abated in wake of the awkward pause, and he looks more worried than anything else.

"I'm sorry," he says, and means it. "I can put you in touch with the ambassador, if you'd like. We can figure out where your son went after meeting with him."