[img] http://i243.photobucket.com/albums/ff9/nacron/royalhounds_zps752b1a47.jpg [/img]

[b] ‘The Underground’ - 9:00 am, Tower (headquarters) [/b]

[i] The date was October 5th, and the time was 9:00 am, exactly. It didn't matter if it was October or March, London was always grey. In a tower that most of the civilians associated with just another skyscraper that involved something of a business, it did it’s routines. The building wasn’t falling apart, but it was not completely new either. In the eyes of everyone passing by, it was just another building with another unimportant name. [/i]

Exactly. 

---

A woman scanned over a file cabinet of papers and pulled out individual ones, as if she already knew what she was doing. She nonchalantly walked over to her dark oak desk and fanned all the files out like cards among her. Each file had a certain amount of papers, with certain amount of details, of a certain amount of people. A crisp expression laid on her face as her eyes glanced to the names.The small pocket-sized identification photos of these certain beings where attached to the folders with a paperclip. Very stereotypical. With a gracefully movement of her hand, she picked up a pen and began to right on a sheet of paper. 

[i] Black Dogs, Hell Hounds, and Cerberus. [/i]

Under these categories, she began to write the names of each and every being under their corps. In a way, to the woman this seemed nostalgic. A list of names, with another list, and yet another list. After a few minutes of working, she looked down at her paper. Satisfied, she gathered her folders and papers and put them into a thick folder. Without a sound, the woman grabbed a stamp with the royal seal. This thick folder held the names of some of the agencies delicate and lethal weapons. 

[i] By the Throne’s Orders, The Royal Hounds - Hunters of the Crown. [/i]

---
Almost without a sound, the thick folder went into a locked drawer of the woman’s dark oak desk. With almost a sigh of sadness, her eyes looked yearning out to the window. A breath to show one last emotion, before she stepped outside of that door. The slender, dark whisper of the woman was Isabella Coon. But not anyone of the company calls her this. Her name is Disciple here. And it will remain that way. It was for the safety to call everyone of this division by their ‘assigned names’. 

Other matters needed to be addressed before the day is out. She blinked sharply to snap herself back to remember the task at hand. Turning, she grabbed her cellphone that sent out the following message to the members of the company.
---

[b] Announcement - Current Time: 9:05 A.M. 5th of October - Disciple of Cerberus Speaking [/b]

A mandatory meeting will be held in conference room 345B of the East Wing at precisely 9:30 A.M. Yes, I am aware of the short notice. This is not by my account. [u] All members of the Hounds are assigned to report. [/u] When you arrive, take your seat. I will be waiting to discuss the current matters. All policies apply.

---

After sending the mass-message, she opened a filing cabinet and took out another folder of papers. Isabella popped her knuckles and took a drink of her tea before leaving. She let her office door close behind her and lock. The black dress she was wearing slightly blew, and her footsteps could barely be heard as she nimbly walked down the hallway to arrive at conference room 345B.