A figure waited before her building, sitting beneath one of the trees in the courtyard checking their painted fingernails. She was a colorful and daring sight, as though wearing clothes that accented her femininity to the absolute maximum. She wasn't curvy or anything, a modest girl by conventional standards, but she was able to reveal just enough and highlight just the right places in order to gain this effect. 

	"My, my, you've quite the following..." speaking in a light tone, "It took quite some convincing to get all those pesky reporters to go away. Fortunately for the both of us, much like those without true ambition, they are like mindless fish who'll bite on any lead. It doesn't matter how implausible it is, so long as it has the right bait. And that would be you, Doctor Rutherford. I mean, I can't blame them for their excitement though. After all, you're the one who managed to make a break-through on stem-cell research in her measly college years, something senior heads and whole sectors have been pulling their hair out for years trying to accomplish. Then after becoming a world-acclaimed genius, whose talents are sought after all across the globe, she still finds time in her busy corporate schedule to go out of her way to heal the disabled... quite the touching story." putting out a hand as she spoke in mocking announcement, "I can see it now, plastered all over news articles and websites, 'Woman who founded augmentation reveals she also has a heart of metal; [b]Gold[/b]'!" scoffing to herself, "Or something corny like that. Bleh. And all for what? Views? Attention? Coverage? To spread awareness and bring insight to the populous? No, for [i]money[/i]. I really can't stand such distasteful things..."

The young woman muttered, finally looking up, her sky blue eyes shining in the sunlight, "But I'm not here to talk about that. I seek the greater truth in all this..."

	The redhead stepped up from her seat and moved forward with a grin, heels clicking on the tiled pavement. Though the expression felt contrast to what it was supposed to be, laying on her face in a cold disdain, "I'm sure you keep count of those you help, but do you know how many people you've killed in the past 24 hours? Though not by your own hands, doctor..." looking down, "Of course, how could such innocent little things? At least one of them. But there is a certain... person who keeps coming up in my cases, a figurehead of sorts. From the incident of the 'Stanley Parable', to the 'Electronic Fallout' in downtown Los Angeles. It all ties to a..." her voice now becoming a whisper.

 "[i]Mister Crawford.[/i]"

...