[center][[color=662d91][H1]Argus Lichfield[/h1][/color]
Physical state: Dazed
Mental state: Alert[/center]

If there was one thing that Argus craved, it was [i]control.[/i] It was one thing to control ones psyche; ones actions; sometimes, perhaps, ones fate. But to control the external, the [i]Other[/i]... That was something else entirely.

Argus thrived on controlling his environment - and all those in it. He likened himself to a puppeteer, delicately pulling strings to create movement; an extension of their will, physically manifesting itself beyond the realm of pure imagination.

The world and its inhabitants were much the same. All that was required was the know-how and slightest bit of leverage. Pull the right strings, and you could drastically change the outcome of events in your favour.

Of course, when one could not [i]control[i/], one had to [i]adapt[i/]. Argus loathed having to adapt to ever-changing circumstances. If anything, he saw it as a sign of weakness: Adaption was indicative of chaos, and chaos indicated that ones preparation was lacking; that someone or something was [I]better[/i] than you were - and he refused to believe that anybody or anything was superior at his craft.

Although now, in this darkened hallway, Argus was becoming increasingly aware of just how much he was out of his depth.

[color=662d91][i]You fool! How could you have been so have been so sloppy![/i][/color] The briefest urge to shoot his way out flashed through his mind, but he quickly dismissed it - such a blatant display of violence would cost him the case and draw the ire of Lexington; and as much as he enjoyed toying with the detective, he couldn't afford to give him any more reason to meddle in his affairs.

No, the only option available would be to play ball for now, until he could work out a course of action.

He straightened himself and his trenchcoat, focusing on the deliberate and elaborate movements of his hands - in part to take his mind off the urge to wince at the pain still radiating through his head; but mostly to distract those present from the polished shoe that subtly shifted to conceal the lockpick lying on the floor.

[color=662d91]'Forgive me, gentlemen. I assumed that most of the faculty had gone home for the evening.'[/color]

He looked back and forth between the eclectic mix of men that filled the hallway. Some old, some young, each wearing expressions that ranged anywhere from fear and surprise to irritation and distrust. These strangers would have to be put at ease beforee he would be able to mould them in his desired image.

[color=662d91]'I was hoping to have a moment of peace to study the site of the recent... 'Incident', but I guess unexpected company is never a bad thing. The name is Lichfield, by the by. I'm here on behalf of the Bureau of Investigations.'[/color] Although the introduction was considerably more friendly and casual than his usual MO, he couldn't afford to make any enemies - Or at least, not right this moment. He stood quietly, waiting for the assembled gentlemen to make their next move.