[center][color=red][h3][u]Dorian Radshaw[/u][/h3][/color][Sub][color=Gray][i]~Minutes before the briefing was to start.~[/i][/color][/sub]

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Dorian was punctual as always, his appearance and attire immaculate as ever, even so considering the nature of the sudden short notice. The man sat alone patiently waiting unsociably in the back corner of the room, adjusting his cuffs while musing over the uncivilised antics he had observed earlier in the cafeteria. He hadn't needed to be in the room to [i]feel[/i] what was going on. 


His dark eyes unapologetically glared over each and every entrant that followed in after him as he intriguingly studied them one by one, although no attempts were made at greetings or social pleasantries. 

Before everyone had even finished arriving Dorian was already feeling the all too familiar sense of anxiety and claustrophobia. It made him ponder on the length and purpose of this briefing. As he felt the uncomfortable twist of nerves knotting in his stomach he habitually clasps his hands together and begins loudly cracking his knuckles in rapid succession. 
In his mind he began visualising every single sigal that he could possibly need and every negative scenario that could possibly play out. 

His mind was never truly at rest, new vibrations feeding new information and resulting in additional calculations as odds and possibilities were forever changing. The more people that surrounded him, the more variables and unknowns he had to consider. Here he was a control freak with very little control.
Despite his internal conflict, his outer demeanour was as cold as ice. He remained cool calm and collected. With an expressionless face he gave away nothing.

So patiently, with good posture, he sat and waited. Pondering on what world of mayhem he was about to be unwillingly dragged into.