[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/HO10v8X.png[/img][/center]

[center][b][H1][color=795580]POE[/color][/H1][/b][/center]

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[color=795580][b]TIME:[/b][/color] [i]8:00-8:04 AM[/i]
[color=795580][b]LOCATION:[/b][/color] [i]SDN Office—>Meeting Room[/i]
[color=795580][b]INTERACTIONS:[/b][/color] [i][@GingerBobOh] [@princess] [@Oso] [@FunnyGuy] [@Infinite Cosmos] [@DClassified][/i]

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Poe stood just outside the meeting room, leaning against the wall with an energy drink already half-drained. The low hum of the building's ancient HVAC system was a constant, irritating background note, occasionally punctuated by the soft drizzle of rain against the window. She had arrived early, out of habit, but saw no reason to rush into the depressing, musty atmosphere of corporate purgatory.

She’d seen Chadwick slip into what she had always assumed was a janitor's closet or a service panel room before the designated start time. [color=795580][i]Predictable optimization error,[/i][/color] she thought. That man’s entire existence was focused on achieving a non-existent corporate ideal; he was pure NPC noise.

At 08:03, Starburst slid in, immediately looking distressed by the sheer amount of off-white wall space. She offered a nervous greeting, clutching a coffee cup that Poe could identify from twenty feet away as a gross violation of a balanced diet. But who was she to judge as she took another sip of her energy drink.

Three agents present. Good enough. It was 08:04 AM.

Poe pushed off the wall and walked into the room, her platinum hair and black hoodie a stark, cynical contrast to the faded, crooked motivational posters. She walked over to the table and dropped into a scratchy chair with a little too much force. The smell of stale coffee was overpowering.

[color=795580]“Morning, Quinn,”[/color] she said, her voice dry, without any effort toward warmth. She looked pointedly at his thermos and then back at his face. [color=795580]“Still trying to calculate the perfect coefficient for your morning caffeine intake? You look like you’re about one percentage point of efficiency away from spontaneously combusting, which I’m sure would make your data logging fascinating. Relax, Quartermaster, whatever complicated formula you were optimizing, Chadwick will 're-align' it into uselessness before lunch, I’m sure.”[/color]

She then turned her attention to the new face, Sylas, whose domino mask and notepad suggested a commendable degree of preparedness, if not cynicism.

[color=795580]“I’m Poe. I’m the Z-Team’s dispatcher. You must be Reforge.”[/color] She gave a curt nod. [color=795580]“Welcome to the basement. I already read your file, so you know the vibe of the Deniable Ops division, yeah?”[/color]

Her gaze finally landed on Roxanne’s absurdly topped coffee and muffin. Poe took a sip of her own synthetic blue energy drink. [color=795580]“A balanced breakfast,”[/color] she stated dryly, nodding toward the sugary concoction. [color=795580]“I assume the whipped cream is the counter-measure to the actual coffee in that cup. Just try to keep the sugar rush from triggering a full-system discharge before the meeting is over, pretty please.”[/color]

Poe paused, recognizing the slump in Roxanne’s shoulders. She mentally tagged the situation as a minor crisis demanding immediate, low-effort mitigation. She briefly scanned Roxanne's clothes, the soft pink cardigan was certainly a stylistic choice.

[color=795580]“Also, the pink cardigan is actually… cute,”[/color] Poe added, her voice flat, as if delivering a required, non-negotiable data point. [color=795580]“A good aesthetic distraction from the grim reality of our employment.”[/color]