Puxley Manor is where the lord of the land conducts his business upstairs away from the unpleasantries of the slaves housed below.
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June 11th, 2012
1:25 p.m.

Dr. Richard Reynolds hadn't seen the sun in a hot minute; and it was beaming down like the heavens were ready to scorch the earth. The heat of the day confirmed it was indeed summer, and the closer it got to the solstice, he knew heat and light would affect his poorly treated skin if he planned on coming outside more often. More often than not, Reynolds would be found in the bowels of Azkaban, buried under mounds and mounds of research and experimental work that had him busy for the better part of the year. Anytime he hit the surface for air or a quick bite (when he remembered), the sun had already set. Time and location were completely lost on him at times; seasons would change, holidays would come and go and he would only think a day or two had passed.

As he uttered things to himself, whispering his speech he'd practiced over and again in his chambers down below, he anxiously paced in the holding room just outside of the office he'd been told to wait until the Dark Lord was ready. It hit him again. Merlin! The Dark Lord! His nerves were on overdrive. He perspired some, not only because of that kiss of sweltering summer that was a shock to his senses but also because he was nervous as all get out. After all this time, all these trials he'd gone through with subjects, both failed and successful, Reynolds was about to meet the Dark Lord himself and perhaps his trusted advisors. As much as he wanted to keep this presentation under wraps, he would expect the Lord to have company. Witnesses. Guards. Something.

He gulped as he looked at he cage he'd wheeled in behind him. It was sturdy, black-out fiberglass encased in wrought iron, reinforced with magical strength to contain the subject inside. There was only a small horizontal slit at eye-level for an average person, though at its height of eight feet, his subject inside almost completely filled the case. Trying to calm down, Reynolds clung tightly to his notes and took a deep breath. He could do this.

A tremendous chunk of his life was dedicated to this project. He needed this to work in his favor, or it was back to the drawing board.
Last edited by Rupert Reynolds on Sat Jul 15, 2017 10:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The past 45 minutes hand been damn near excruciating and quite honestly he would have cut and run had Delilah not threatened to nail him to his chair if he didn't finish out the stack of paperwork he'd been putting off since they'd got back from the underground. Honestly running a country was no where near as fun as people were lead to believe. Bills needed vetting, laws checking, egos stroked.... ughhhhh it was enough to make Teague want to hurl. So much pandering went on with meeting after meeting it was a blood miracle anything ever got done. He'd traded in his tie and button down for a more comfortable green sweater. The pants he could live with, same with the dress shoes but hell if he hated ties... bloody pain in the arse they were. With a sigh the tracker put down the quill he'd been using to sign documents.

Speaking of meetings... Teague chanced a glance at the clock on the wall and let out a soft sigh. He had one scheduled for 1:30 p.m. with some Doctor something or other...Reynolds? Yea that sounded about right. He was coming to talk about some project of something. Not something to be overly excited for but the tracker wouldn't deny he was at least a tiny bit curious as to what kind of project warranted the Lord of the wizarding word to see? Vet? Approve of?

With a sigh Teague cleaned up the stack of papers he'd been going through and made his way to the door of his office. Maybe the Doctor was early, and quite frankly anything or anyone reason to not stare at papers was a good reason to check and see. The tracker..err lord, poked his head out the now open door and saw what he figured to be the man of the hour and some sort of cage? behind him. Heh.... maybe this meeting was going to be a lot more interesting than he'd first figured.

"Hey there, Dr. Renyolds I'm guessing?" Teague walked out and offered a hand to the man and followed it up with an easy grin, allowing his posture to take on the easy going tracker he was known for in hopes of settling the mans nerves. "Come on in," he stated simply after introductions were given. Teague turned and left the door open for Reynolds and headed back to his desk, flopping down easily into the chair behind it, watching as the good doctor entered and set himself up.
What time is it...

Does that even matter anymore?

It was dark inside the box and that's all he could tell. He was bound, muzzled, blindfolded, and shoved inside a heavily reinforced cage. From what Christophe could tell, he was being moved, transported somewhere--he assumed was another part of the lab where he'd been kept for years, never having seen the natural light of day for most of that time. He voiced outside of the box, muffled, as if he'd had his head underwater. Dr. Reynolds was one of them, and and the other one--he didn't recognize right off the bat. Reynolds had assistants, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to have company, but his instincts were telling him he should be wary of his surroundings if the door opened.

On the outside, Richard was trying hard not to be a hot mess. The Dark Lord himself walked through the doors and introduced himself, and all he could get out was a nervous hello and thank you before carting in his presentation into the room after he'd been given the invitation to proceed into the office. It was like he'd imagined, suitable for the Dark Lord, spacious yet cozy, dark, yet illuminated in the right spots. He'd always imagined this place would be like a throne room of sorts, and even though it was furnished like a proper office, he felt it had that regal air about it that was enough for him to feel like he was in a dream.

"Th-Thank you for allowing me to meet with you, My L-lord." He said meekly, as he shuffled through his notes once more.
Drusilla yawned and kicked the duvet off in a not-so gracious manner. She woke up in her hotel room around six, did her usual stretch and yoga exercises for the day and since she didn't have much in the way of duties to complete (since she was usually working on the forge or fishing with the townsfolk by 9 am), she decided to polish her blades and take a nice hot bath before heading off to Puxley. She was surprised she even remembered where it was, or how to get there from where she was staying, but being a part of the DE company was just like riding a bike, right? You hop off for a few weeks, months--years--and you can pick it back up again like no time passed, right?

She yawned again as she entered the manor, muttering to herself that she should have picked up a coffee or some sort of caffeine to help her stay awake for the duration of her stay here. Teague made it sound like a quick tour and maybe a little time to chat about her new position and its benefits. But when she reached what looked like the Dark Lord's office, or perhaps the adjoining conference room, Dru heard voices inside. Teague's was one of them, and the other? Well, seemed like a harmless one. Meek. Nerdy. A doctor?

Dru smirked and made sure her blades were secure before knocking softly on the door, two soft raps with her knuckles. She peeked her head in and stepped inside, grinning from ear to ear. This was an opportunity to see Teague MacTail, her old bestie from Hogwarts, in action as the Dark Lord? Oh, this is OUTSTANDING.

"Hiiiiii," She was beaming, and greeted them with a sing-song melody in her tone. The doctor looked up, a little rattled by her presence. He nervously pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose and gave a polite nod. "Hope I'm not interrupting?" Dru arched an eyebrow and strolled over beside the desk, resting on the edge some. She winked at the doctor to further fluster him, and then looked over at Teague.
Teague absently drummed his fingers on his stomach as he waited for the good doctor to get on with whatever the hell it was he called the meeting for. The box was obviously key, but it was quickly forgotten when Reynolds stammered some for of thanks. Dark eyes settled on the man as Teague sized him up, what the tracker saw, was nothing special. Typical reseacher guy, meek, scared of his own shadow and those of authority... Teague barely suppressed a groan. This was going to be a complete waste of time. Maybe this was Delilah's form of payback for that drunken night out they'd had a few days ago.


The greeting was sickeningly cringe worthy with how happy its owner seemed to be. It took everything and the some for Teague not to facepalm at Dru's all to exuberant entrance. What was she doing here anyway? He hadn't called for her that he could remember... had Del? A frown settled on his face followed by a frustrated sigh. As if this day couldn't get any worse... Teague fixed a glare on Dru and pointed at a chair in front of his desk.

"Chair. Sit. Now." Teagued figured he'd done well to keep an even tone, though it brooked no room for argument, and if Dru did argue, Teague wa not above kicking her out on her ass. While the good doctor wouldn't notice a change in the trackers demeanor or cadence of spoken word, Dru would probably be able to pick up on the subtle layer of annoyance that had settled over the tracker. Once he was certain the woman was going to comply he turned his attention back to Reynolds.

"Yeah, no problem. So what brings you here Doc? Guessin' it has something to do with what's in the box?"
{Richard Reynolds, pb: Mark Ruffalo}

Doctor Reynolds almost froze at the sight of the woman. An audience? He wasn't supposed to be presenting in front of an audience, was he? This information was simply put together for the Dark Lord and that was it. He gulped and watched as she sauntered into the room; He didn't expect the company anyone in this area to be so...cheery. Richard already felt the sweat at his brow and moved to wipe it with a kerchief he pulled from his pocket. Once he dabbed the perspiration from his forehead, he put the cloth back into his pocket and stood at attention until it was his turn to speak. Oh, he wouldn't dare speak out of turn in front of him or even the lady who had arrived.

"Ahem," He cleared his throat before rifling through his papers which seemed to have gotten out of order from all of the nervous pacing and shifting he'd done earlier. "Well, sir. I was notified by Captain Felix Fischer just a few days ago that our presentation was to be green-lit, so I-I do apologize if anything feels out of turn as I had little time to prepare." Reynold's throat was dry, and he coughed again. "Are you familiar with Project Chimaera, sir?" He asked, looking over his glasses to the Lord who was seated in his chair directly in front of him.
Dru raised her eyebrows at Teague when he barked at her. Sit? Now? Was this his way of showing off his power in front of others? Maybe he forgot she was supposed to be here? She wasn't going to spend all of her time tucked in the stuffy little foyer. (It wasn't little by any means, actually, but that was the thought.) Her eyes flickered with a bit of uncertainty and mock offense as she took the chair offered, bowing her head with a gesture, a flourish of obedience.

She didn't want to mess with whatever presentation was happening from the lanky looking man so she dragged it around the desk. It took longer than she wanted (the chair was actually heavier than it looked, even for someone with her strength), and the legs of it dragged with an ear-piercing squeal. Luckily it was only a short distance. She placed it beside the Dark Lord and his apparent throne, giving her a nice view of the show. Dru plopped down beside Teague and faced the Doctor and his strange looking box. Or cage...whatever it was.

"Sorry I'm late, dear. Stuck in traffic." She uttered as she sat down. It was a joke, perhaps a little ill-timed, but it was her way of coping with stepping into an apparent sideshow starring her very own best friend.

When she went to place her boots on the desk she saw Teague glare at her, so she was at least mindful of that and abstained. Dru settled in and crossed one leg over the other, folding her hands neatly into her lap like a good observer, and listened as the rambling doctor responded.

Chimaera... Her eyes widened, and she turned to Teague with a raised brow. She'd heard of this before, but only through rumors, nothing more. "No way..." She whispered to herself, certain that Teague might have heard her.
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