The first floor was a lie, of course - well perhaps it could be better described as a shallow truth that covered up the deep secrets beneath with an umbrella of normalcy. There were cubicles, phones ringing, people in ties and pantsuits and conference rooms, complete with glass walls and doors that led from one section to the next in orderly, grid-like fashion. It was the Severn Foundation's front, in full display, as the employees lent money and retrieved payment with interest with all the energy of a beehive at the height of spring. It was important, not just in retaining an image, but also in helping to bring in the money needed - and a lot of money was needed. Luckily, it came from more than one source.<br/><br/>"Very cute," William responded dryly as he sat heavily in the office chair behind his desk; the hustle and bustle of the rest of the first floor was barely audible on the other side of the solid oak door and thick paneled walls that bordered his office, but he still put an ebony hand lightly in the ear opposite the phone as he continued speaking. "I called to inform you that the tip you gave me was good. But I suspect you're hiding something from me."<br/><br/>He was speaking to another source, and although any trickle of income was precious, the person he was speaking to also brought a very different kind of value to the table. If only she'd learn to cooperate. He had no time for games.<br/><br/>"Catarina Acerbi is here, and you failed to bring that to my attention … It is not your place to tell me whether or not it is important. Find out where and why."<br/><br/>The line he spoke on was a secure one, for obvious reasons - the relationship they had, frosty and all-business as it was, could never get out. It was unheard of, particularly given Severn's very well documented leanings. At the same time, it was a necessary evil, one he trusted himself to navigate with the same efficiency he displayed in all other aspects of his work.<br/><br/>"And Ava… Your continued assistance is appreciated."<br/><br/>He hung up even as he stood, his feet pointing towards the western wall of his corner office. He had his own elevator, of course, and it was time to visit the<span style="font-style: italic">real</span>Foundation. It was time to travel down the umbrella's shaft, and check in on the work that would change the world.