<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/f/fb/Tumblr_mn889nVhds1rtiyedo1_500.jpg/447px-Tumblr_mn889nVhds1rtiyedo1_500.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Dr. Malachi O'Rourke (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=173794.msg8287122#msg8287122)<br/><strong>Occupation/Status:</strong>Head Scientist<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Briefing Room<br/><strong>Action Summary:</strong>Heading to the Mission Briefing<br/><strong>Tagged Characters:</strong>Wicked, Maybelline, Shade<br/><strong> Open to Others?:</strong>All<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>It was a rare thing for an hour to pass without at least one report being submitted to Dr. O'Rourke for review, he had the task of overseeing all the R&D undertaken in the Foundry headquarters, as well as providing oversight for other facilities. He never delegated that responsibility, but took his time in reviewing each and every submission, he had even instigated stricter reporting guidelines after taking the post. Those who worked to his exacting standards were rewarded and those who failed were not spared the slightest iota of his anger and disgust. He had a standing threat to schedule for vivisection anyone caught manipulating experimental data or failing to report their experiments, which, while unverified, did work remarkably well to protect the interests of scientific objectivity in his domain.<br/><br/>Where he was the most strict was in reviewing the experiments and exercises involving the Prototypes. They were incalculably valuable, utterly unique specimens, his duty was to ensure that they were not unnecessarily damaged or destroyed, yet there was also a paternal feeling towards the young inhumans. Though he was proud of how well they had developed, as his creations and as individuals, considerate, even occasionally affectionate, he had no reservations about pushing them to their limits. He wanted to make them stronger, to help them explore their own potential and rise higher. Yet it was obvious that the experiments were growing more aggressive, less concerned for the welfare of the Prototypes. Project OLYMPIAN was due to begin full production schedules within a year. The advances made in the near two decades since the first batch had been born would allow the Foundry to be far more prodigal with their supersoldiers. The next batch would grow to full physical and mental maturity within three years, personalities and training could be made redundant with cybernetic implants into which information, expertise and behaviour could be programmed. The Foundry was trying to harvest as much data as possible from the Prototypes for the benefit of the next generation.<br/><br/>He wasn't in the best of moods when he shut down his laptop, making one last scribbled note in his pocket notepad before it was shut and pushed into the pocket of his jeans as he rose. While he did own a labcoat, it was rare that he wore it, and usually he simply left a few spares in his size around the facility. He wore a rumpled blue dress shirt, untucked and with the collar worn open, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he hadn't shaved in two days, casting a dark shade of stubble across his face. He looked more like a carpenter than an academic, even at the best of times.<br/><br/>There were some things to look into, he sent a text message over the internal system to make sure that the others were being released from their current activities for the briefing. A few minor incidents on days reports looked negligible, but he saw the pattern behind that behaviour and knew what was coming. He walked into the Briefing Room as though he owned the place, unselfconscious and utterly at ease, smiling warmly at his young charges on his way past. "Heya. We're just waiting on the rest of the squad and a few others and then we'll get started." The Commander was greeted with a slight nod, the gesture returned, and then Mal took a chair. "It seems like everyone's running tests today."