<strong>Your characters name:</strong>Rhona Gale<br/><strong>Day of the week:</strong>[will edit in]<br/><strong>Current Location:</strong>Conference Room<br/><br/>The burgundy badge bearing her name suited her. Dark. Serious. Sanguine. Rhona gave the immediate impression of a strong woman who resided in the world and in her own mind in equal measure. The thick knit shoulderless cream sweater and black slacks she had chosen for the first round of trials were the most casual clothing she had worn to work in years. And this, she had done only to satisfy the criteria of this particular contract. Stripped of her corporate-casual battle attire, she hardly knew how to carry herself in the conference room.<br/><br/>Unengaed with the colleagues seated about her, the raven haired attendant was preoccupied, eyes downcast as she sifted through a folder of documents printed on standard company heading. There was nothing beyond the ordinary, aside from two seemingly incongruent details: her volunteer's age coupled with his professed sexual experience. Given the current climate of sexual liberation, it seemed highly unlikely a man of his age, with his cited height to weight ratio, would have so little to speak of. Her brows knit. Something was awry.<br/><br/>With this addled expression of confusion on her features, she looked upward in search of the tag that matched her own.