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"Seven thirty at night for an orientation?" King muttered to himself as he stepped out of his car in the garage and checked the time on his watch. Six minutes but if the instructions were right, he would only need five to get from his parking spot on the third floor of the garage to the front desk. "Just what did I agree to?"

Doing a quick scan of the other cars there before shrugging his leather jacket back on, King made sure his doors were locked and started following the signs to the stairs.

Signs of life were few and far between. While it did not appear to be empty, it clearly wasn't rush hour either. From what he could guess, 'newbies' must have gotten the short of the stick. He just prayed they weren't going to be here all night.

When he walked into the lobby though and looked up, King felt a bit of his doubt disappear again. This was the Foundation after all. LArge, over the top, grand entrance spoke for the level of people they should be employing as well as servicing. His father would have been proud but King had chosen not to tell him that he had been offered a position here.

Yet. He'd tell him in a time that was suitable for him.

Polished shoes clicked across the floor as he headed to the Front Desk and the woman sitting behind it.

"Good Evening." King politely offered with a flash of a smile. "I was told to come to check-in at the front desk. The name is Kingston. Believe this is right?" He added the last bit to try and sound more friendly. Rule of business: never piss off the gate keepers.

Gracie Soulier wasn't the sort to be too thrown off by the idea of an orientation in the late evening--certainly, it was a bit unusual, but for a doctorate student who spent most of her day studying, researching her own projects, or attempting to help undergrad students as a T.A., it was something of a godsend. Certainly, it sounded like there were opportunities ahead for her in this new job, but that didn't mean she was going to be impractical about things. Besides, an evening orientation was a small price to pay when it was tied to something that sounded very much like a launching point for a brilliant career.

The campus was certainly a nice one--promising, Gracie thought, and the lobby alone made it clear the Foundation was well-funded. (The Foundation being wealthy translated to well-funded research; never let it be said that Gracie Soulier didn't know an advantage for herself when she saw it.) Were she less confident in herself, she might be intimidated by the level of wealth and class on display, but she was prepared for this sort of environment: professionally dressed, not a hair out of place, any hint of fatigue-induced eye-bags expertly hidden beneath carefully-applied makeup. She was here for a reason, and that meant she belonged here. It really was as simple as that, when you got down to it.

Head held high and heels clacking lightly as she walked, Gracie approached the front desk. Hm, it seemed there were already a few others here; something to be filed away in case it might be useful later. She would keep an eye on them, she decided, but there was no need to do more than nod politely to both of them before approaching the secretary herself, once there was a spare moment. It was always a good idea to be polite but brief with this sort; secretaries were busy people, and the smoother things went the easier it was on everyone.

"Good evening; my name is Gracie Soulier, I believe you were expecting me?" While she waited, she took another quick look at the others already gathered here--they both seemed to be just a little younger than she was, and she was taller than both of them. (Not that unusual a thing, really; she was uncommonly tall and aware of that fact.) Other than that, she didn't see anything to be too invested in just yet. Perhaps that would change once the orientation began, but at the moment she was more interested in the secretary and getting her own affairs settled.

Almost at the last possible minute to show up and still be on time, perfectly punctual, Buffy sauntered into the reception area and beamed at the others waiting there. "Hey, y'all," he greeted with a wave of his hand, then approached the reception desk. "Jon Bufkin, present and accounted for."

Check-in taken care of, he turned to check out his fellow recruits -- at least he assumed they were also recruits, because otherwise what would they all be doing here at 7.30 at night dressed and polished like this? Buffy himself wasn't nearly as polished, though he was neat as a pin, his long pale hair tied back in a tidy ponytail instead of loose and just-got-out-of-bed messy. This was a professional gig, best to put on one's best.

"How are y'all this evening? Excited?" He didn't expect an answer as he scanned the room, assessing each of the others that were here with the practiced eye of a bartender. One fellow the picture of professional who seemed a right charmer at first glance, one who looked like he'd rather everyone else would drop off the face of the earth, a lady nearly as tall as he was who reminded him of a bouncer he knew once, another tall drink of water dressed to impress eyeing the others as if assessing them for their worth to her. Interesting collection of recruits here for orientation.

He'd been duly impressed with the poshness of the Foundation's campus and the majestic main lobby, but to Buffy, this was just another job orientation, like so many he'd been through in the last four years. Nothing to get too worked up about.

The very tall, very muscular woman was standing rather sheepishly to the side, doing her best to look intimidating (which, really, took no effort at all) but also trying to listen for a chance to make some sort of impression on those gathered with her. These were her compatriots, after all: the people starting at the same time as her.

They could be her friends, and were most certainly her allies. This made them important, even if she did not know any of them, yet.

And she was terrible at being social. Or at least, she thought as much of her own skills in company. It was just so difficult to find things to talk about, and generally people just seemed too scared of her to really want to speak to her directly, anyway. So when she heard Buffy speak, her surprising gentle eyes flashed his way.

She considered her answer, wanting to say something to truly convey just how excited she was: she knew this was the first step in to something life changing, even if she did not fully understand why. She wanted the others to feel so, too, and she really did want to engage them and learn about each of them. She just had to figure out the best words to break the ice, something pithy and charming, to sum up just how important and exciting this new opportunity really was.

"Mhm," she intoned softly in response to his question, though it was debatable if it even qualified as audible.

Her attention shifted, though, as someone in authority, as anyone who had been at this place longer than she had would immediately be considered, addressed the small group.

Harper accepted what she was offered thoughtfully, looking at the nametag and tilting her head to the side slightly in wonder. She did not feel like she was a particularly regal sort, but she put the name tag on without question. She always did as she was told: and she most certainly wanted to make a good impression now. She had already noted how odd it was that some of the employees looked so very familiar to each other, but had also already accepted it for what it was and decided not to worry about it.

She did not have any questions just yet, standing at attention and watching the others with curious interest. Sometimes she found it was just easier to let others talk, as they often brought up things she had not even considered.

The heck was this? A Joke?

King took the card and sticker, eying the piece with a look on his face that said she expected some sort of answer explaining the use of names. Receiving none, and finding that everyone seemed to have a sort of 'code name' themselves, he let it pass. This wasn't the first time he had to go by a name other than his own. In public, he was one person but when he ended up on a computer, well, he went by many names then.

"Interesting." He muttered, watching what could have been a clone of the woman behind the counter address them moments later. His eyes flickered back and forth then scanned the others as he clipped the badge to his belt loops and put the sticker on. Spinel hm?

The man going by Morganite made him look to the side as he mentally checked the box that if they ended up working together, he would run his mouth.

"Well Ms. Mime" He offered the woman a smile. "I believe we are in your hands this evening then."

Delighted that there didn't seem to be any questions amongst the group, at least for now, the young woman who'd identified herself as 'Mime' turned to begin their tour, motioning for the group of five to follow along after her. She started in a very professional manner, speaking as one practiced in being a tour guide might -- whatever it was that she had been recruited for it likely had something to do with personality and her ability to retain mundane information that most would gloss over with a side of 'yes, get on with it already'. "A strong Organization needs a strong Foundation. It's probably not the first time you've heard that during the process that brought each and every one of you here today and it most likely won't be the last. It is, of course, the motto on which the Foundation was formed!"

She had lead them towards the staircase leading up to the second level, pausing to turn and face them after making her way up the first two. The staircase itself made a fine backdrop for the rest of her introductory speech. "The Foundation is a Network of partnerships and enterprises that have, at their heart, dedicated themselves to preserving History while pressing towards the Future. Each one of you has been brought on to aide with an aspect of that... Research and Development," she made a gesture towards Apatite and Lavendulen, "Communications, advancement and acquisitions," a nod towards Spinel and Morganite, "and Security." Last, but certainly not least, she used her hand to make a gesture towards Regalite. "These things are generally handled by the specific corporations that are part of the Foundation -- things that will generally be reviewed on an individual level as you make your way through your placement here. What we've brought you in to discuss this evening will start with some of that, of course, but what we're really here to discuss is the Organization side of things."

Without giving much of an opportunity for discussion or additional questioning she turned to continue up the stairs until she reached the top. "While here it is up to you how much of your personal information you share with anyone who is not in... Well, for now we'll just call it upper management. We respect the privacy of the individuals employed by us and we understand entirely the need to keep work and home separate, which is why we encourage each and every one of our employees to do so as well. Your ID badges will only have your first name. Your, well, it was probably called a clearance badge downstairs -- that will be linked to the name on your stickers. Any work done after hours will require the use of that designation." Smiling brightly she looked to each of then once more before continuing on.

"This floor consists of all of the basic employee amenities and common areas -- Fitness center, cafeteria, lounge and business center." She proceeded to give them a tour of each area, starting with the business center as it was the smallest and working her way back around to the fitness center which she spent a little bit more time on. "Of course, this is just the basics -- simple work out equipment for those who are looking to get in a stretch, run or cycle between meetings. It..."

Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by a small chime and she immediately reached down to draw a communication device out of her pocket, flipping it open to peruse the source of the notification. "It seems like the Boss is ready for us so we'll be heading down to the Armory to pick up uniforms, clearance badges and company communication devices." She waved hers for an example before clapping it closed, heading back towards the staircase so the group could make their way downstairs to the elevator she'd arrived in. "I thought we'd have a bit more time to review the basics, but... Any questions while we're on our way down?"

Security, yes. Even now, the newly nicknamed Regalite was walking behind the others, stature tall and rigid, eyes moving to keep an eye on the recruits, her fellows and thus worthy of her protection, as well as the area around them. It was very secure and quiet, of course, but the grand design and high class authority that dripped from the place was not enough to put the ever vigilant Harper at ease.

At the very least, if anyone even stumbled on a step, Harper would be there to catch them. Her reflexes were almost prickling, even if she could not place the source of the energy. She had not been excited, not like this, in so long she hardly knew how to recognize it. Let alone how to respond to it besides how she responded to everything else: dutifully.

The sticker she now bore, with the new name and its growing importance, seemed like a badge of honor in some way, and she nodded her head. Regalite. It was something she would have to get used to hearing, but it was so rare for anyone to bother learning her name that she was sure she could adapt to anything.

She had certainly been called worse.

The armory? That piqued Harper's interest, her usually stoic face betraying her interest in the most severe way it was capable of: one eyebrow slightly quirking. Now that was an interesting name for a room in this building. Just how many foundations had a place like that? Somehow she doubted there was an actually smithy down there somewhere, with forges and singing hammers.

Probably?