"Welcome Back! What can I help you find?"

" I need to pull up a personnel file."

"Name?"

"Kennedy Wilson"

>> OPENING FILE: KENNEDY WILSON <<

Kennedy's whereabouts privy to Site-65 have been called into question over time, she states having attended a preparatory school then attending Yale until achieving a Masters in Business Administration, others claim she barley graduated high school and rumor she started off as a Medical Trainee, but it's neither here nor there. What is known is that she joined the foundation through the Internal Security Department, remaining quiet and swift rising to the position of Commissioner, and later Site Administration she often keeps to herself, in her office with her beloved cat, Maxwell.

Kennedy Wilson, the Site Director of Site-65, a generally well kept woman in charge of the day to day operations of the foundation. At surface level she was an immoveable object against constant unstoppable forces, an advocate, an excellent public image for the powerhouse that was Site-65's leadership, beneath her surface though is what was once a desire to lead the world to progress is a constant ache of knowledge. Often times you hear people say that knowledge is power, that learning and education are everything, knowledge will never prepare anyone for the horrors that are Site-65. The Site Director was no stranger to atrocities and horrific situations, the worst of them are often far and few between, but not never, often times when situations arise that require leadership, she wouldn't know what to do, "No one trains provides training for unimaginable horrors," she would think to herself in the most dire of situations, attempting to do everything in her power for the greater good. Whatever that was.

She sat in her office that overlooks Core Sector and Personnel Wing, observing the researchers as they pass-by with their clipboard and briefcases, some dragging along reluctant Class D, some talking casually amongst each other smugly, almost as if they were naïve to where they were. Her legs crossed in her chair as her beloved cat strolled around her office as if he owned it, she smiled at it longingly as if silently thanking no one, until there were 4 solid bangs on the door. Her cat, hating visitors, rushed to her side in the chair as her smile faded and her gaze averted to the door, she could hear numbers being typed on her keypad outside meaning whoever was coming in clearly wasn't asking to be welcomed. TBC.