[centre][color=00a651][h3]~Reginald Wagner~[/h3][/color]

Clop.

Clop.

Clop.

[color=f7976a]“So what are we gonna do with her?”[/color]

Wagner sighed. Well, that would be Meredith. Was she trying to scare yet another poor student? Why she was even allowed on the campus, Wagner would never know. Surely she put everyone in danger. Although, she wouldn’t be the only one. It seemed like half the student body and many of the staff were a massive threat to everyone and everything around them. Why gather them all in one place? What was the reasoning behind that? Surely it would do better isolate those? To minimize the chances of a catastrophic incident taking place. 

But that decision was not Wagner’s to make. Nor was it his place to really think about.

He turned the last corner and strolled down the final bit of hall. And voila. Before him stood Vice Principal Smith. And the Hillard creature. And a long tail of students.

Yet they all appeared to stop before a small girl in a wheelchair. Smith and the girl were eyeing each other. Rather odd, he had to admit. 

Or was it?

Wagner’s interaction with the vice principal was rather limited, as was it with Hillard. He hadn’t the best feel for the two women, if one could truly consider Hillard a woman. Still, he had no qualms with either of them. Wagner turned to share his confusion with Dr. Archer, but the man was no where to be seen. Had Reginald shaken him during the trip there? Unlikely, but not impossible. Oh well. The doctor would catch up.

Wagner shrugged and turned back to the group. The students seemed, well, rather unruly. He could understand. It was getting on in the day. And surely they had to be hungry and tired, what with the school’s barbaric method of transporting them. Why, they might even be prone to riot. 

We wouldn’t want that now, would we?

Although, Wagner wouldn’t intervene. Not much use in it, was there? Smith would handle what needed to be done. It wasn’t exactly her first rodeo. Instead, Wagner simply stood in the pathway, observing the students from the left, but not really thinking much. The alcohol was starting to do it’s job. The man’s mind felt a touch slack. He could feel warm tendrils caressing his skin, the small hairs on his arms standing straight up. His relief was finally kicking in. Just in time, too.

He would simply make his appearance here, be seen at least, then most likely slink back to his office and have some more of the drink. As long as he could retain a semblance of productivity, he could continue his drink. But should it come to it, should the drink begin interfering, he would kick it aside once more.

Right…?[/centre]