Tim
an excerpt

The office was rather blank, about as the hall itself was. A single wooden desk sat in the middle, one chair on both sides of it; with simple maroon walls all around. There were no bookcases or strangely any places for light to come from, but the room was well lit. Tim, now looking very suspicious of what he had gotten himself into, was gestured toward the seat on the opposite side of the desk from Mike. As he in turn took his seat, he set he leaned forward on his desk and assembling the pyrimid of doom with his fingers.