The offices of the Neurosciences and Psychology Research Department of Wayne Corporations was drastically under-maintained, in the opinion of every employee who worked there. Unlike other branches of the multi-billion business, the sector's small number of employees rarely found something that could be marketed en-mass as with those in Computer Technology. Neither were they as widely regarded as the even more niche branches such as Cancer Research facility or Tropical Disease Treatment Research. Of course, they were the ones typically dealing with the animal rights activists over their use of mice, and the first ones to be labeled as "cold and inhuman" when researching the biological aspects of particular emotions. Coupled with the fact that Wayne Incorporated itself hadn't contributed to any real major psychological breakthroughs as of recent, and one would find themselves with an entire sector of frustrated company employees constantly getting the worse end of the stick despite their best efforts.
Realism aside, Dr. Martha Cates stepped into the role as the department's sole supervisor with grand expectations. Seven years of college schooling was not something she intended to go unused, nor any of the hard work of climbing the ranks to supervisor at her old workplace (the experience from which being the sole reason she landed her new job).
Two years were spent in increasing anger as research projects consistently failed to meet expectations. Two years had done little to cool Dr. Cates' temperament, and a lot to demotivate the moral of her charges. Two years went by before Bruce Wayne employed a British researcher to fly to Gotham and work for his company.
The man was not what most had expected, or even hoped for. Living up to the English Gentleman stereotype, the office quickly learnt of their new co-worker's fondness of tea. Unlike the stereotype, while he had a lot more teeth than seemed normal at first, they were clearly well-maintained and not yellowing. Disappointingly, he hadn't met the Queen.
The man they eventually learned was named Jervis Tetch (courtesy of Dr. Cates occasional fondness of shouting across rooms) was not exactly what they had envisioned as a researcher either. When news of his employment had reached the local gossips, Dr. Cates saw numbers and trophies flashing before her eyes - a fresh face to look at everything with new eyes and churn out new ideas from old, stale ones!
Safe to say, this was not the case.
Much to disappointment of … well, everyone really (who wouldn't give for Dr. Cates to genuinely smile? She might even shut up for more than five minutes), Dr. Tetch had been employed with a particular focus on certain project. One that not seem to involve anyone else.
Given the miniscule number of employees within the department, it was not uncommon for multiple researchers to work together one large, over-reaching project. If such methods had discouraged individual research, it certainly gave back in the form of a close-knit community within the confines of their cheaply furnished offices. The arrival of Tetch, however, threw his new co-workers for a loop with his inability to communicate. Two weeks had quickly passed following his arrival before anyone had thought to go down to the drafty offices on the first floor and check. Asking Dr. Cates had never been an option, least one wanted to risk seeing her breathe fire by displaying a concern for something other than work.
The two weeks following Tetch's first meeting with his co-workers had been somewhat entertaining (he admitted to honestly thinking he was the only one in the building at some points). The shadow that was the department's supervisor rarely strayed far Tetch or Tetch's office, constantly looking for signs of some wondrous breakthrough, or incredible invention for observing brainwaves or whatnot.
It took about two months of Tetch being under Mr. Wayne's employ before Dr. Cates started snapping at the man at every opportunity. Jervis's fellow co-workers began giving his office a clear berth as it became nicknamed 'The Dragon's Den' for how frequently Dr. Cates would haunt the place, looking for the amazing outcomes they had all built up in their minds.
Anger felt by their supervisor quickly became their own. This Englishman was here to help them, so why wasn't he? Where were the results? Did he not see how Cates treated them, because of his inactivity? What was he doing anyway, that kept him from helping out anyone else with their projects?
Invitations to lunch ceased. Conversations by the water cooler cut off at the sight of the blond middle-aged man. Assistants stop coming by the office to offer a hand organizing the never-ending mess of papers littering the lab's hallway.
Compliments became criticisms. Friendly passing smiles were directed elsewhere. Inquiries about his origins turned into snarky questions of his capabilities and 'jokes' about his teeth and roman nose. Greetings became one-sided, before dying altogether. No-one stopped by to say goodbye at the end of the day, nor acknowledged his presence in the communal kitchen when he made tea.
Nothing looked to change.