Anya kept her eyes down in polite silence. She was furious. That man on the first floor had deliberately led her into the wrong place, it was so annoying!

"If I can choose my own desk, then there isn't a problem," Hunter said glibly before sliding down in her seat. Why hadn't anyone just SAID that? They'd made such a mess about where she sat and where she worked, and now she'd been made to look the fool in front of her new boss.

Hunter... was not pleased.

Moira Adrastreia Demitrakos walked in the Conference Room with her usual attire, a dark violet dress that reached down to her legs, and stylish black boots which bore several decorations. Beads and amulets and necklaces and fancy bracelets hung down from her neck and wrists, wearing matching purple earrings to go along with everything. A small gold and black striped purse was being carried from her shoulder, but the one thing that made her stand out from the rest of the clothes was a transparent, bubble-like shape around her head.

She hadn't planned to put the Bubble-Head Charm on herself at first, but just seeing the sort of environment she was in... she put on a look of disgust.

What kind of place was this?! Disgusting... revolting... rotten, she expected more from the famous Daily Prophet. Was she late? People were already down in their seats. But no, NO. This woman didn't care at all. She had spent a whole seven minutes trying to repair that sofa near that entrance of theirs because it did not look... appealing. At all.

AND WHAT WAS THIS?! The meeting table... the table was scarred. Or clawed. Whatever it was, it definitely looked damaged. Ew. Ew. Ew. It took her exactly seven steps to get to the nearest seat, and no she didn't introduce herself at first, but immediately took out a bottle of Mrs. Scower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover and started scrubbing with a tissue in circular motions in front of her. There weren't any magical mess... but she wanted clean. Clean. CLEAN. Were her own workers clean?

Was it rude? She was cleaning their table, she didn't find it rude at all. Moira would scrub this table 7 times... or 14... or 21... or 28... or 35... maybe even 42... no, 49. Definitely 49.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Lockhartian

"Oh! Perfect!" she said, nodding, it actually wasn't perfect. The irony.

Sienna will have a talk with Enrico soon. Yes.

Just a little bit oblivious to Sienna's sarcasm... all right, absolutely oblivious to her sarcasm, Rico continued with his rather broad grinning. He liked meeting new people, hiring new people, mixing the place up.. ah, what could be the problem with that?

Quote:

Originally Posted by Obi-Wan K'Lari

Arjuna watched as the man came in, surprised at his easiness of manner and open, joyful persona. When he placed his stack of papers on the chair at the head of the table, she realized that this would be the Head. The Boss. The...Editor, was it not? She smiled nervously as he looked at her, trying to repress a giggle at the odd expression on his face. She had never seen a Sri Lankan man with that expression before. She was just trying to decide whether it was alright to speak out of turn when the man address her. "Oh, ah...yes. I am an photographer." Her nervousness in front of the Editor was apparent in her voice, and it made her English even worse-if that was possible.

It was then that Arjuna realized she hadn't introduced herself to her boss. How rude of her! How disrespectful! "Oh, I am being so vely, vely, sorry!" Oh. No. She mispronounced something! She was going to have to relax. People on this side of the world were much kinder to employees. So she had read. "My name is 'Arjuna Dilini Fonseka'. I have...the pleasure...to meet you, sir." She placed her hands together and bowed her head in apology. Hopefully, he would not hold it against her.

He was still rather cheerful as the new photographer introduced herself and Rico immediately picked up on an accent. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Miss... Fonseka," he politely nodded. Hopefully he'd pronounced her name correctly.

"Where are you from, may I inquire?" he added curiously. "I used to ah, work in International Cooperation..." so he had a reason to be nosy. Yeah.

Quote:

Originally Posted by miss.weasley23

Ivy walked into the Conference Room, awkwardly peeking around the door. It seemed like she was late. The person speaking took a pause, and she took advantage of it. "Umm...sorry I'm late. A certain wizard on the first floor pointed me in the wrong direction." She kept her eyes down and took her seat.

And another new hire! Fantastic! Rico rested his elbows on the table in front of him and smiled at the other hire. "Hi there! Are you... uh..." he glanced down at his papers and looked back up. "You would be in either Lifestyle or News, am I right?"

Fifty-fifty shot there, unless she was the other Photographer...didn't look like it though. And what did she mean by 'first floor'? The Daily Prophet only had... one floor... weird.

Quote:

Originally Posted by dingDong

Moira Adrastreia Demitrakos walked in the Conference Room with her usual attire, a dark violet dress that reached down to her legs, and stylish black boots which bore several decorations. Beads and amulets and necklaces and fancy bracelets hung down from her neck and wrists, wearing matching purple earrings to go along with everything. A small gold and black striped purse was being carried from her shoulder, but the one thing that made her stand out from the rest of the clothes was a transparent, bubble-like shape around her head.

She hadn't planned to put the Bubble-Head Charm on herself at first, but just seeing the sort of environment she was in... she put on a look of disgust.

What kind of place was this?! Disgusting... revolting... rotten, she expected more from the famous Daily Prophet. Was she late? People were already down in their seats. But no, NO. This woman didn't care at all. She had spent a whole seven minutes trying to repair that sofa near that entrance of theirs because it did not look... appealing. At all.

AND WHAT WAS THIS?! The meeting table... the table was scarred. Or clawed. Whatever it was, it definitely looked damaged. Ew. Ew. Ew. It took her exactly seven steps to get to the nearest seat, and no she didn't introduce herself at first, but immediately took out a bottle of Mrs. Scower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover and started scrubbing with a tissue in circular motions in front of her. There weren't any magical mess... but she wanted clean. Clean. CLEAN. Were her own workers clean?

Was it rude? She was cleaning their table, she didn't find it rude at all. Moira would scrub this table 7 times... or 14... or 21... or 28... or 35... maybe even 42... no, 49. Definitely 49.

Speaking of weird, along came a woman who could not possibly be part of the Daily Prophet photo, layout, or writing staffs. Not possible. Just look at her!

Rico's immediate thought was that the woman now scrubbing the conference table was a gypsy separated from her caravan, between the bubble around her head and the pounds of jewelry weighing her down.

His second thought was that she had been Confunded into thinking she was a House Elf, though he quickly dismissed that idea because the Prophet clearly hadn't been cleaned in..... well, centuries, and why would anyone waste time Confunding someone else to clean the place?

The Editor cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure how to address the odd woman. "Excuse me," he spoke up with a befuddled expression. "Can I help you?"

Help you find your way back to your caravan, he meant. Not help you clean the table. Oh no. Rico left the household chores to... whoever did those sort of things. It wasn't a man's job, after all.

"Bonjour!" A female's voice with a thick french accent called as the door practically BURST open. A woman standing at 5'9'' (She's actually 5'7'', though heels do make a gal tall) with chocolate brown hair tied into a ponytail, her long bangs covering a little of her eyesight. She wore a white tight dress with a square neckline that was knee-high, reached to halfway to her arms and was beautifully flattering her figure. She wore long necklaces and one large silver bangle on her right hand while the left was adorned with a beautifully expensive watch.

With her head raised high and her shoulders squared, she rose her brow at everyone in the room, eyeing each and every one of them, studying them quickly. As a photographer, she always loved looking at people's expressions when they looked at her. She was beautiful, of course! Moving her bangs aside, she smiled. "I am zorry I am late. I am well aware of zat," she spoke with a thick french accent. "I 'ad somesing to work wiz and I apologize. Now... who iz ummm en charge?"

The heavy scent of perfume mingled with an almost nostril burning stench of alcohol invaded the conference room. Unable to control himself, Ian Hoshino let out a loud sneeze not before he could insert a large hand into his robes and pull out a handkerchief.

Gently squeezing at his nose with it, the man of mixed heritage gazed at the--woman, yes, for it was a woman--scrubbing the table.


In the middle of a meeting.

A new female employee(?). Scrubbing their long used and traditional of the Prophet table. During a meeting.

He sent a pleading look at Enrico, hoping that he would take care of this mess. Clearly, the man on the first floor had sent this one their way as well? A little smirk invaded his face as he shoved the handkerchief into an inside pocket. There was French in the air--in a matter of speaking.

En Charge.

Nodding at Enrico, Ian scoffed. "That would be the man you're looking for."

Jane was hyperventilating a little. She had entered the building behind the expensive looking woman in white and promptly felt like she was in the wrong place. Completely the wrong place. The baby blue satin shirt she wore suddenly seemed like a terrible idea. TERRIBLE. She broke into a cold sweat and ducked into a bathroom to run the cold tap for a while and splash it on her face. Jane tightened the belt around her middle and looked down at her plain black pants and the black satin pumps encasing her feet. Oh my gosh.

Jane stared at herself in the mirror, willing herself not to get blotchy. Nooooo blotchy. She whirled around and hurried into a stall, tugging off half a roll of loo paper and heading back to the mirror. She dampened some of the paper and used it on her face, hoping it would cool her down. It's fine. You can do this. You'll be great. Oh yes. Why hellloooooo there hot stuff!

She made faces at the mirror and dabbed at her face some more. She froze for a second and cautiously lifted one arm up, eyes widening slightly at the slightly damp patch where the satin sat against her armpit. Disaster! Why did I wear satin? In summer?! Panicking slightly, Jane wadded up some loo paper and stuffed it under the sleeve of her shirt in an attempt to get a little dry. She did the same with the other side and squeeezed her arms against her torso for a few moments, then she pulled the lengths of toilet paper out of her sleeve and flushed them down the loo. Its fine. It's fine. I just... won't lift up my arms. It will be fine.

She picked up her purse and took one more doubtful look in the mirror before heading out of the bathroom and into the conference room a bright and almost desperate smile plastered on her face as she hovered just inside the doorway. She was hard to miss really, being almost 5'9 and wearing heels that gave her another three inches on top of that, but Jane was at that moment, trying to fade into the background.

Cole Finnegan Parker, former Gringotts Wizard Bank assistant to the Head Goblin, walked into the conference room of the Daily Prophet headquarters without a doubt behind schedule. He was late, and he knew it. Wearing a plaid suit and a tie to match, the 6’2” male made his way without saying a single word toward a chair, which unfortunately didn’t have any wheels on it, and sat down next to a rather odd-looking woman who was scrubbing the table like crazy. And what exactly was up with the Bubble-Head Charm she had casted on herself? That was probably a mystery that would end up staying just that, a mystery.

Avoiding the scrubbing woman sitting next to him to the best of his ability, he straightened out his tie and looked around at the other faces of the room with his ice blue eyes. Some of the people he recognized from the paper, yet there were a fair share of those he did not know – they had to be new just like he was. So far things were completely different than how things were in the bank, which was perfectly alright with him. There wouldn’t (hopefully) be any little goblins running about muttering nonsense under their breaths, which was only some of the many reasons to why he applied for a job as a sports journalist.

Merlin, does she ever stop?! Cole asked himself, eyes slightly widening, when his attention managed to get back to that woman who was having a party scrubbing away at the table. Well, if he needed someone to come over to clean up his apartment, he would know who to owl…

Whoa...whoA...WHOA
Suddenly many things happened at once. And then his headache got worse by the acid smell of...something clean. Tristan looked up and saw a woman, cleaning. Who was she?? And why was she cleaning? Where in Merlin's pants did she get that bottle?
He was about to voice his confusion, to ask the woman, when this other woman, who Tristan recognizing her accent, assumed was french burst into the room.

With a frown, Tristan put his reading glasses on to get a better look at the new staffer. Is that a...bubble...? He squinted wondering if his eyesight was getting worse. Shaking his head to clear it, and regretting it fast - Ouch - he realised that this was probably the most active he'd seen the DP be. Huh.

There seemed to be alot of staffers of the female gender here. Tristan glanced over at Enrico and Ian, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. Oh, no wait...
As if on cue, a man walked in, seeming to be pretty together. Tristan jerked his head up in a greet.

Turning back to the scrubbing woman, he leaned closer and asked "You don't by any chance have some aspirin in that bag, do you?"

GeeGee started at the man who spoke to her, eyeing him in a way that seemed like she was undermining him. She squared her shoulders some more, if that was possible, and looked over at the man he nodded at with his head. GeeGee blinked. Was that little boy in charge? Honestly? GeeGee looked back at the asian looking man and laughed. "You muzt be joooking wiz me!" She exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. "Zat boy iz too little to be managinggg such a plaze like dis! It is... It is... c'est impossible! It iz impossibool!"

But before the man could answer her, GeeGee's nostrils flared, taking in the smell of something so strong and for once it wasn't her amazing perfume. "Ugh! What iz dat 'orrible smell?" She asked, placing to fingers on her nose and pressing them, her hand high. Her eyes then caught a woman, cleaning the desk. Really?! The maid JUST decided to clean this room?!

"What iz dis maid doing 'ere?! It iz no taim for cleaning zee desks! We are at work, no?" She questioneed the people around her, though when no one seemed to bother answer her, she decided to take a stand and talk to this woman AT ONCE! GeeGee made her way to her and when she stood behind her, she poked her rather roughly on the shoulder.

"Youuu aree not supposed to be 'ere, madame. You are supposed to be cleaning ze workerz officez while we are 'ere, eh."

"Zis is very bad management! What iz dis woman doing cleaning 'ere now?" She asked the man who the other man said seemed to be 'en charge'.

Feeling completely alarmed by the woman in white (the same one that had alarmed her earlier), and growing more alarmed by the second at the... well, the Frenchness of her, Jane eased herself along the wall and just stood there awkwardly.

The paint on this particular spot of wall was flaky and oddly, that set Jane's mind a bit at ease. She glanced around the table in front of her where such a variety of people were arranged and only then did she realise what the French woman was going on about. Jane herself, felt quite at ease with the not-quite-tidy and just-a-little-shabby look and feel of the place, but if someone else didn't feel the same, who was Jane to comment on it?

Who was Jane at all?

How zen.

"I'm Jane."

She hurriedly answered her own question, just in case the universe had a different answer. Then she promptly covered her mouth with both hands, startled at the volume her voice had come out at.

Of course, because of the satin and the sweaty factor, Jane kept her elbows firmly pressed against her torso so that it almost appeared like her arms started at the elbow if one were judging by her movements.

She pressed her back against the wall. It was safe and non-threatening and not at all like all the people at the table.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Lowlow

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjo---" Rico had turned to slowly greet the (high-maintence-looking) woman in white when....

Quote:

Originally Posted by Lowlow

GeeGee started at the man who spoke to her, eyeing him in a way that seemed like she was undermining him. She squared her shoulders some more, if that was possible, and looked over at the man he nodded at with his head. GeeGee blinked. Was that little boy in charge? Honestly? GeeGee looked back at the asian looking man and laughed. "You muzt be joooking wiz me!" She exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. "Zat boy iz too little to be managinggg such a plaze like dis! It is... It is... c'est impossible! It iz impossibool!"

But before the man could answer her, GeeGee's nostrils flared, taking in the smell of something so strong and for once it wasn't her amazing perfume. "Ugh! What iz dat 'orrible smell?" She asked, placing to fingers on her nose and pressing them, her hand high. Her eyes then caught a woman, cleaning the desk. Really?! The maid JUST decided to clean this room?!

"What iz dis maid doing 'ere?! It iz no taim for cleaning zee desks! We are at work, no?" She questioneed the people around her, though when no one seemed to bother answer her, she decided to take a stand and talk to this woman AT ONCE! GeeGee made her way to her and when she stood behind her, she poked her rather roughly on the shoulder.

"Youuu aree not supposed to be 'ere, madame. You are supposed to be cleaning ze workerz officez while we are 'ere, eh."

"Zis is very bad management! What iz dis woman doing cleaning 'ere now?" She asked the man who the other man said seemed to be 'en charge'.

....he was promptly INSULTED by the new hire.

"Begging your pardon, I am in charge. Rico Serio, Editor in Chief. Who might you be?" Rico stated bluntly, rising from his chair and folding his arms. He was NOT a boy, or a youth, or little. Granted, he wasn't as tall or snobbish as Hoshino over there, but hey, blame the genetics. He was still a MAN and would not have his manhood insulted by Frenchie.

There was a reason Americans didn't get along with her kind.

"And to answer your question: I do not know. The uh, Daily Prophet doesn't exactly have a maid." As if the budget could be squeezed any tighter for a maid - ha!

Rico tilted his head slightly at the woman in question and decided to just take a few steps over to the cleaning lady, quickly grabbing her arms to stop the furious scrubbing. "Miss...miss... er, who sent you here? Are you lost?"

He was genuinely concerned for the sanity of this gypsy/maid/bubble-headed girl. Rico was also slightly concerned for Tristan, who looked like he had just crawled from the pub to the Prophet. Poor chap. Been there, done that.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Celandine

"I'm Jane."

Rico looked up from trying to stop the cleaning lady, just in time to nod at another new hire. "Jane. Rico. I'm Rico, I mean, please have a seat. We'll just be starting the meeting.... uh, shortly..."

Once everyone had a chair and a place and the room stopped stinking like bleach, surely they'd get started.

Although Ian could just let it all go on and simply leave Rico to it--his recent promotion left him with a small sense of responsibility to fulfill. Small. Tiny. Minuscule. Almost invisible to the eye.

"We appreciate everyone's enthusiasm," began Hoshino loudly, pulling on his tailored robes. "However, there's a thin line between being eager and being insolent. Please, everyone, take a seat. Yes, including you, Jane. Don't make the boss flustered. There's an empty chair beside me. "

Because, for some reason that Ian Hoshino could just not possibly fathom, seats beside him were always left empty. Always.

In the meantime, Ian glanced over at Rico and Sienna before--picking at invisible dirt underneath his nails.

Hunter went from feeling like the bad kid on the playground to the new star employee as the new hires rolled in. Slowly, she slid back up in her seat, studying each person and neatly categorizing them according to her own inimitable system.

Probably only one who was anything close to 'let's-get-drinks-after-work' type friend. One very attractive man to stare at when the muse was at bay. And a couple who would be VERY fun to mess with when she was bored.

Hunter grinned at Rico, giving him the double thumbs up. "Boss man, I'm go for the staff meeting." She gave Hoshino a look to let him know that she was onto him. He left out so much.

Jane let out a little noise of dismay and embarassment into her fingers then slowly took them away from her mouth, offering a nervous but thankful little smile at Rico. Rico! She couldn't possibly call her boss by his first name!

"Thank you Mr. Serio, I'm sorry about being late, I got held u..."


And then another man was talking and Jane's voice disappeared. She jumped slightly when he spoke to her and wondered how on earth the boss could be flustered when she was the one that was so incredibly and obviously out of place.

"Be-beside you?" Jane swallowed and offered a tentatively confident smile, heading over to take the indicated seat. She placed her purse in her lap and waited nervously, shooting little glances at the man.

"I'm Jane." She repeated in a half-whisper. She offered her hand to shake in greeting and it was then, when she lifted her arm enough to do so, that a short length of loo paper was made visible peeking out of the sleeve at her now dry armpit, like a little flag proclaiming that satin had definitely been a bad idea.

Moira gave the man who asked for assistance a very stare full of intent, full of anger. She was on her 6th scrub--she was interrupted right before the 7th. This behavior was not acceptable. Instead, she ignored the rude man's question and continued to scrub slowly but with force. How could they work in a place like this?!

Were they human? Did they have lungs? Did they have eyes to see what mess they were living in? She shook her head, immediately hearing a French-like woman coming from the door. En charge? Yes, Moira too would have liked to know who was in charge of this. How inappropriate of them to not clean this place up. Hmph.

And then someone asking for aspirin on her 24th scrub. She glanced at this one, why would he ask for aspirin? Was his head hurting? Moira stared at the man curiously for a second, wondering if evil spirits were haunting this man's body. No she did not have aspirin, so she simply shook her head and went back to scrubbing.

scrubscrubscrub.

Yet on her 35th scrub, someone... MAID? And then in a second, Moira Adrasteia Demitrakos was poked. Touched.

She. Was. Touched.

Tilting her head, she gave a look at the woman that clearly meant danger. Her personal bubble. Shattered. "Keep your bloody fingers to yourself, please." She did not look like a maid. IMPOSSIBLE. But before she could actually attack her... this other woman blatantly announced her name. And her arms. Her arms had been grabbed by someone else's--she wrinkled her nose and cringed.

Did this man stop her cleaning? DID THIS MAN WANT SOAP BUBBLES POURING OUT OF HIS MOUTH? "Donttouchmedontouchmedonttouchme." She quietly ordered the man, wanting to hex him this instant. Who sent her? Wasn't it obvious? No? "I was sent here by a man named Rico Serio. Owled, to be exact." She just wanted her arms to be free, was she a prisoner now?

"I'm the new Layout Editor." Now would you please take your filthy little hands off me?

"Eeeehh! Sooo touchy! I don't even know why I touched you." GeeGee commented, making a disgusted face with her face and brushing her hands together.


GeeGee turned to look at the man who spoke with that horrible American accent. Ugh! Really now? Her boss was an American man? Un enfant Américain?! This was preposterous! But GeeGee had moved from France to here for a challenge, and working with an American is a challenge.

She raised his nose up in the air, french and proud! "I am GeeGee LaFargue!" She told him with a snobby air. He didn't know who she was?! Really now, people should read Le Prophète more! " I waz zee head photographe in Le Prophète, but I quiit!" GeeGee then waved her hand, as if telling him to not even speak after her. She had gotten so used to bossing people around back in France, that she didn't realize that she was now under this little man now.

GeeGee blinked. "Yoou 'ave no maid? Oh mon Dieu! At Le Prophète, we 'ad maidz to clean aftah our work. But zen again, zis place iz no Le Prophète." Sighing, she crossed her arms and waited for the man to reply until...


She raised her brows at the one who pointed her about the little man. "Inzolent? I sink not, monsieur! I am simply pointing out your flawz in your work areeaa. Zis is 'ow we improove each ozah better, no? I agree." She smiled, ignoring the little man and walking over to an empty chair that was in front of the man. Her eyes then looked over at a girl who had earlier announced her name. GeeGee looked at her and cringed slightly. Who wears satin in this hot summer?

Ugh, the English.

Why did she come here again?

Hunter Bones was looking at him. Not that he was surprised. If he were to be honest, his presence alone commanded attention. It wasn't like there was much competition in the room.

It also helped that there were only a few males the female employees could focus on. Raising a questioning brow at her, Hoshino once more tugged at his robes uncomfortably shifting in his seat as Jane took a seat at last.

And introduced herself yet again. Brow still raised and possibly remaining in that position for as long as this circus of a meeting lasted, Ian nodded at her slowly. "Yes, Jane. I know," he said slowly, brown eyes sailing from her hand towards the inside of her arm.

Hello, loo paper. It was teasing him; like a rather flat tongue of tackiness. Clearing his throat, he leaned forward, his lips hovering near her ear. "Not to be offensive but there's loo paper coming out from your arm hole. I'd keep my arms down if I were you."

There. That had been rather polite, he thought as he pulled away with a deadpan expression. He hadn't even mentioned how satin was just a terrible terrible terrible choice for a girl like her.

And the alcohol infused freak was their new Layout Editor. Lovely. Enrico just did such a wonderful job at hiring. Just. Lovely.

"Welcome to the team!" greeted Ian overly enthusiastic and clapped his hands twice. "You'll just love it here. Wait until you see the break room. The very epitome of cleanliness but, I insist. Take a seat."

Grinning, he nodded cordially at that sweet French lady. Sweet. "With all due respect, mademoiselle, I have no flaws."

Now pipe down, woman before Rico has a moment.

I Can't believe I just did that!

Jane admonished herself when she realised that she'd introduced herself twice. And this man with the eyebrows that lived closer to his supercilious hairline than his judgemental eyes still had not offered his name. Jane got it. He didn't want her to know him. He was clearly somewhere 'up there' in the scheme of things, while she was just an annoying anklebiter or something.

And then she was hit by a tomato blush of epic proportions, every visible piece of her skin joining in for the fun of it. He was breathing on her ear, had she judged him wrong? Maybe he liked the satin and was just being rude because secre...

She let out an audible gasp and, since he had not taken her hand to shake it in greeting, Jane dropped her arm and squeezed both of her arms against her body. Loo paper! Betrayer!

Jane looked back at him in alarm and embarassment, taking in the completely uncompassionate expression and flatering under it. Discretely, she attempted to tuck the loose piece of paper back into her sleeve so she could fish out out later.

It took some wriggling and far more blushing, but she managed it and finally sat quiet and subdued, not looking at anyone and hoping that the meeting would be finished quickly and no other alarming events would occur.

Rico didn't get flustered. He did not. He had very good control of his emotions and temper, and right now, he was just a bit confused.

Perhaps..... next time he would seek Sienna's input when it came to hiring? Heck, even Hoshino could have maybe warned him off from offering Frenchie a position.

"Mr. Serio... was my father," Rico blurted at Jane, still trying to contain the gypsy-like woman. "Please. Call me Rico."

And wasn't his name quite popular at the moment, coming from the mouth of the scrubber lady. Fantastic. HE had hired her. Merlinmerlinmerlinmerlin. Was this why the Minsitry had never promoted him? Rico couldn't control his own employees? He saw the best in people even when it was just on a paper application?

Promptly dropping Cleaning Lady's arms like her skin could scald him, Rico took a step back from the table and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Ms...." what was her last name? Greek, right? "Demitrakos."

Thank Merlin for a healthy international background.

"Ms. Demitrakos," Rico stated again, more loudly this time and without a trace of his cheerful smile from earlier. "I hired you because your application showed an eye for design and a certain amount of attention to detail. However, this... obsession with details cannot extend to the cleanliness of the Prophet Headquarters."

He promptly turned on his heel and strolled back to the head of the table to stand behind his chair. "Sit, please. If you wish to clean and disinfect the rest of your workspace, be my guest. But I ask that you do this on your own time since this is a busy newspaper that operates independently of any germs or diseases."

Perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned diseases; ah well. Honesty was a good policy and if she was going to quit because the place wasn't clean enough or WHATEVER it would be better to happen sooner than later.

Rico sighed and glanced at Ian, nodding just once to show that he was grateful the other man had spoken up. Now to deal with Frenchie Le High Maintenance. That would be a joy.

"GeeGee LaFargue, how lovely. I have heard of you and your prowess at photography..." amongst other things, "and I'm sure you'll enjoy working under Hoshino here." Rico tilted his head to indicate the man sitting beside him. "And ah....." just a bit of a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, "if you happen to find a fine maid willing to come into Headquarters, do let me know. I'm sure Ms. Demitrakos would appreciate it."

That about settled everyone now, right? At least the reporter with the manly name was ready to go. Whoooo. One hire he wouldn't come to regret.... maybe.

Oh please... Stop with the shouting!
Gah. Now the mademoiselle was having a tantrum, and this was not good at all if an argument erupted. Do it on your own time, when I'm not around! He thought, removing his reading glasses and put them in his pocket.

And that girl over there was called Jane. Good to know.

Now Tristan was really hoping the cleaning lady had some aspirin, this was getting to be too much for him. Why couldn't everyone just...calm down. As he saw the woman stop her scrubbing and regard Tristan, he smiled akwardly but sighed tiredly when she shook her head. Great. "Thanks anyways..." he mumbled, leaning back into his chair.
Not that it seemed to be helping that much, Tristan resumed his temple-massaging, closing his eyes as he waited for the chaos to settle.

And now the seriousness that is Enrico began. If he couldn't calm the riot, who could?
Surely now the meeting could begin. Please. Tristan wanted to get the bloody hell out of there and drink a gallon of water. He'd heard water was good for headaches, though he wasn't entirely sure it would work. Massage, massage, massage...

If ever there was a day to come to work this seemed to be it. Egypt hated to admit but she was paying more attention to her husband than she was some of the new employees as Nathan's hair was doing something she feared that bothersome mirror had told him to do, and she didn't like it. Well she didn't like that mirror of his to be truthful, but he wouldn't get rid of it. So all she could do was try to influence his appearance away from that house.

She was pulling out her wand to smooth down his hair when the strangest looking woman she had ever seen walked in. Now Egypt always said that everyone had to find their own style but this new arrival looked as if she was wearing everything she owned. The amount of jewelry she had on looked as if it weighed more than Egypt herself and she couldn't help but to stare at her.

And to top it all off the poor dear started scrubbing the table as if there was no tomorrow and her life's goal was to see her dying face in the reflection of that table.

Egypt honestly tried not to dislike anyone. It just wasn't in her nature, she felt horrible when she didn't like someone, but Ian was a special case. She didn't know what it was about him that bothered her so...well yes she did. She was just too polite to even think it. She thought it was rather presumptuous of him to assume to speak for Sienna who was more than capable of speaking up for herself and inserting her authority.

This meeting was off to a great start.

Oh dear. Now that nervous little..well ample shaped woman was a nervous wreck and she had toilet paper poking out of her armpit. Egypt would have to stop by her desk and take her to lunch or something. She looked as if she could use a friend and Egypt loved making friends. She had left the chair next to Ian open as she didn't want to sit beside the man, and the chair was no occupied by Jane. "Are you alright Jane?" she asked the woman when she seemed to calm down.

Her mouth dropped open at Ian. She couldn't believe that he would embarrass that poor woman like that. He was such a...doodoo head. She couldn't think of a worse name, but she was sure her daughter Paris could have helped her. He was so callous and heartless. The woman was clearly nervous and he could have just let her sit there and not said anything about the toilet paper. Egypt was sure the woman was well aware that she had toilet paper in her armpits.

The poor dear. Her day just wasn't starting off good.

And if she thought he couldn't top himself he did. Clapping like a possessed man at a Weird Sister's concert. She really had to keep herself from doing a tongue locking curse on him and teaching him some humility. Which she was sure everyone could agree he could use.

Now the toilet paper lady was doing some sort of wiggling dance in her seat. Egypt tried to keep from laughing but the tiniest giggle escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth quickly before another was released.

Was this a prank or something. All these new people had to be a prank someone was playing on Rico. This seemed too surreal to be real. She leaned back in her chair to finishing watching the show. It was the best staff meeting they had ever had and she was so glad she had been early for it.

Rico always made her smile. Even when he was trying to be all bossman on everyone. Which it looked as if he was going to have to be a tougher boss than he had planned on. She gave him a big smile and a nod of encouragement. The man looked as if he could use a coffee and a hug. It was a good thing she had all her articles turned in. It seemed she was going to be spending her morning welcoming the new hires and giving Rico a pep talk. It was going to be a long day, she mused.

GeeGee's eyes scanned the room to look at her new workers. Why was this room such a mess? Why were they all so... so unfashionable? For goodness sake, did no one ever pick up a magazine? She scrunched her nose, displeased with them but eventually she let it go. She did choose to work for the English. For once, she could try and be... nice?

Haaa....Haaaa.

Her blue eyes fell on the woman who had paper in her pits and the man who she liked to think spoke french. She grinned, watching him as he leaned into her and murmured something GeeGee couldn't hear very well. Her lips twitched when she saw the girl flush with embarrassment and squeeze her armpits to her body. Ahhh, silly girl should've checked her pits before she came here.

She then turned her gaze to the man who was grinning at her. She smirked at his remark, put one leg over the other, placed her hands on the desk and leaned in. GeeGee rose her brow at him, amused that he thought he had no flaws. "Oh reaallyy, monsieur? It seems we agree, because I well 'ave no flawz. I am parfait! Puuurrffeccct."


GeeGee looked at the little itty bitty american man, her eyes slightly narrowing. "Of course you would 'ave 'eard about it! You would be foolish if did not, monsieur." Her eyes then went back to the man named Hoshino. So she would be working under him? He looked old enough. GeeGee smiled sweetly. "Of course, I will search for one. But... zen again zat woman could qualify, no?" She grinned smugly, her eyes looking at the crazy lady and back at Rico with a look that was daring him.

She should stop before she'd loose his job.

"We could start zis meeting now, no?"

What on earth was happening here?

Ana eyed all the new employees (she'd never get to remember thier names nd who was who and who worked where, she was BOUND to get it all mixed up, she always did... so far, out of the 'newbies', she only knew Hunter) with some surprise. They all seemed rather... unique.

Wait, so this was everyone, right? Or was someone still missing?

"Rico, I'f we're all here, I think it would be a good idea to start and get everyone organised," she suggested, thinking that if this waiting was prolongued for much longer, pandemonium would break out. And they really didn't need that.

Considering Serio was steering the meeting in the right direction, Ian Hoshino did his best not to provoke any more conversation from the new hires. It was damn near impossible to do so, however, when GeeGee decided to grace everyone with her speech once more.

Parfait? "You are...a yogurt cup?" murmured Ian with a raised brow. "Très bien, Mademoiselle LaFargue. You are a flawless yogurt cup."

Clearing his throat, from inside his robes he procured a rather large notepad and a self inking quill. It was best the meeting started lest he be forced to keep teasing Mademoiselle Parfait.