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The journalists of the Daily Prophet and other Wizarding publications were given special invites to join Lord Borr's Celebration. They have a special seating area, just to the right of the main dais. Their tables are on a smaller raised platform, giving them the best views of the speeches and other guests as they arrive.
OOC: This area is set aside for Daily Prophet staff, but anyone is welcome to RP here.
Never mind the souvenirs. If those things were as awful as the t-shirt then she wouldn't want any. And, where was Plymouth with their appetizers?
Was that not a task entitled to him?
Either way, Sienna wanted to check out the Daily Prophet seats first. And she was NOT let down by their location. It was simply the best. Ian will be glad. She was simply waiting for the time when this celebration was all over and she could return home. Honestly.
But still, she wanted to know who this Borr person was, especially since he managed to call himself a 'Lord', so, that's why she was here.
This is for Ama and Karla. Though anyone else is welcome to join. :]
Wowza!
Emmanuelle began to chortle with mirth at the preposterous t-shirts as soon as they were a respectful distant away from the security folk. The entire place was slowly but surely beginning to fill up, and by the time they were close to what seemingly was the press box, Leroy's case of the giggles was very nearly done.
In comparison to the rest, the seats were quite well-positioned, which she supposed was the point of it all; after all, this was press and while there was not really such thing as bad publicity, surely the Lord Borr of sorts wouldn't want the Prophet ripping him apart in that trademark and textual passive aggressive way of theirs.
The press box was quite empty, for the exception of a pretty, older woman who looked both eager and exasperated. One of Ian's co-workers, surely? Emmanuelle sent him a questioning look, before addressing herself to the woman, as she took seat. "Hello," Called the brunette, politely.
Ama!Nabs IS NAMED MINHO & Is SO Black Panther Right Now
Ian stiffly held out the t-shirt away from his body as they walked towards the press box. Now that they were away from the security-check, Hoshino's grimace of displeasure was left unchecked; at least for the moment it took to reach the press box. Once there he was quick to amend things by straightening up and pursing his lips at the sight of a familiar golden head. Things had grown unexpectedly awkward. He knew that this was the first time he was presenting Emmanuelle to his colleagues and in a sense, to the rest of Wizarding World.
He watched Emmy out of the corner of his eyes, raising a brow at her pointed looks. Ian looked away and cleared his throat looking slightly modest. "You're always the first to arrive, aren't you, Sienna?" he said as a conversation starter his brown eyes fleeting to Emmanuelle for a moment before going back to Knoll's face. "Have you been here long?"
And then, out of nowhere, if nowhere happened to be Ian's arm, was a pretty brunette greeting Sienna.
Her eyes went from the woman to Ian, and she kind of smirked. Besides everything Ian had forgotten to tell Sienna, he'd also failed to inform her that he was bringing his...girlfriend? Fiance? Whatever the woman was to Ian.
"Hello, Miss...," she started to say, with a smile, "I'm sorry, I think I didn't catch your name." This was mostly directed to Ian, because he was the one who needed to make the introductions. Tsk.
Sienna's attention was completely on Ian now that he was speaking, "It seems to be that way, though I think it would look better if our writers arrive early as well," given the fact that they were going to be the ones writing the stories, no? For the photographers she didn't care much, she could easily do their work.
"No, not too long, just a few minutes. I've been admiring the great view they gave us for this event, though, it would be even greater if there were a few of those t-shirts around." Yes, Sienna was NOT going to hide how displeased she was with such a gift. If one could call it a gift.
Emmanuelle was not entirely oblivious to Ian's mild discomfort but pretended otherwise. It would not be proper to point this out during company, and so she kept a small polite smile on her face. "Emmanuelle Leroy, pleased to meet you." She supplied, when Ian failed to introduce her to someone who obviously was an acquaintance of his, or a mere co-worker at the very least.
Then Ian and the woman whose name was apparently Sienna began to discuss all the Daily Prophet garbage that in private would make Emmy yawn at best and fall asleep at worse. Keeping a politely interested expression on her face, the woman tuned out both of the journalists and instead busied herself with staring at the Hogwartians seats with a curiosity.
When would they start to misbehave? "I think the t-shirts are quite ghastly," Emmanuelle said, ever the opinionated person she should perhaps not be.
Ama!Nabs IS NAMED MINHO & Is SO Black Panther Right Now
He breathed out a chuckle; half amused half irritated. Honestly, Ian didn't understand what was going on with his writers as of late. He liked to blame the fact that they were mostly women and that, perhaps, they were currently suffering from some kind of hormonal imbalance. It was impossible to understand the opposite sex even if he had been working under and with them for years.
Even now that he was engaged, he didn't even pretend to understand them. It wasn't like Emmanuelle was like any common woman anyways. In fact, she was infinitely more complicated and hard to please. Just what kind of life was he setting himself up for? He was a masochist. Absolutely.
"You can have mine," offered Hoshino, secretly hoping Sienna would take him up on his offer. It was very unlikely so he merely dropped it on the nearest seat, declaring it his with one act. Aware that proper introductions had to be made--introductions that were undoubtedly going to make him awkward and miserable--Ian Hoshino cleared his throat noisily. It wasn't a charming or cool move. It never was when it came to those throaty kind of noises. He was blushing before he even got a word out.
"This is Sienna Knoll, Emm--anuelle," he said, faltering at his fiancé name. "She's the co-editor of the Prophet. Emmanuelle is my fiancé," finished Ian looking at his shoes, the grass, the chairs, the distant hot balloon he was going to escape on, perhaps. "Yes."
Yes. Yes. She was. And she was going to show off her ring, wasn't she?
Mmmhmmm. So, Emmanuelle Leroy. Well, Sienna was entirely curious at the moment, but she her curiosity relied more on the Lord Borr person than the woman next to Ian. Clearly.
"Glad to meet you as well, I'm Sienna Knoll." Like, Ian had said, and since he'd mention her position then there was no need for her to say it again. Then again, Emmanuelle must have guessed that she worked for the Daily Prophet as well, of course, she seemed like a very bright person. And...opinionated, which was something the blonde quite enjoyed. Like that Mr. Kururugi. "I completely agree." Plus, it gave the whole gathering a Muggle twist, which shouldn't happen.
Ha. No. Sienna smirked. "But, no, you ought to keep it, Ian, it is a gift." A very unwanted one, that is. Well, she wasn't wearing her t-shirt, why would she want another one?
But, yes, the blonde had guessed correctly. Fiance. "Oh, I didn't know...," like many of the things he'd failed to inform her, "...well, I guess congratulations are in order, both of you." Though, who would want to marry Ian?
Ian's embarrassment and discomfort could be interpreted in many ways, none of which pleased Emmanuelle all that much. But at least he'd acknowledged their engagement which was something she'd been not hoping, but expecting, he'd politely not mention. In truth, she might have considered his currently awkward state as charming and endearing, but they were not alone and thus it made her feel strangely helpless and lonely.
The only sign that something might have been bothering was the slight and brief purse of her plump, pink lips. After all, Emmanuelle Leroy had been raised to be a lady, a socialite, so showing discomfort for the general public to see was out of the question, and as a result, the rest of her face remained quite serene.
Sienna Knoll's less that enthusiastic tone she'd used to congratulate them could, too, be interpreted in many ways, but just like with Ian, Emmy pretended to be oblivious of it all. "Thank you," She answered placidly, as her left hand strategically placed herself on top of her right one, in order for the ring to be visible. It was all she needed to do to show it off, for Leroy liked to believe that such a jewel spoke and showed itself. "For how long have you and Ian known each other then? I'm surprised I did not meet you sooner, Miss Knoll." No, not really. Ian hated this sort of events and she'd truly never had a reason before to visit him at work.
Ama!Nabs IS NAMED MINHO & Is SO Black Panther Right Now
Ian smiled thinly. The t-shirts could hardly be considered gifts. They were definitely more like subtle insults to his person. He continued his small smile even as Sienna spoke. Out of courtesy and as a result of being educated by his Father about respect, Hoshino inclined his head slightly in a very modest bow.
"It's a little but..." Hoshino cleared his throat. "I'm private about my personal life. I hope you understand." He was cut off by Emmanuelle and that smile that could go both ways reappeared. It was a perfectly normal question that she had asked but Ian knew better. He was never going to hear the end of it. "We've worked together for several yeas know," he said and nodded. "I'm not sure of the amount though. Sienna may, though."
And....oh, look at that, the place was filling up with...more little students. Well, she didn't mind the kids, truth be told, but Sienna couldn't figure out why they were invited to this gathering.
The woman smiled in return as if to say 'You're welcome', yet she didn't voice it. Instead, her eyes wandered for a moment towards the ring. Breathtaking ring, of course, worthy of such a fiance, correct? Yes, Sienna didn't care much. She was caring more about getting the right spot in which her hair will seem even more golden than the sun.
And, yes, she nodded as Ian spoke of his private life as...private. She understood, for she kept hers just as private.
"Yes, ever since I started working on the Prophet...which was...over five years now, I believe," she said, tilting her head to one side. Yes, when she met Ian she was a Section Editor, then Rico became the Editor, and then Ian did, over five years, give or take, "I don't know exactly." True.
She smiled at Emmanuelle, "Well, it's not so surprising if one prefers to keep their personal life separated from their work." And she completely did the same, except she had a picture of her husband somewhere along her desk, or the bookshelf behind it, the blonde couldn't recall.
More and more kids were beginning to occupy the seats designed for the students, and more and more was Emmanuelle paying attention to them than to keep up with the idle small chat between Ian, Sienna and herself. Hogwarts students were not, however, the only ones arriving; guests that Emmy could guess were Ministry workers were arriving, too, and taking over the seats. Some of them were even younger than her own twenty-seven years old, and some of them were even old enough to be one of her grandparents.
The sound of Ian's voice plucked the woman back to reality, and she stared back at her companions with carefully practiced polite curiosity. They were discussing privacy and not mixing work with their actual lives and for God's sake, if this was how conversations went at the Prophet every single day it was no wonder why Ian's mood was so foul sometimes after work.
How eternally dull. Still, she managed to look interested. Leroy nodded along to what was being said in general, "Indeed. What is the point of mixing your personal life with work and sharing the joys of one with the other?" Indeed. "I wonder when the Lord Borr character is arriving. Do you reckon he's aware that muggle titles have no weight on the wizarding community?" Emmy doubted it.
Ama!Nabs IS NAMED MINHO & Is SO Black Panther Right Now
Emmanuelle's bluntness was a little jarring and enough to make Ian Hoshino chuckle in amusement. "I think the appropriate question is whether he cares or not," supplied the man as conversation. He too was aware of the pile of students and young people arriving. He was making a good point of ignoring them and their loud tones of voice. Just because it was an open space it didn't mean they needed to shout at the top of their longs, trying to talk over everyone.
"Our journalists seem a little late. Luckily, I always come prepared," he said and patted Emmanuelle's hand. "If you don't mind." Ian removed Emmy's hand from the crook of his elbow before stepping away from her. Standing on an empty space between the chairs, Hoshino reached into his robes. His arm soon disappeared past his elbow into a pocket.
The tinkling sound of metal against metal, filled his ears as his fingers struggled to grasp for the right item. "Ah! Here we go!" he said brightly, his fingers wrapping around a cylinder shape. Ian reached with both hands and procured, with some effort, a tripod.
"It's much easier this way," he explained glancing over at Emmanuelle and Sienna over his shoulder before setting up the tripod. Now if could only find his camera and everything else inside his pocket.
Make no eye contact. Make no eye contact. This is what Marshall Howe exercised whenever he found himself on the same place, alone, with his bosses. It was quite odd for this to happen as he was usually safely tuck inside the layout editors office, but it wasn't unheard of either; example of that was today.
Keeping his pale gaze trained anywhere but on the faces of Sienna Knoll and Ian Hoshino, the curly-haired lanky man murmured a quiet 'Good day' to his superiors, and placed himself around the second row of seats. It was not far away enough from Ian and Sienna for Howe's like, but it was all he got.
Gingerly, he placed the fantastically ugly blue shirt on his lap, and then glanced down to where all the unfortunate Hogwarts brats were gathering. But not before that there was a third person on the press box. A stranger of the female sort, with dark hair and a coat that he'd probably have to sell both of his eyes in order to be able to afford it.
Who on Circe's name was this? A new reporter? Surely not! The Daily Prophet quarters were already a mine of estrogen, they hardly needed any more female writers. When the woman gave him a pointed look, Howe merely nodded in silent greeting and focused on the students.
Keep your eyes on the brats. Keep your eyes brats, Howe.
More and more kids were beginning to occupy the seats designed for the students, and more and more was Emmanuelle paying attention to them than to keep up with the idle small chat between Ian, Sienna and herself. Hogwarts students were not, however, the only ones arriving; guests that Emmy could guess were Ministry workers were arriving, too, and taking over the seats. Some of them were even younger than her own twenty-seven years old, and some of them were even old enough to be one of her grandparents.
The sound of Ian's voice plucked the woman back to reality, and she stared back at her companions with carefully practiced polite curiosity. They were discussing privacy and not mixing work with their actual lives and for God's sake, if this was how conversations went at the Prophet every single day it was no wonder why Ian's mood was so foul sometimes after work.
How eternally dull. Still, she managed to look interested. Leroy nodded along to what was being said in general, "Indeed. What is the point of mixing your personal life with work and sharing the joys of one with the other?" Indeed. "I wonder when the Lord Borr character is arriving. Do you reckon he's aware that muggle titles have no weight on the wizarding community?" Emmy doubted it.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ama
Emmanuelle's bluntness was a little jarring and enough to make Ian Hoshino chuckle in amusement. "I think the appropriate question is whether he cares or not," supplied the man as conversation. He too was aware of the pile of students and young people arriving. He was making a good point of ignoring them and their loud tones of voice. Just because it was an open space it didn't mean they needed to shout at the top of their longs, trying to talk over everyone.
"Our journalists seem a little late. Luckily, I always come prepared," he said and patted Emmanuelle's hand. "If you don't mind." Ian removed Emmy's hand from the crook of his elbow before stepping away from her. Standing on an empty space between the chairs, Hoshino reached into his robes. His arm soon disappeared past his elbow into a pocket.
The tinkling sound of metal against metal, filled his ears as his fingers struggled to grasp for the right item. "Ah! Here we go!" he said brightly, his fingers wrapping around a cylinder shape. Ian reached with both hands and procured, with some effort, a tripod.
"It's much easier this way," he explained glancing over at Emmanuelle and Sienna over his shoulder before setting up the tripod. Now if could only find his camera and everything else inside his pocket.
Sienna could so easily laugh at the moment, "You know what? I actually have no idea who the man is or why does he want to be referred to as a 'Lord'." She gave a shrug. Mixed feelings about this she had. First, she was more than curious to know who the man was and what was his place within the Wizarding Community, and while Sienna had been living in England long enough to know its antics, she was still unfamiliar with a couple of them.
However, no matter how curious she could be, she knew that she'd be doing far more important things than being here waiting for the man. Who, by the way, was running late.
Then she eyed Ian get ready for...oh, yes, work, the kind of work he used to do a while ago. "I also have my camera with me, though I personally prefer quick shots," the ones that were slightly angled too, no tripods for her, "And, of course, some quill and paper, just in case." Just in case she thought something was worth a story, though she knew they had to write about this for sure, whether it had been interesting or not.
SPOILER!!: Mr. Howe
Quote:
Originally Posted by Oesed
Make no eye contact. Make no eye contact. This is what Marshall Howe exercised whenever he found himself on the same place, alone, with his bosses. It was quite odd for this to happen as he was usually safely tuck inside the layout editors office, but it wasn't unheard of either; example of that was today.
Keeping his pale gaze trained anywhere but on the faces of Sienna Knoll and Ian Hoshino, the curly-haired lanky man murmured a quiet 'Good day' to his superiors, and placed himself around the second row of seats. It was not far away enough from Ian and Sienna for Howe's like, but it was all he got.
Gingerly, he placed the fantastically ugly blue shirt on his lap, and then glanced down to where all the unfortunate Hogwarts brats were gathering. But not before that there was a third person on the press box. A stranger of the female sort, with dark hair and a coat that he'd probably have to sell both of his eyes in order to be able to afford it.
Who on Circe's name was this? A new reporter? Surely not! The Daily Prophet quarters were already a mine of estrogen, they hardly needed any more female writers. When the woman gave him a pointed look, Howe merely nodded in silent greeting and focused on the students.
Keep your eyes on the brats. Keep your eyes brats, Howe.
But, look at that!
An employee was walking towards them, "Good day, Marshall." She said, with a smile, and wondered slightly if perhaps Plymouth would wear such a t-shirt considering none of them seemed to have thought it appropriate to wear it. She may make Plymouth do so.
Her eyes caught the man focusing on the students...there were other guests, you know? "Reminiscing about your Hogwarts years?" she asked the Layout Editor.
As Ian got to work, Emmy watched him set the tripod for a few moments before settling down in the chair next to the one occupying the t-shirts. She played with a lock of dark hair by curling it in one of her fingers for a few moments, and then tucked it behind her ear. "I think that unnecessary title makes him sounds a bit presumptuous," Emmanuelle offered quietly. "But perhaps it is worthy of the Junior undersecretary of the Minister." Leroy certainly did not agree with her own statement, and her face said as much, but she left it there.
The appearance of some unknown man captured her attention long enough to realize that he appeared to be completely out of his element. Emmy raised one of her eyebrows delicately at him, before completely erasing the person from her mind. If he wasn't talking, why should she bother?
Ama!Nabs IS NAMED MINHO & Is SO Black Panther Right Now
Ian stood up. He observed Sienna for a moment with his fists on his hips. "Call me old fashioned then," he remarked lightly. A sigh later, he was rummaging inside his robes once more for the camera. He heard talking behind him as he worked and prepared the camera. "You're entitled to your opinion, Emmy," he said.
He couldn't say much about himself. Of course, as a human being he had every right to have an opinion but being a journalist was tricky. One was to be objective at all costs, ideally in any case. Then again, it wasn't uncommon for a journalist or an entire paper to have skewed its views towards one side.
"Marshall," called out Hoshino. "Where are the rest of your colleagues?"
Marshall couldn't fathom why would anyone punished the school-aged people to sit through this entire ordeal; perhaps this was some sort of new form of detention? It couldn't be, because admittedly, the brats looked perfectly pleased. When Sienna directed herself to him, Marshall looked her way but not precisely at the woman--instead, he focused on her golden hair. Making no eye-contact still seemed like a good idea to him, "Ah," He began, feeling his throat tighten. He cleared it, as he rubbed a faintly flushed cheek, "Yes, yes, indeed. It's been eleven years, and it doesn't quite feel like it," The layout editor concluded, his Irish accent making an appearance at the end of his comment.
Hmm. Balling a hand into a fist, Marshall coughed into it. "I wouldn't know, Mister Hoshino," Responded the lanky man with a small frown, "But I think I saw, um, Lyric?" What's-Her-Name? Marshall didn't really know her, but that sports writer looked mean. "And Hunter Bones? arrive right after the security folk let me in? Yes, those two."
Do I have to keep waiting? Can I post? I'm posting. DEAL WITH IT.
Made of Awesome | Ern-la the Best-wa | TZ's Apogee
It had taken far far longer to get through security than Hunter liked, especially since she didn't exactly see the point to it all. Who in their right mind would think that Hunter Bones was dangerous?
Well. Fine. She was sort of dangerous to egos and tempers, but she couldn't really physically harm anyone. Not with witnesses and stuff.
She took a seat in the press box and wiggled her fingers at Ian. We see you, Hoshino.
ROAMING security. Feh. It did mean that Damien got to keep himself busy and that was a good thing. Van DID say he needed to get his head right or something like that. So here he was... roaming.
...
Right into the Press Box. Press box= Hunter Bones. Magnificent. Damien sighed slightly and approached with caution before tipping his hat at her. "Hello there, Hunter. Ready to rip people to shreds with that quill of yours?" he asked with a chuckle. Smoooth... real smooth. He wasn't even sure if they were OKAY. Sighs.
Cue fidgety awkwardness and all that. Smiles for you, Ms. Bones. BIG ONES.
Ama!Nabs IS NAMED MINHO & Is SO Black Panther Right Now
Lyric Brantt and Hunter Bones. Those weren't names he normally wanted to hear together; however, Ian was aware that when it came to his writers they did seem to be the most eager to socialize even if they lacked certain charms some would consider appropriate for such situations. They were journalists, though, not women of society out seeking a future husband. Hoshino didn't expect any less but professional journalism from them.
"Personally, I don't understand the need for my reporters to have to go through security," grumbled Hoshino, standing up. "If you see a press pass you let them pass. How difficult can it be? They're Daily Prophet representatives not common vandals."
So, he was still miffed that his fiancé had got carded. Sue him.
"Bones!" called out Hoshino, tugging on his robes instinctively. "There is an entire row of empty seats between us. There's no need to sit so far away. Join the rest of us. Where's Brantt? Is she getting pat down by security?"
Speaking of security--there was on his press box. Ian glanced up at him briefly then at Bones. "There is nothing but truth in our paper. I'm sure Hunter only gives people what they deserve."
You know, when she wasn't writing about vacation destinations and that type of thing. Aware that perhaps his employee wanted to, perhaps, partake in some common flirtation with the unnamed man, Ian moved to sit by Emmanuelle. "Have you seen a picture of Lord Borr?" he inquired in a whisper, his lips close to one of her ears. "Or should I describe him for you? I think I can come up with convincing imagery."
Made of Awesome | Ern-la the Best-wa | TZ's Apogee
"Wanted to leave a buffer for your big head," Hunter called back in her sweetest tones, following up with a cheerful little flip of her hair. Cut her budgets and require her to write dull Op-Ed stuff all the time and the wrath of this journalist would rain down upon you. Such was life.
As for Lyric, Hunter had abandoned the woman throwing a cranky tantrum at the check point. And if Ian wanted to find her, he could send out a search party.
"You," she turned and gave Damien a look. A good look, but a look nonetheless. "You are going to get me in trouble with my boss. I only rip people into nice even-sized pieces. Shreds are so undignified."
Speaking of security--there was on his press box. Ian glanced up at him briefly then at Bones. "There is nothing but truth in our paper. I'm sure Hunter only gives people what they deserve."
Damien turned to face the LOUD man with the defensive attitude about THEIR paper and laughed outright. "Hey never said there was anything other than truth in it. Just messing with Hunter a bit," he said in his thick drawl.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Cassirin
"You," she turned and gave Damien a look. A good look, but a look nonetheless. "You are going to get me in trouble with my boss. I only rip people into nice even-sized pieces. Shreds are so undignified."
Facing Hunter he caught the LOOK and chuckled. She was funsies. Holding up his hands in mock surrender he said, "My mistake, Ms. Bones. How dare I suggest you do ANYTHING undignified." Heh.
Perhaps they weren't that bad off anymore. He still blamed her and he was sure she blamed him, but bigones and all that.
Made of Awesome | Ern-la the Best-wa | TZ's Apogee
Quote:
Originally Posted by Pinky
Damien turned to face the LOUD man with the defensive attitude about THEIR paper and laughed outright. "Hey never said there was anything other than truth in it. Just messing with Hunter a bit," he said in his thick drawl.
Facing Hunter he caught the LOOK and chuckled. She was funsies. Holding up his hands in mock surrender he said, "My mistake, Ms. Bones. How dare I suggest you do ANYTHING undignified." Heh.
Perhaps they weren't that bad off anymore. He still blamed her and he was sure she blamed him, but bigones and all that.
Hunter had a theory that Damien's short temper was going to get him into trouble sooner rather than later, and while she didn't particularly appreciate drama that had anything to do with her, she did hope that any major meltdowns would occur close enough for an exclusive.
"You should sit. You know they gave us the best seats in the house." Or you know... the closest, at least. "Are you on duty?"
Hunter had a theory that Damien's short temper was going to get him into trouble sooner rather than later, and while she didn't particularly appreciate drama that had anything to do with her, she did hope that any major meltdowns would occur close enough for an exclusive.
"You should sit. You know they gave us the best seats in the house." Or you know... the closest, at least. "Are you on duty?"
Damien looked Hunter up and down and then took a seat beside her. Yeah. He could sit a while. "Yeah, I am actually. Roaming security is what it is called.But I reckon I can see enough from here, ya know," he said with a cheeky grin.
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Press Box 
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