Good grief. If Nathan had realised work was going to be like this this morning he would have stayed behind to face his mother-in law's wrath.

His expression had changed from one of relaxed smugness to confusion as several new employees wandered in for the meeting. Edging his chair around the table to accommodate them, his eyebrow raised when what he thought what was a new cleaning lady barged in, plonked herself at the table, and began cleaning it! His eyebrow raised up into his hairline as he took in her appearance. Bubblehead charmed up and wearing more jewellery than Mr T would deem necessary. He gulped and looked at Rico. It was nice to see that the Daily Prophet were employing people with certain... needs but maybe this was going just a little far...?

He eyed Rico who was now trying to deal with a million things (or employees) at once, swallowing a small chuckle as French Woman accused the poor American of being 'Too Little to be managing a place like zis!' He looked down at his hands, biting his bottom lip. Would be typical if he got the giggles right now. He shuffled awkwardly in his seat a little, tying to keep himself from laughing out loud but found his eyes moving upwards to look at Ian and the woman who had introduced herself as Jane as he mentioned she had loo roll under her arms. This time he couldn't repress it and a small hiccup of a giggle escaped his lips which he tried to subtly hide with a cough but failed and made it all the more worse. "hahaha!" He guffawed before clapping his hand over his mouth, looking shocked by his own behaviour. Nathan wasn't mean - he really didn't mean to laugh at the poor woman, but he always seemed to get the giggles at the most awkward, inappropriate times - a nervous trait he had never been able to shake off since he was a boy. He shot her an apologetic look and looked back at Ian who was now busy welcoming the new.. urm.. team. Turned out Mrs Bubblehead was part of the Layout Team. Merlin's goat. Why couldn't it have been Ms Loo Roll? She seemed the most sane of all the newbies.

As people started to settle, in his peripheral vision, he caught his wife not concentrating on what was happening around them, but looking at him. Glancing at her he saw... puzzlement on her face. He half expected a scolding for giggling at poor Loo Roll Woman. “What?” He mouthed, but she appeared to be looking at his hair. He raised his hand and ran his fingers through his fringe which really did need a trim... and a wash, and gave it a flick outwards, causing it to stick out at a strange angle thanks to the gel he had decided to apply to it that morning at Miriam, his mirror's, suggestion. She had told him he looked dashing and 'it was lovely to see those eyes' and he had never ever had reason to doubt that mirror so why start now? She would never allow him to leave the house looking like an idiot.

Glancing over at Ana, he was more than grateful when she gave Rico a gentle nudge to start to get organised.

Alright. So things started out...normal, except for the fact that Enrico managed to keep her and IAN uninformed about the new staffing.

Nothing to be concern, he must have forgotten about it. But she'll make sure he'll remember something like that in the future.

A woman entered.

Oh, great. Another woman. Because that's what they needed...wait...first floor? Where was this first floor she mentioned? Were there bigger offices in the first floor? With sun? How come no one ever mentioned this to her? Well, it was probably as unimportant as new hires, right?

And she must have been day dreaming because the next thing she knew was that the room was filled with females....man, Ian must be loving this. Ha.

OMG!

The woman cleaning was driving her insane. Actually, the whole room was driving her insane. She'll probably join poor Tristan with his headache. What a mess this was turning out to be.


THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE OTHER EDITORS ARE LEFT OUT OF MAKING DECISIONS!


Or...simply not being aware by such important changes...

Messy. Messy. And the room was getting smaller. How was she supposed to enjoy her hair when it was too crowded in here?

'Parfait'. And then Ian's remark. She had to chuckle, because that was the only funny thing happening right now.

This was a serious newspaper, for crying out loud! And there was nothing serious about Mr. Serio *get the irony?* at the moment. He shouldn't be doing all the work, that's what she was here for...and Ian too.

Sienna simply placed her left hand on her forehead, and pretended to write something with her right hand. Shaking her head in disappointment all the while.

"Yes, please..." Tristan mumbled, agreeing with Ana, desperate to get the meeting started. The less people spoke the less of a pain he'd have to endure from his head. Massage, massage, massage... slow big circles on his temples... calm...breathe in and out...

Tristan could feel his foul mood creeping up, he honestly never was this bad tempered, but the stress of realising he had more layouts to figure out was making him cranky. And the buzzing in the room made it worse.
Glancing up to see what the current situation was, he could see that most of the staffers had calmed down.
Sienna seemed to be sharing his pain though, seeing her place a hand on her forehead.
And what was she writing? Was there anything important to take notes on? Maybe; Fire loud people...or; Learn how to cast Silencio without anyone noticing. Tristan snorted at his own 'joke'.

With the lack of anything more interesting to do, he tried craning his neck to see what Sienna could be writing.

It was simple. There was nothing more horrifying than this. Even if she never enjoyed Getti's ways of relating to the staff, Enrico should try an impose some authority.

True. She could do the same. But he was the Editor-In-Chief...so....

If anyone was curious as to what she was writing down...well, it was nothing out of the ordinary, really. Just a list.


Then, she looked up and smiled at him. Sienna was very upset about the way things were working in this meeting, but she found Tristan's apparent lack of focus on whatever was happening (thank Merlin he wasn't paying much attention) kind of childish, but amusing.

Her head straightened up, "Please, Enrico, move along" PLEASE, MOVE ALONG "Do you...need any help?" let's not leave him all alone in this.

"Yes, Lifestyle," Ivy said, flipping her blue hair out of her eyes.

What is that...word? Bug film fon camora #7? Huh?
Tristan frowned, what does camora mean? This craning of the neck, and trying to do so without making anyone notice - specially Sienna - was proving to be difficult. Shifting in his seat a bit to get a better view, he managed to make sense of the next line and chuckled at the words 'Stay away from french lady.'
That was a wise choice, for even though the woman was probably a nice person, her manners made Tristan want to stay well away from her...way.

Just as he was about to read the last line... Uh oh. Why does it say Tristan?? Whyyy? He couldn't well go right up to her and read her list, but he couldn't shift any more to get a better view. The next step would be to stand on the chair and look down at her list. At that very moment, while he was beginning to worry why his name would be on anyone's list, Sienna looked up. And smiled. Which made Tristan stop, and get a wee bit red in the face. This is baaad. Was she going to report him or something? Didn't your mom- grandparents teach you it is wrong to poke your nose into other people's businness? Tristan akwardly shifted back in his seat again, wondering. Sienna did scare him a bit. She was a beautiful powerful - no - monkey - business - woman. She could crush him with her high heels.

Tristan sank lower into his chair, like he was about to skid under the table when one of the women spoke. He turned to her, sensing she wasn't as outspoken as some of the other people in here. She has blue hair. Metamorphmagus?

Massage, massage, massage...

...

Breaaaatheeeee. No, she took exactly 7 deep breaths before looking back at that woman who was now brushing her arms on her clothes. HMPHHHH. She didn't need this simply unacceptable behavior. Who did this little French woman think she was?! Before trying to strain her arms out of the strong man's grip--oh how filthy his hands must have been... filthiness. Dirty. She loathed this man already, even when he did release her poor arms.

Moira vigorously tried scratching the part where he strained her. Ew. Ewww. She wanted his bacterias and germs now on her hand to SHOOOOoooo. "Yes, Demitrakos," she said with a slight tone of annoyance in her voice.

Stop cleaning? This table was reeking of pure bacteria!

She was on her 40th scrub, so she quickly scrubbed the table two more times before (to AT LEAST get divisible of 7), put away her bottle of Mrs. Scower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover back into her purse, folded the little tissue she used for scrubbing and let it stay there (because no way was she done with her cleaning).

And the woman with loo paper??? WHAT? Ew. Perspiring... sweat... it all disgusted her. And loo paper. LOO PAPER. It disgusted her as well, she never trusted public bathrooms. Moira simply looked away at this Jane woman and her eyes went back to the little French woman and oh, her little bubble was gonna pop soon enough if this continued aaaalllriiight.

This woman was an evil spirit. EEVVIILLLL SPIIIRIIITTTT. Just to be safe from any evil spirit invasion, Moira spat down three times on her chest. "Ptew, ptew, ptew," she whispered, and then looked back at the meeting, twitched for a moment, and faintly smiled. Ah yeeeees, her spit would save her nowww.

They were really very messy, she thought wearing a look of distaste. Back in France, when they'd have a conference, everyone was already sitting down and things were getting into business right away! No chitter chatter and certainly no women cleaning their tables while they discussed important matters.

Of course, then again the American was running this show. Americans were so very messy. Messier than the British!

Her eyes flickered once Hoshino spoke again. She eyed him, incredulous with what he had said. She was no flawless yogurt cup! She was a flawless woman! A Woman! "Harrr, harrrr, monsieur. You are a funnny man." And with that comment, she placed her hand onto her hairband and gave a hard tug, allowing her hair to cascade through her shoulders. She ran both her fingers in there and fluffed it, wanting it to look good.

Now... for the meeting to start.

"Right. We're moving along." Rico gripped the back of his chair but didn't sit down, glancing just once at Sienna to shake his head before looking back at the rest of the table.

"Firstly, welcome to the Prophet, those of you who are new. I hope to have a more successful newspaper with ah, you new hires around." Though now he was having serious doubts about certain employees... but, enough said.

"Secondly, let's talk news. I just met with the new Minister of Magic and discussed a few things... amongst which she expressed a desire to have a better working relationship with the Prophet. Miss Taylor specifically asked that although it is inevitable to have reporters investigating things in the Ministry, please remember to have common courtesy and not go out of your way to interrupt workers. Not that I forsee that as being a huge problem anyway."

Rico paused to rub his chin and think of the next point then, to allow that request of the Minister's to sink in. "I've also heard that the British Ministry is working to host the next Quidditch World Cup coming up here in 2070." Rico was PUMPED about that, personally. "And I believe I had a request from the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports to publish a few special pages regarding qualifying matches and stuff... nothing to worry about now though."

He leaned forward to the table and flicked a page in front of him, nodding at the notes. "And Hogwarts. What's up with the werewolves there? Have any of you had any.... news on that front? Any ideas for features regarding the staff or the mysterious death in Diagon Alley last week? I ran into Bontecou in Slugs & Jitters the other day and he was rather elusive and denied a request for an interview..."

Granted, the interview had been under false pretenses and for a publication Rico didn't work for, but still. The man was SHIFTY.

"So... editors, writers.....erm, photographers maybe.... what are your thoughts on story ideas?" Now was the chance for new people to prove themselves.

Jane quietly and discreetly (even though apparently people around here still noticed everything), took a notebook and stubby pencil from her bag. She listened carefully and took notes on EVERYTHING Mr. Seri... Rico was saying.

And then she doodled.

Oh wait, a question?

She hesitatingly raised her hand... from her waist, elbow still pressed tight against her side.

"Perhaps there needs to be an insider in the school? Maybe some students might volunteer information? Opinions? Or..." Jane considered carefully, "Maybe the Department of Education has information about how the roll has been effected? Complaints from parents and things like that?"

Jane coiled some of her hair around her stubby pencil consideringly.

"If the minister wants us to work closely with the ministry, surely she'd allow us to talk with the appropriate divisions? Werewolf control and all, and does anyone know any healers at St. Mungos? Maybe someone can find out what happened right after the attack? They did go there right?"

Oh... right... lifestyle..

"...or um... Fashion Tips for The Wolfish Wizard?"

Hunter wiggled her fingers in a half-hearted wave, trying to play it cool even though she was simply brimming over with enthusiasm. "I had ice cream with Bontecou last week and gained an exclusive interview, including confirmation that he is in fact infected with lycanthropy."

She raised her eyes to Rico's and wondered if maybe she could get a high five or something. "Not that I'm complaining, Boss Man, but if we're playing nice with the Ministry, how is that different than the previous relationship? All positive news isn't any better than no news."

Daphne rapped her fingers against the table. She had sat in silence for most of the meeting, even during disturbances. Her heart raced as she thought of her experience, which didn't amount to much.

She nervously raised her hand. After about a minute in the air, she realised how daft she must look. Possibly like a schoolchild. She cleared her throat. "Well I'd love to help out with the Quidditch World Cup stuff," she said sheepishly, fervently nodding her head, in agreement with no one in particular. At least someone would notice her seat was occupied.

Pepper stared in mild puzzlement, wondering if this was how every meeting started. Of course, the Daily Prophet was considered one of the best wizarding publications, so maybe this happened when one put a lot of creative people in one room? Or an obscure custom? Many put great comfort in customs, that much Pepper knew. But maybe, he thought as he watched, he should tell that nervous-looking woman that eight and nine were much luckier numbers than seven. His mother had always said so. It had been common knowledge in the village!

Finally, the man at the head of the table called the meeting to order. Pepper listened silently, scratching the top of his head with his ballpoint pen absent-mindedly, not noticing until it was too late that he'd been doing so with the tip, not to end. He put it down hurriedly next to his notebook. "Ah, I wonder if I could, opine a comment?" he ventured. That was how you said it, right?

He nodded at the woman a few seats up the table. She'd called Mr Serio Boss Man (he'd written it down all neatly), so maybe that was how Pepper was supposed to address the editor? No no, that would be too informal. "As my colleaguess said, Mr Man," he said, pleased he got it right, "is it really, ah, appropriate for us to to listen to the Ministry? We should not, um... play... nice?" He looked questioningly at the woman. "No, we should play bad. Bad, yes." There. He had successfully adapted a colloquial expression. He twanged his pen on the table for emphasis.

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

Ian wasn't writing truly writing anything down of importance. What was important for Hoshino was most likely not important for everyone else. The man had different priorities. For example--not catering to the Ministry's whims.

• Pretend to like the Ministry for Serio's sake

The new hires were starting to lose their luster and the Advertising Section Editor graced them with few glances in the following minutes. Mademoiselle Parfait was pleasant when she wasn't spewing incoherently at them about their lack of glamour and--Moira Demitrakos enjoyed spitting on herself despite being completely head over feet in love with cleanliness.

• Pretend to like the Ministry for Serio's sake
• Stay away from Demitrakos or be forced to spray her down with water and soap.

And then he doodled a slightly obscene and violent stick figure in the corner of his notepad because, surely, Enrico Serio wasn't asking him for a story idea. Surely. "A feature on the most popular team? Or something," he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

Quidditch. Right. That thing.

Quote:

"No, we should play bad. Bad, yes." There. He had successfully adapted a colloquial expression. He twanged his pen on the table for emphasis.

Alright. At least one new hire was still amusing. Chuckling he glanced over at Enrico and Sienna, instinctively shoving his tongue into his cheek. He would say nothing.

Playing bad wasn't such a bad idea though.

• Pretend to like the Ministry for Serio's sake
• Stay away from Demitrakos or be forced to spray her down with water and soap.
• Pick up a few books on Quidditch from Flourish'
• Engrave 'Play Bad' on the door to the Photographer's Work Area

Quote:

Originally Posted by Luna Laufghudd

Just as he was about to read the last line... Uh oh. Why does it say Tristan?? Whyyy? He couldn't well go right up to her and read her list, but he couldn't shift any more to get a better view. The next step would be to stand on the chair and look down at her list. At that very moment, while he was beginning to worry why his name would be on anyone's list, Sienna looked up. And smiled. Which made Tristan stop, and get a wee bit red in the face. This is baaad. Was she going to report him or something? Didn't your mom- grandparents teach you it is wrong to poke your nose into other people's businness? Tristan akwardly shifted back in his seat again, wondering. Sienna did scare him a bit. She was a beautiful powerful - no - monkey - business - woman. She could crush him with her high heels.

The look on Tristan's face was priceless. Perhaps he didn't read the full thing and was worrying about why his name was there? Perfect.

Sienna will be having fun with that later, she still needed to ask him if he put something in his clothes when he washed them, because there was not a single wrinkle on them. Envy, that was the word for it, because Sienna had to be constantly using her wand to keep them all looking as if they were just ironed. She didn't mind doing that, but she was certain that Tristan didn't really focused on his clothes as much, so...well, yes, she'll ask him.

Quote:

Originally Posted by dingDong

This woman was an evil spirit. EEVVIILLLL SPIIIRIIITTTT. Just to be safe from any evil spirit invasion, Moira spat down three times on her chest. "Ptew, ptew, ptew," she whispered, and then looked back at the meeting, twitched for a moment, and faintly smiled. Ah yeeeees, her spit would save her nowww.

And then the most horrifying sight she'd ever thought she'd witness here today.

Forget about the french lady, this was the woman to look out for, because Sienna simply disliked how she spit on herself. Ewww. Not nice at all. Not to mention this one was weird all together. On second thought, she'd better stay away from the Photographers area, wouldn't the photographs injected with saliva. No.

SPOILER!!: Rico's post

Quote:

Originally Posted by BanaBatGirl

"Right. We're moving along." Rico gripped the back of his chair but didn't sit down, glancing just once at Sienna to shake his head before looking back at the rest of the table.

"Firstly, welcome to the Prophet, those of you who are new. I hope to have a more successful newspaper with ah, you new hires around." Though now he was having serious doubts about certain employees... but, enough said.

"Secondly, let's talk news. I just met with the new Minister of Magic and discussed a few things... amongst which she expressed a desire to have a better working relationship with the Prophet. Miss Taylor specifically asked that although it is inevitable to have reporters investigating things in the Ministry, please remember to have common courtesy and not go out of your way to interrupt workers. Not that I forsee that as being a huge problem anyway."

Rico paused to rub his chin and think of the next point then, to allow that request of the Minister's to sink in. "I've also heard that the British Ministry is working to host the next Quidditch World Cup coming up here in 2070." Rico was PUMPED about that, personally. "And I believe I had a request from the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports to publish a few special pages regarding qualifying matches and stuff... nothing to worry about now though."

He leaned forward to the table and flicked a page in front of him, nodding at the notes. "And Hogwarts. What's up with the werewolves there? Have any of you had any.... news on that front? Any ideas for features regarding the staff or the mysterious death in Diagon Alley last week? I ran into Bontecou in Slugs & Jitters the other day and he was rather elusive and denied a request for an interview..."

Granted, the interview had been under false pretenses and for a publication Rico didn't work for, but still. The man was SHIFTY.

"So... editors, writers.....erm, photographers maybe.... what are your thoughts on story ideas?" Now was the chance for new people to prove themselves.

Yes, please, start already.

Thank you, Enrico. But...Hmmmm...was that all the Minister was talking about when she was in his office? Enrico must be leaving some juicy stuff out. After all, he'd managed to keep her and Ian away from management decisions.

Whatever the Minister wanted...well, that sounded reasonable, but unnecessary, because Sienna wasn't going to get in trouble inside the Ministry anymore.

Her face looked bored when he mentioned Quidditch. What a stupid sport? Actually, why was it a sport? They shouldn't even bother to keep writing about that in the Prophet, anyway. Enrico must be loving that part of the story, because he seemed like the Quidditch kind of guy. Pfffft. Quidditch.

The Headmaster denied an interview? Oh, that's interesting. Sienna straightened up in her chair. What was the Headmaster hiding?

Quote:

Originally Posted by Celandine

"If the minister wants us to work closely with the ministry, surely she'd allow us to talk with the appropriate divisions? Werewolf control and all, and does anyone know any healers at St. Mungos? Maybe someone can find out what happened right after the attack? They did go there right?"

Oh... right... lifestyle..

"...or um... Fashion Tips for The Wolfish Wizard?"

Hmph. Working closer with the Ministry. If only Cooper had remained in there. If only Tetrus was still working in the Magical Creatures Department.

Waaaiiiit....Fashion tips? From her? Yes, sure, that could do.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Cassirin

Hunter wiggled her fingers in a half-hearted wave, trying to play it cool even though she was simply brimming over with enthusiasm. "I had ice cream with Bontecou last week and gained an exclusive interview, including confirmation that he is in fact infected with lycanthropy."

She raised her eyes to Rico's and wondered if maybe she could get a high five or something. "Not that I'm complaining, Boss Man, but if we're playing nice with the Ministry, how is that different than the previous relationship? All positive news isn't any better than no news."

Sienna smiled when Hunter spoke. Ice cream. What an unusual type of gathering.

Boss Man? Yes, Enrico had to put some authority into this, or he'll be referred as B-Man in no time.

Quote:

Originally Posted by LeapFrog

She nervously raised her hand. After about a minute in the air, she realised how daft she must look. Possibly like a schoolchild. She cleared her throat. "Well I'd love to help out with the Quidditch World Cup stuff," she said sheepishly, fervently nodding her head, in agreement with no one in particular. At least someone would notice her seat was occupied.

Because she had no other choice. It was just annoying how 'Sports' to the Wizarding Community translated into 'Quidditch'.

And Daphne was the Sports Section Editor, she had no other choice but work on such a story, then again, that story could wait a bit, perhaps there were other topics to discuss in sports.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Antarctica!

He nodded at the woman a few seats up the table. She'd called Mr Serio Boss Man (he'd written it down all neatly), so maybe that was how Pepper was supposed to address the editor? No no, that would be too informal. "As my colleaguess said, Mr Man," he said, pleased he got it right, "is it really, ah, appropriate for us to to listen to the Ministry? We should not, um... play... nice?" He looked questioningly at the woman. "No, we should play bad. Bad, yes." There. He had successfully adapted a colloquial expression. He twanged his pen on the table for emphasis.

Then there was the man with the ink. And....ooooh....play bad? Sienna eyed Enrico as if to say 'Let me take this', still, she didn't wait for the Editor-In-Chief to comment, she HAD to ask.

"Excuse me, Mr..." whatever his name was, her eyes narrowed a bit at Enrico because she didn't know the man's name, "...but I have to ask, what do you mean by 'playing bad'? Do you think we should simply ignore a few requests from the Ministry or...what exactly do you mean?" she smiled, because that was not a bad idea, but she wanted to know if this man was on the same page as Sienna's thoughts.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Ama

Alright. At least one new hire was still amusing. Chuckling he glanced over at Enrico and Sienna, instinctively shoving his tongue into his cheek. He would say nothing.

Playing bad wasn't such a bad idea though.

Sienna was still smiling when she met Ian's glance. However, why he chose not to comment was entirely beyond her. Really. It was odd for Ian to keep some comments to himself.

Parfait? Right?

Sigh.
So now the writers and photographers were going to plan and share their ideas...and the layout editors... Enrico might ask them too, but what would they talk about?
Unless one was to say something like 'Yes I like that idea for an article and would like to regroup your words and form them into a butterfly. Because really, who wouldn't like to read an article shaped like a little insect?

Should he? He might. His hand was twitching to raise and blurt it out. Just to have something to do. Maye even forget his headache?

Naaah, he wouldn't interrupt the meeting. Instead he reached inside his breast pocket and grabbed a muggle graphite pen, with a rubber on the end, and started to doodle on the desk. It looked something like this;

Tristan stopped doodling, for now, and began to bite the end of the pen. He was still not sure what had been written on Sienna's paper. Should he ask her later? Maybe Tristan should apologize when the meeting was over... for being a nosy bludger...

Ah. Quidditch. Tristan didn't quite understand the fun with a flying broom. It was the one class where he FAILED. Well, not really, but he had gotten the lowest accepted mark.
To this day flying was not something he liked to do, he wouldn't even watch the games at Hogwarts. He prefered to walk, or run. OR riding a muggle bicycle!

Tristan liked feeling solid ground under his feet.

GeeGee ran a hand through her brown hair, fluffing it once more before readying her answer to the manager. The American. Pfft! She was about to give in her opinion when suddenly many people began to speak at once. GeeGee blinked, clueless on what to do. Back in France, they'd have turns and this was just too awkward for her. GeeGee decided to do what she did best and looked at people, observing everyone and taking in every word they spoke.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Celandine

"Perhaps there needs to be an insider in the school? Maybe some students might volunteer information? Opinions? Or..." Jane considered carefully, "Maybe the Department of Education has information about how the roll has been effected? Complaints from parents and things like that?"

Jane coiled some of her hair around her stubby pencil consideringly.

"If the minister wants us to work closely with the ministry, surely she'd allow us to talk with the appropriate divisions? Werewolf control and all, and does anyone know any healers at St. Mungos? Maybe someone can find out what happened right after the attack? They did go there right?"

Oh... right... lifestyle..

"...or um... Fashion Tips for The Wolfish Wizard?"

An insider in the school... now Rico liked the sound of that, as sneaky as it sounded. It could be good for the sake of the uh, parents of the wizarding world! Having a reporter on the inside!

"You have some good ideas, Miss Jane," he pointed his quill in her direction and jotted that down. I'M JANE = good ideas. "Though uh, not so sure about the fashion one... heh..."

He wasn't laughing at her. Just... he was about the last person to know anything remotely related to those lifestyle-y suggestions. So he was just chuckling to himself about wolfish wizards.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Cassirin

Hunter wiggled her fingers in a half-hearted wave, trying to play it cool even though she was simply brimming over with enthusiasm. "I had ice cream with Bontecou last week and gained an exclusive interview, including confirmation that he is in fact infected with lycanthropy."

She raised her eyes to Rico's and wondered if maybe she could get a high five or something. "Not that I'm complaining, Boss Man, but if we're playing nice with the Ministry, how is that different than the previous relationship? All positive news isn't any better than no news."

"Ice cream with Bontecou??! Why didn't you speak up sooner?" Rico was clearly pleased with this tidbit of information. He added another note on his list of notes - Bones deserves a raise. Or a free coffee.

The latter was the one likely to happen... though he was becoming fond of this Boss Man title. HEAR THAT, GEEGEELAFRENCHIE? Boss. MAN. Rico needed a plaque that said that for his door now."Playing nice doesn't necessarily mean always showing the Ministry in a favorable light," Rico clarified quickly. "My predecessor...s actually... were too close to the Ministry. I'm sure you've all heard of Clara Belle-Cooper?"

He paused and shuffled some more papers to look busy. "The point is, Minister Taylor thought we could work together and not necessarily always be at each other's throats NOR be too close for comfort at the same time. Make sense?" It made sense in his head.

Quote:

Originally Posted by LeapFrog

Daphne rapped her fingers against the table. She had sat in silence for most of the meeting, even during disturbances. Her heart raced as she thought of her experience, which didn't amount to much.

She nervously raised her hand. After about a minute in the air, she realised how daft she must look. Possibly like a schoolchild. She cleared her throat. "Well I'd love to help out with the Quidditch World Cup stuff," she said sheepishly, fervently nodding her head, in agreement with no one in particular. At least someone would notice her seat was occupied.

"Well you are the Sports Editor, right?" Rico winked at (possibly) the youngest employee. "How are you thinking of covering it? Interviews? Stats? Maybe a column or two on teams to watch out for?"

He was really looking forward to covering this, if the new editor would hopefully be up for it. Rico was a total Quidditch fanboy... the sport was just one of the reasons he'd moved to England.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Antarctica!

Pepper stared in mild puzzlement, wondering if this was how every meeting started. Of course, the Daily Prophet was considered one of the best wizarding publications, so maybe this happened when one put a lot of creative people in one room? Or an obscure custom? Many put great comfort in customs, that much Pepper knew. But maybe, he thought as he watched, he should tell that nervous-looking woman that eight and nine were much luckier numbers than seven. His mother had always said so. It had been common knowledge in the village!

Finally, the man at the head of the table called the meeting to order. Pepper listened silently, scratching the top of his head with his ballpoint pen absent-mindedly, not noticing until it was too late that he'd been doing so with the tip, not to end. He put it down hurriedly next to his notebook. "Ah, I wonder if I could, opine a comment?" he ventured. That was how you said it, right?

He nodded at the woman a few seats up the table. She'd called Mr Serio Boss Man (he'd written it down all neatly), so maybe that was how Pepper was supposed to address the editor? No no, that would be too informal. "As my colleaguess said, Mr Man," he said, pleased he got it right, "is it really, ah, appropriate for us to to listen to the Ministry? We should not, um... play... nice?" He looked questioningly at the woman. "No, we should play bad. Bad, yes." There. He had successfully adapted a colloquial expression. He twanged his pen on the table for emphasis.

He turned then to blink at yet another new hire... this one was.... news? Yes? He was okay then if the was calling Rico Mr. Man/Boss Man. All good.

"Ah, no, I don't want to listen TO the Ministry, I just..." sigh. "Can't we maintain a semi-professional, cordial relationship with their spokesman or woman? And publish more unbiased articles?" Whoever the senior undersecretary was now. Rico had a good relationship with the junior undersecretary but that was different. He wanted to make the Daily Prophet look like a serious publication again, so maybe people like Angelina wouldn't just write it off.

Eh. He'd work on it. Speaking of working, Tristan sure looked like he was having a good go at whatever he was drawing.

"Do you have any ideas to share... also? Any complaints with layout, Nathan or Tristan?" he voiced in the direction of the layout editor, deliberately not mentioning the Greek girl. She hadn't worked in layout yet so she should have no complaints, right?

"Xiao, and I mean to say that we should not needlessly, ah... accommodate the Ministry." Pepper paused for a moment to think. He rarely needed a dictionary when writing. "Appease? Placate? You know?" He twirled the pen through his fingers. "In my experiences, if one seems overeager, the requests soon become more intrusive. I mean not to be bothersome on purpose." He inclined his head in the direction of Mr Serio. "Certainly everyone wishes for pleasant atmospheric conditions. And perhaps the Ministry spokespersons are more forthcoming if we do not, how do you say, stomp on their toes?"

"However, in the same, er, vine, they should know that we write for the public." Pepper waved his hand expansively to indicate the entire Daily Prophet building. "We are not answerable to the Ministry. And," he smiled, "we are not answerable to friendliness, either. Journalism is about reporting the truth. Unbiased, of course, Mr Man, but sooner or later, we will have to publish articles criticising the Ministry if we want to stay unbiased. In examples..." He thumbed through his notebook. "Why have there not been made any arrests for the attack in the Leaky Cauldron? It seems to me that the Ministry of Magic is, um, particularly unable to deal with murder. Surely that is something we need to ask enquiries about."

Nathan was busy squinting across the the table at whatever it was Tristan was sketching on it's surface. The drawing was upside down, but from Nathan's perspective it looked like... um.. lightning bolts, scary looking bird things and lots of.. er... skulls? Man... if that was some sort of symbolism as to what was going on in the fella's head right now, Nathan thought it wise to avoid his colleague for the rest of the day.

The next thing he heard was his name and he realised he hadn't been listening to anything since Ian's parfait comment (heh), when all the staff started talking at once. It was too much like being at home during the school holidays when all the kids were there for him to cope with. The defence mechanism was to switch off. “Um...” He scratched the back of his gelled up hair not really wanting to ask Rico to repeat the question. “C-coffee?” he blurted out like a sneeze he couldn't hold back. “Um.. What I mean is.. we use some better coffee in the breakroom. It could be good for staff morale.” He looked at Rico with a mixture of sheepishness and childlike expectancy, hoping that was an appropriate answer to his question.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Antarctica!

"Xiao, and I mean to say that we should not needlessly, ah... accommodate the Ministry." Pepper paused for a moment to think. He rarely needed a dictionary when writing. "Appease? Placate? You know?" He twirled the pen through his fingers. "In my experiences, if one seems overeager, the requests soon become more intrusive. I mean not to be bothersome on purpose." He inclined his head in the direction of Mr Serio. "Certainly everyone wishes for pleasant atmospheric conditions. And perhaps the Ministry spokespersons are more forthcoming if we do not, how do you say, stomp on their toes?"

"However, in the same, er, vine, they should know that we write for the public." Pepper waved his hand expansively to indicate the entire Daily Prophet building. "We are not answerable to the Ministry. And," he smiled, "we are not answerable to friendliness, either. Journalism is about reporting the truth. Unbiased, of course, Mr Man, but sooner or later, we will have to publish articles criticising the Ministry if we want to stay unbiased. In examples..." He thumbed through his notebook. "Why have there not been made any arrests for the attack in the Leaky Cauldron? It seems to me that the Ministry of Magic is, um, particularly unable to deal with murder. Surely that is something we need to ask enquiries about."

Xiao. Okay. Easy to remember.

"So, Xiao..." Merlin she was hoping she pronounced that right, "...I don't think that's what they don't want us to do" she said, with a nod, and looked at Enrico, because he was the one that knew more about this...you know.

"I do agree with you, we have to remain unbiased because people need to know the truth, and...no, we don't answer to the Ministry but that doesn't mean we cannot have a cordial relationship with them" she never minded answering to Cooper, but now...well, she clearly wouldn't. And this Xiao man, even if he had ink on his face was oh-so-right for the job.

At the mention of murder Sienna couldn't help but think the unlucky murder that happened while Cooper was Minister. Awful. Awful. "I think that's an excellent idea, are you planning on interviewing anyone in particular?" she asked, and now she was writing something down. Something no one, even if they sat next to her, could see.

Snap!
Tristan jerked his head up, startled at the mention of his name that the point of the pen broke. He tried to smudge out the doodled part of the table. Uh, great now he'd have to sharpen the pencil...

Before he could answer, he was thankful that Nathan had spoken up first, getting him time to come up with an answer. Well you wanted to speak up, so do it!
Uh, he had nothing ...

"Yes, thats a good idea, Nathan." he said, even though he actually didn't drink coffee. But improving coffe could mean the road to more improvement elsewhere! "I was thinking that maybe," should he say it, here comes the butterflyyyy! "we could, if we wanted to..." stalling stalling "shape the articles to have a more pleasing effect...to the eye?" Tristan swallowed, not daring to take his eyes away from the now smudged doodle. "If there's an article about the World Cup why not shape the article to look like a snitch or something..."
Now he was just making something up.

"Also," he blurted out before he changed his mind, "Is there a possibility to reduce the amount of advertisement on the pages? It's sort of messing with the...artistic design of the layout."
Tristan grimaced a smile, thinking about pointing the wand at himself and hoping to magick away the pain in his head. If he only knew how to.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Antarctica!

"Xiao, and I mean to say that we should not needlessly, ah... accommodate the Ministry." Pepper paused for a moment to think. He rarely needed a dictionary when writing. "Appease? Placate? You know?" He twirled the pen through his fingers. "In my experiences, if one seems overeager, the requests soon become more intrusive. I mean not to be bothersome on purpose." He inclined his head in the direction of Mr Serio. "Certainly everyone wishes for pleasant atmospheric conditions. And perhaps the Ministry spokespersons are more forthcoming if we do not, how do you say, stomp on their toes?"

"However, in the same, er, vine, they should know that we write for the public." Pepper waved his hand expansively to indicate the entire Daily Prophet building. "We are not answerable to the Ministry. And," he smiled, "we are not answerable to friendliness, either. Journalism is about reporting the truth. Unbiased, of course, Mr Man, but sooner or later, we will have to publish articles criticising the Ministry if we want to stay unbiased. In examples..." He thumbed through his notebook. "Why have there not been made any arrests for the attack in the Leaky Cauldron? It seems to me that the Ministry of Magic is, um, particularly unable to deal with murder. Surely that is something we need to ask enquiries about."

Quote:

Originally Posted by Lockhartian

Xiao. Okay. Easy to remember.

"So, Xiao..." Merlin she was hoping she pronounced that right, "...I don't think that's what they don't want us to do" she said, with a nod, and looked at Enrico, because he was the one that knew more about this...you know.

"I do agree with you, we have to remain unbiased because people need to know the truth, and...no, we don't answer to the Ministry but that doesn't mean we cannot have a cordial relationship with them" she never minded answering to Cooper, but now...well, she clearly wouldn't. And this Xiao man, even if he had ink on his face was oh-so-right for the job.

At the mention of murder Sienna couldn't help but think the unlucky murder that happened while Cooper was Minister. Awful. Awful. "I think that's an excellent idea, are you planning on interviewing anyone in particular?" she asked, and now she was writing something down. Something no one, even if they sat next to her, could see.

Before responding to anything else, Rico quickly leaned over his notes again to jot down something to remember. Xiao = Play Bad.

He straightened back up and listened to Xiao and Sienna go back and forth, nodding at the Managing Editor when she was done speaking. "I agree with Ms. Knoll here. It's like that old phrase I'm sure you've all heard..." well, maybe they handn't all heard it since half the staff was international. "Keep your friends close but your enemies closer? Perhaps a wise policy to have when dealing with the Ministry of Magic."

Not that he anticipated butting heads with Reagan Taylor that much. Hopefully.

"But I do like that idea! Perhaps we should send someone," Xiao, even, "straight to the Auror headquarters to find out how the investigation is going. Arrests are supposed to be public record, you know, and therefore open for us to use as a source."

Quote:

Originally Posted by noodles

Nathan was busy squinting across the the table at whatever it was Tristan was sketching on it's surface. The drawing was upside down, but from Nathan's perspective it looked like... um.. lightning bolts, scary looking bird things and lots of.. er... skulls? Man... if that was some sort of symbolism as to what was going on in the fella's head right now, Nathan thought it wise to avoid his colleague for the rest of the day.

The next thing he heard was his name and he realised he hadn't been listening to anything since Ian's parfait comment (heh), when all the staff started talking at once. It was too much like being at home during the school holidays when all the kids were there for him to cope with. The defence mechanism was to switch off. “Um...” He scratched the back of his gelled up hair not really wanting to ask Rico to repeat the question. “C-coffee?” he blurted out like a sneeze he couldn't hold back. “Um.. What I mean is.. we use some better coffee in the breakroom. It could be good for staff morale.” He looked at Rico with a mixture of sheepishness and childlike expectancy, hoping that was an appropriate answer to his question.

After that rather serious discussion, Rico was relieved to crack a smile in Nathan's direction. "Actually I did just buy a brand-new coffee maker, mate! It should be producing hopefully tastier brews by now though... uh, I don't use creamer so you're on your own there..."

Rico stuck his quill behind his ear and thought of something else. "And that reminds me, what would you all say to some new office chairs? Yeah? I need to go over the books again but I think there's some space in the budget... since we are in need of uh, cleaner surroundings too..." coughCrazyCleanerWomancough.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Luna Laufghudd

Snap!
Tristan jerked his head up, startled at the mention of his name that the point of the pen broke. He tried to smudge out the doodled part of the table. Uh, great now he'd have to sharpen the pencil...

Before he could answer, he was thankful that Nathan had spoken up first, getting him time to come up with an answer. Well you wanted to speak up, so do it!
Uh, he had nothing ...

"Yes, thats a good idea, Nathan." he said, even though he actually didn't drink coffee. But improving coffe could mean the road to more improvement elsewhere! "I was thinking that maybe," should he say it, here comes the butterflyyyy! "we could, if we wanted to..." stalling stalling "shape the articles to have a more pleasing effect...to the eye?" Tristan swallowed, not daring to take his eyes away from the now smudged doodle. "If there's an article about the World Cup why not shape the article to look like a snitch or something..."
Now he was just making something up.

"Also," he blurted out before he changed his mind, "Is there a possibility to reduce the amount of advertisement on the pages? It's sort of messing with the...artistic design of the layout."
Tristan grimaced a smile, thinking about pointing the wand at himself and hoping to magick away the pain in his head. If he only knew how to.

Was it Enrico's imagination or was Tristan dancing around actually saying anything? He looked at the guy and thought for a long moment before answering.

"You know, that could be a great way to liven up pages. I'll jot it down." And so he did, with a little note that read Shape layout to fit article topics, let Tristan doodle a cartoon or two.

As for advertisements though... Rico obviosly glanced at Ian. "Well. Seeing as ad revenue is our main source of income, followed by subscriptions... eh I don't see that as being possible. Hoshino?" No doubt Ian would shoot down the idea with a snarky comment or two.

Shape the article to look like a Snitch? That was a new one. Tapping the quill against his notepad, Ian Hoshino allowed Tristan to say his piece. That, however, did not mean he was doing it with a smile. A little sneer graced his lips and the statuesque man, let out a slow whistle.

Slow. For how slow this bloke was.

"Artistic design?" repeated Ian with a little laugh. "The Prophet isn't about artistic design. It's about selling. Appeasing the artistic masses isn't top priority. Our major clients are housewives and working middle class wizards. What do housewives and Ministry employees know about artistic design?"

Tristan wanted to cut down on advertising to...supply the break room with better coffee? Hoshino chuckled, as a hand rose to rub his chin. "You cut back on advertising you cut back on your salary," he said looking at Serio but his words were clearly meant for Tristan. "Plus, that's just almost impossible. There's advertising contracts with just about every store in Diagon Alley. If we cut back on advertising we'd have to appease them first. Make room for their ads which would leave none for the smaller businesses and independent companies."

Not that he cared all that much about independent companies. The point was--there was no way anyone was touching his pay. "In short. I wouldn't go forward with it."

"I come from Sri Lanka." But knowing how few people know about it..."It is by India."

SHOCK!

In the name of Sri Lanka...what in the world was going on? Arjuna stared at the gypsy woman who entered the room. Did she have no sense of propriety? How rude was it to clean someone else's workplace? To be fair, it was the woman's work place now too...but she had not yet earned the right to do that. At first, Arjuna had been relieved that she was not the only one who had chosen unconventional clothing for the first meeting, but this hope was fading fast. She stared in horror as she shrugged off the Editor and as she finally sat down. Magey Ammo.*

Her astonishment caused by the previous woman was nothing compared to her immediate dislike of the woman who entered next. Her clothing was entirely unsuitable for a respectful woman. Arjuna turned her head away from her to avoid glaring. It had not escaped her notice that she spoke very differently to the rest of the people in the room, having something close to French about her accent. Not that she knew much about that, not being well-traveled. By now, Arjuna had given up all hope of following what was happening, but she could still tell that the woman was being exceptionally rude.

Were women here all entirely indecorous? Even to their superiors?

Eventually, she realised the meeting had officially began and turned her attention to her boss. Scribbling in a mixture of short-hand and Sinhalese that no one else would understand, Arjuna took her notes speedily. She was glad that some how she was following Mr. Enrico's speech. Or so she thought.

Quidditch?

You could get the most amazing shots out of that sport! Arjuna squeezed her bag slightly, imagining the shots: the distance, the lighting, even some of the features of the players popped into her head. Anney... She smiled slightly, still clutching her bag.

Waiting for a chance to speak, she thought about "The Events at Hogwarts". She was not intimately acquainted with the school, but she had heard about it. Some of the richer girls had transfered out to there. Or here, now that she was in Britain. "From...the sight of one like me-that is to say, muggleborn-perhaps an introductory article on Quidditch would be...necessary? No, good, rather. And as a photo-grapher, if we can be permitted entrance to the...practice...training...of the teams, we can get some lovely shots. To the pitch site even."

Arjuna glanced at the two Asian-looking men(one looked more Asain than the other) and glanced back at the Editor. One of those men-more likely to be the man with the commanding tone and better English-was her boss. She couldn't say she liked him so far, but had she ever worked under anyone better?