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Editor-in-Chief’s Office [06/04/2010 - 07/07/2012] Not exactly your typical corner office, it doesn't have as nearly as many floor to ceiling windows as you would think. In fact, it actually has zero real floor to ceiling windows. That beautiful scenery behind the so-called windows is nothing but an illusion. Privacy seems to be an important issue with this Editor-in-Chief.You are HERE. |
Ian Hoshino was not in the mood. For what he was or wasn't in the mood for was rather insignificant. It was so, mostly, because he didn't know himself. Bitterly, he leaned against his leather chair, crossing both arms on his chest. All he knew was that he was not in the mood and he didn't want to have to walk out of the office to see That Morgan Boy picking at his teeth in front of the conference room's glass walls. Although, it couldn't be any worse than encountering that bloody poltergeist at such an early hour. Hoshino badly wanted a cup of coffee, but was it worth the trip? It was like she could sniff him out from the after life. |
Figures the boss man gets a fancy schmancy office, although it was a shame that said "boss man" was one Ian Hoshino. Insufferable arrogant jerkface. Really. They were friends. Hunter knocked on his door before tugging her trim vest back into place. She was so professional. "Excuse me, Ian?" |
That didn't sound like the one person (if you could call her that) he wished to not see today. Breathing with relief, he shifted his weight in the chair before speaking. "Come in," he announced, stifling a yawn. "Door's open." Hopefully, this someone was bringing him coffee, yes? Perhaps? |
Hunter marched into the office and carefully set paperwork squarely in front of him. Editor-in-Chief. He still looked just like an Ian Hoshino to her. "My expense report for the trip to Venice. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at how much under budget I managed to be. And maybe we want to create some sort of regular feature on budget traveling, since that seems to be all we can afford." |
It was just good ole Hunter Bones. Dropping his erect posture, Hoshino reached over the desk. "I didn't expect anything less from you, Hunter," quipped Ian, pulling the paperwork towards him. "You seem to be quite good at it." A natural, even. Perhaps in Bones' case, it was a way of living. "Economy isn't doing very well," he murmured, opening a desk drawer to stash the papers in. Hoshino would be reading those later. "Then again, when is it? A witch is always interested in learning how to make their knuts stretch." At least he supposed they did. Ian was no witch and he certainly wasn't in any need to cut back on his spending. |
"Yes, I'm shockingly good at living off leftovers and mystery meat stews," Hunter planted herself quite comfortably in the seat across from his desk. Yup. Staying for a while. "I brought you back a gift. Something you desperately need. And I didn't even put it on the expense report. Came out of my own pocket." |
"Explains why you're such a hardy woman," he stated, fulling intending it to be a compliment. "Ingesting unidentifiable meats can either make you or break you." The world was always open to interpretation. Ian just hoped Hunter wasn't going to take it too badly. Especially considering she had just brought him a gift. That by itself was suspicious. A brow rose instinctively, as Ian tucked his tongue behind his molars. "How considerate of you," he murmured after a few seconds thoughts. "Is this present inanimate or will it require some kind of feeding? I'm not good with animals." |
"Hardy?" Her voice rose only slightly, and Hunter gave her midsection a gentle poke before returning her attention to him. He... was really good at getting under her skin. And he knew it. She grinned at him, unexpectedly and a little fiercely. "Sometimes they make and break you at the same time, unfortunately." Unfortunately. "It's inanimate. Magical." She pulled a little phial from her satchel and tossed it in his direction. Catch. |
That grin answered his questions. Hunter had taken it badly. Ian supposed it could have been worse. Clumsily, he caught the vial. Clearly, Hoshino was not known for his quick reflexes. It was why that old ruddy golf bag did him in every single time. Thank Merlin he managed to shove it in the archives along with Rumpos. They could keep each other company. "What is this?" he asked, wiggling the vial before bringing it close to his nose. "I hope this isn't a love potion. Poison maybe?" |
"Oh, you nearly got it in one," Hunter laughed at him as she slid deeper into her seat. "Not a love potion, really, but a charm. I got it from a genuine Italian strega and she said it will make the holder lucky in love. Which... I hear you need." And she smirked at him. |
"Oh," exclaimed Ian, slightly disappointed. He was expecting it to be a poison at the very least. Clearing his throat, he pocketed the vial in the inside of his wizard robes. "It's nice to know I'm always on your mind, Hunter, even while you're on business. However, this was highly unnecessary." Ian did not need luck in love. What he needed was to stay away from it, despite whatever his Mother said. He'd just pass on the vial to first depressed looking person he saw. "I have no plans in dealing with love." |
"No, I don't blame you. I made the mistake of letting her tell my fortune and..." At this, Hunter made a face. "Let's just say it wasn't particularly complimentary to my character. I suppose I should have asked her about yours, but I don't think it's my business." Even if he was determined to make it all of theirs. Public figure, Hoshino. Did he really think he could do anything without good journalists knowing about it? "Relax, Hoshino. It's just a joke gift. Use it as a paperweight. Give it to one of the little princess girlies you've hired around here, still foolish enough to think it'll do them any good. It won't offend me." |
Ian would have liked to point out that Hunter, as a witch, shouldn't be wasting coins on fortune tellers. If she really wanted to know about her future she could have tried looking into a tea cup and see where that had gotten her. However, he supposed he had pushed her limits enough as it was with that hardy comment. "Princess Girlies," he repeated with a breezy chuckle. "I can't imagine who you're referring to but I am going to go ahead and come up with some wild conclusion that you're not particularly fond of them." |
"More designer shoes out there than in the closet at Teen Witch," Hunter quipped. "I like them just fine, but I envy their wardrobe... and their budget. I spend my paycheck on Thai takeaway and new tube socks for Tolliver. I wish I could afford to be a pretty princess girlie." Not really, though... Merlin help anyone who thought Hunter Bones could pull off anything pink and flouncy. |
"Sounds like the only one keeping you from being a princess is yourself," he retorted, playing with a horribly boring square paperweight that had been on his desk. Ian wasn't sure how it got there. All he knew was that he certainly hoped this Tolliver was her cat. Although, he couldn't fathom why wanted to put tube socks on a cat. |
"I suppose," she said slowly. "Well, I'll let you get back to your fascinating... paperweight. I have to bother Jane and see if she's feng shui'd herself to death yet. When can I expect that check?" Funny that she wasn't moving yet. |
Paperweight in his hands, Ian stopped turning it long enough to glance up at Hunter through his lashes. More often than not, Hoshino had no idea what went through Bone's pretty head. At first, he had tried figuring out but declared it a lost cause. Perhaps it was all the better if he remained permanently clueless about the workings of Hunter Bones. "By the end of the week, Friday," he answered solemnly, placing the paperweight back on the desk. "You're going to bother the section editors? I think I'll go supervise and make sure no one has stuck frilly curtains on the walls." Or plastered Quidditch men calendars all over the place. That was too much tacky for him to handle at once. |
"Ian Hoshino, as I live and breathe," Hunter put a hand to her chest and performed a VERY passable Southern belle impersonation. "You wish to escort me to that den of iniquity?" You know... 'cause anywhere that the prim and lovely Jane was set up had all sorts of iniquity. "I accept. I am flattered more than I can say." |
Unable to hold back a snort, Ian decided to stand up from his seat. At least his actions would cloud the horrible noise that left him. "Words sometimes are entirely unnecessary," he coached Hunter, walking past her to open the door of his office. "After you." |
Quote:
She slid past him out the door. |
Doing barrel rolls and loop-de-loops in the air, Mangig whizzed through the window, unaware of the fact that he was extremely lucky it was open. Bouncing off the opposite wall (to the untrained eye, it would look as if he'd collided, but he totally, totally had meant to do that, thank you), the small owl whirled in circles around the office, swooping low every other time and threatening to knock any taller objects off the desk. A letter was clenched in his small, sharp owly talons. Quote:
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Something had to be done about the monthly visit to the Prophet vault at Gringott's. Wasn't there a way of forcing someone to go on his behalf and then Obliviating to maintain all secrecy? Pondering his not so legal options, Ian Hoshino pushed the door to his office open, bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers. What he found wasn't making his day any better nor was it giving him any other good ideas--save the idea to stunt the owl immobile. Humming, Hoshino glanced at the open window. He walked to it, shutting it close. How that had gotten open, he had no idea. It wouldn't happen again though. Ian reached for his wand, sealing the window down. No more pesky owls in the future. "Let's get one thing clear bird," spoke Hoshino, putting his wand back into its holster "If you so much as think of doing your necessities anywhere in my office, I will burn you alive and pay the post office for a new owl. Now come here!" finished the man, lunging towards the whizzing owl. |
Ziiiiip. Zip zip zi- Oh a man. Mangig may have paused for half a second, large eyes turning to the angry person who'd come in. However, he immediately sped around in a circle again, bumping into the ceiling and dive-bombing toward the floor before. Right between the grumpy guy's hands. Hehehehe. The owl might have let out the owl equivalent of a giggle if it hadn't collided with the floor in the next moment. Bounce bounce bounce hop. Whoops. STARE. |
Hoshino was convinced. The owl skipping and sliding around his office floor had to be the dumbest bird he had ever had the misfortune of meeting. Sighing, the editor ran a large hand down his face. "Alright, bird," he said, kneeling next to the collapsed animal to unravel the string from its leg. Ian took the piece of parchment, unrolled it and read the note. Ian hummed before turning his attention back to the owl. "You're strange." Hoshino opened up the door to his office and nodded out to the corridor. "Fly out through there. If you can go and defecate on the secretary's head on your way out, all the better." |
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