It had been mercifully quiet today, and Kenrick was counting his blessings. He'd not quite realised quite how taxing a newborn could be. At least there was no more debating on choosing a name; they'd settled on Spencer, and that headache was over.

But another, much more literal, headache had remained. No doubt stemming from lack of sleep and the effect of piercing baby screams, it was a real doozy. Coming into work ended up being like a holiday, and it was total bliss when all he had to do was stay in the office. In the quiet. Ahhh.

Except it hadn't been quiet for long. Someone was out in reception, and nooooobody else seemed to be willing to see to them. Or maybe there was just nobody else available. But WHATEVER. Kenrick would GO.

He stepped through the door and out into reception, spotting the culprit visitor immediately. Hmmm. Okay.

"Can I help you?" he asked the bloke, looking him up and down. Hmm. Looked familiar. But not familiar enough that Kenrick instantly recognised him. He blamed that on the headache.

The process.

The process for submitting an editorial.

Kenrick gave a great internal sigh, but was careful not to let any sort of unprofessionalism show on his face. Sure, this was work, and work meant people, but would it be too late to get someone else out to deal with this while he went to get a headache potion and finished badgering people for quotes and statements? ... No. The answer was no. Sigh. INTERNAL SIGH. Outward smile. Customer service. Kind of.

"Kenrick," the reporter said in reply, shaking the other man, Carter's, hand. Knowing the name had done nothing to jog his memory, which was... "The Prophet has a system where anyone can owl in and submit news, articles, editorials, and the like. We review it. Sometimes it gets published." Short and sweet and to the point. "...... What are you thinking of writing about?" It was a logical jump that this Carter guy was asking about this for himself, after all.

For Kaaaaaath!
 

.

.

.

Was he in the right place?

After sending out packets to various publications, Gabriel had been hoping to snag an internship. For the sake of gaining some experience. He'd gotten the go ahead to do big things next term and because he was utterly determined to succeed, places such as the Daily Prophet and WHiM were necessary. Luckily enough for him, he'd gotten both. Reputable publications with YEARS of experience under their collective belts.

Arriving at the Daily Prophet in a suit, due to Mr. Emerson being adamant to their appeal and professionalism, Gabe carefully made his way to the receptionist's desk, hand tucked in his pocket. "I'm here for a..." He paused and double checked the name on the owl. "...Mr. Basil Skeeter?"

Kendrick. Carter nodded. He'd remember that. He'd gotten a lot better at names. He blamed that on the quidditch and governor thing. Lots of people, lots of names, lots of things to remember to not offend anyone.

He nodded again. "Seems easy enough." In fact, had he been thinking, that would have been what he'd guessed would have been the process.

Heh. Whoops. Maybe he shouldn't be writing. He didn't really think things through very well.

"Hogwarts." Well. That's what caught his eye anyway. And being on the Board, he felt like he might sometimes have relevant things to say.

Not that that was the only thing he did. He had kids and played quidditch and practically owned a zoo. That made him have opinions on things, right?

I was going to Polyvore but gave up ^^
 

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Oh, this was the right place, then.

Accepting the box from the eccentrically dressed man, Gabriel tucked it beneath his arm. Mr. Skeeter's clothing of choice didn't throw him so much...as he'd been meeting many eccentric people as of late. The crazier, the more brilliant....right?

"Yes, Mr. Skeeter." He was getting very good at being a 'yes' boy....man....person. He was of age now...So...a man.

The most comforting thing, perhaps out of all of it, was that this man, like Mr. Emerson, seemed very controlled and professional. So, Gabe could adapt to that....Since he'd been doing so for WHiM. It would essentially be....keep your head down, do your work, and listen closely. Things Gabes did best.

Can I get in on this? *does anyway*
 

*cracking up over h'er*
 

His....hands?

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.

Gabriel watched closely as the man first sprayed his own hands...and then turned the bottle in his direction. It was confusing...as they would still touch door knobs...and germs were practically airborne, anyhow. IF this was due to germs. He didn't point it out, however. It was being chalked up to the 'crazy, yet brilliant' thing...and not his place to say a word.

Holding the box in place, he awkwardly presented his hands to Mr. Skeeter.....suddenly hearing someone chime in nearby...

O.o

Attempting not to stumble over his words too much, Gabe fought the urge to stuff his hands back into his pants pockets; an anxious habit he'd picked up from WHiM. ".....Gabriel Banner....ma'am." There was some throat clearing before and after that answer, as well. Did he seem flushed? He might've been terribly flushed...ahem.

.__.
 

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.

One would think that spraying ONCE would be enough. Clearly not Mr. Skeeter, however. The man had decided to pulverize the Ravenclaw's hands; dousing them repeatedly with whatever substance was in the bottle. Gabriel, who was continuing to keep his mouth shut, blinked awkwardly at him...and then the redhead, in turn.

Their exchange was an uncomfortable one. Mostly because Gabe knew about uncomfortable exchanges...as that's what most of his could be classified as. It wasn't shameful and he wasn't embarrassed by it. It was simply true.

...and he was selfishly pleased that there wouldn't be much heavy lifting involved in his work. Writing assignments and personal errands. That seemed straightforward enough. And Gabe enjoyed writing. Everyone won...or could win. He wasn't sure how the saying went precisely.

"......" The 'Checking out Victoria like she is a library book' comment made the Ravenclaw do a double take...and he WAS flushing. Brightly. Not daring to look towards her again, he cleared his throat and, again, awkwardly nodded when she mentioned about coming to find her later. Yes. Sure. He'd....get right on that....

....and he might've....glanced at her bum....as she walked away. Gabe really hadn't meant to...It'd just been he'd been looking in that direction and she'd turned...and........you know?

"I'm ready to get started, sir." Ahem.

*quick declone before bed*
 

Kenrick nodded in return, slowly, thoughtfully. Mhmm, yes. It was quite easy, but then he worked here, so getting in touch with Basil and submitting an article was as simple as walking up to him and placing the parchment in his probably-well-sanitised hands.

... "Hogwarts." He repeated, suddenly looking just a smidge more interested. Anyone who knew Kenrick well would know his, uh... feelings about the school, and the way it was run, and why on earth the blasted place was still open. Of course, not many people knew Kenrick well at all, and he had a tendency to keep a lot of his opinions to himself, especially when he didn't know exactly who he was talking to. Face to face, at least. Articles were a whole 'nother story. "I'm sure we'd appreciate anything you have to submit. It's always helpful to hear different... opinions." Yes. Yep. Although now Kenrick was curious about what this guy had to say, but he wasn't going to ask just like that. "In fact, I encourage it."

He thought about adding something about how schools were such an important topic because children are the future, but that felt like pushing it.

Carter had gotten good at reading people. He blamed it on playing politics and playing nice with quidditch reporters.

That, and having a wife that always was craving chocolate.

Of course, none of his people skills were needed with how this guy used the word opinions.

"It sounds like you have opinions of your own." Carter wasn't quite sure what he meant by that. Maybe it was a challenge? Maybe it was interest? Maybe he was just curious as to if this guy had some insight.

Eyebrows were being raised. Only an infinitesimal amount, only for a second, but perhaps enough to be noticed by the right (or wrong? hopefully not wrong) person.

"Oh, I do," Kenrick replied, his tone light and airy. Or, well, as light and airy as he could conceivably get it, the grump. He considered the bloke for a moment or two longer, tapping his fingers on the counter. Then, before the silence got too long or awkward (in his mind, at least), he finally spoke again. In a very measured way, because he still wasn't sure of exactly who he was talking to. "Opinions as a result of experiences. Can't say the place has a great track record."

to the man's office!
 

Huzzah! *follows*
 

So this, was the man of the hour. Mathis' eyes skittered over him, unconcerned with the way his own eyed him up and down. He took more time in his assessment, catching the fray in clothing here, the loose stitch there and the unknown stain there.

A small, private smile played at the corners of his lips, rising and falling as his gaze did. It ended up that his attention on the man's shoes had him following him, pulled forward by the gait and stride with which he moved.

He didn't even notice the receptionist, or her distraught state. She had already been ruled out.

Carter tilted his head ever so slightly. It was like this guy was trying to figure out who he was, but couldn't quite place him. That was not a reaction the quidditch player was used to.

"Personal experiences?" he asked. Just out of curiosity. As for the terrible track record, he agreed. But he wasn't going to say that. As a Governor, he didn't want to come across that way.

Ali
 

Everyday was more and more frustrating to him, he had been coming back into work part time trying to get his life back, trying to be part of society again. It was rough, somethings had come back easily others were not coming at all it seemed. He needed a break from his desk so getting up he made his way out towards the reception area most likely to head out of the office for a bit.

What he didn't expect was a woman and a crying woman at that coming into the building. He looked around as his anxiety picked up hoping someone anyone could help her that wasn't sounding like an idiot from healing issues.

No it was only him and the secretary, so taking a deep breath he walked over and gave a concerned look. "Can I.. I help you?"