[IC] The Office

[Morose]

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Aidan Ferguson

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Location: His Office; Dunder Mifflin --> Main Office Area; Dunder Mifflin

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"So...This is a...What did you call it again? Yeah, yeah, a living documentary. Isn't that just what you lot call reality TV...? Really? It seems like the same bloody thing to me, gents." Aidan Ferguson, Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin New Castle, shrugged at the camera, rolling his eyes a bit as he did so. His suit, crafted from Italian silk, appeared to be impeccable. The camera shifted its focus from Aidan's face, subtly zooming in on a glass of scotch sitting in front of him at the table. Noticing the new angle, Aidan chuckled a bit.

"I need something to keep myself going," Aidan explained, lifting up the glass and taking a swig. "These poor bastards, they act like I'm Mum and they've cut their bloody arms off!"

Shaking his head a bit, Aidan glanced up, looking directly into the camera once more. "Why did I come to Dunder Mifflin? Well...It's simple, really. I like winning," Aidan replied, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sure, Scranton kicks our arses in sales, but otherwise, New Castle is a castle in its own rights. We're like warriors, pillaging and raping and murdering and closing deals...Rather heroic and dashing, if you ask me."

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Aidan waltzed out of his office, taking a moment to observe his minions, away at work. There was Rose, shy and cheerful, dutifully answering the phones. Glancing at a pad of paper on her desk, Aidan frowned, recalling her less than desirable background. Shifting his gaze, his lip curled. The bane of his existence, Chris Meyer, hadn't shown up yet for work. As much as he despised Chris, he hated lateness even more.

"Where's Meyer?" Aidan asked, walking towards the center of the room. He wouldn't have been surprised if the bastard had hid himself underneath a table, sitting with a pie, ready to throw it towards Aidan. Seeing him nowhere, Aidan sighed, shaking his head morosely. "Fischer, dock his pay again--he's all all bum and parsley."

A glance at the clock revealed that it was 9:00 AM. They were due to have a meeting on the infiltration into their personal lives, as Aidan doubted anyone bothered to read the memos. He could hardly understand the appeal himself, making a TV show style documentary, with each episode and each season focusing on a different aspect of the monotonous life of paper salesmen. Perhaps Gwen would understand--he made a note to ask the lass later.

"Meeting, conference room, five minutes," Aidan announced. He paused, looking at each of his workers in turn. "Heid doon arse up!"

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Gwen Westbrook

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Location: Her Desk (9), Main Office Area; Dunder Mifflin

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Gwen brushed a bit of her hair behind her shoulder, nodding a bit. "So...what's this for again?" she asked, fidgeting in the chair. She paused, comprehension washing over her face. "Ah, okay. Yeah, I guess this place is okay...I mean, they never give me enough work to do, so I'm constantly bored...I read a lot of books in my spare time." She smiled awkwardly, but continued to face the camera dead on. As awkward as her mannerisms indicated her to be, she didn't ever look away. She faced it straight on.

"I want to be a homicide detective," Gwen explained, answering the camera crew's question. "So this place doesn't really help but...Well, if anyone is killed via paper jam, I'll be able to solve the case with my eyes closed."

An honest smile played on her face, and she nodded again. "I wouldn't call it stalking just...I like to observe the other people here...without them knowing I'm following them...Is that bad?"

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Already nine o'clock, and Gwen had finished her work for the day. For some absurd reason, no one ever gave her anything challenging to do. Sometimes Rose would have her help make copies, but distributing the morning memos and checking in with the heads of each department hardly took any time. The worst part was that she couldn't just leave. They paid her by the hour.

Cracking open a copy of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Gwen prepared herself for today's binge reading session. Her desk had a stack of five lengthy volumes ready to be opened, as she knew that the play wouldn't be able to keep her occupied past lunch. Dracula was next on her to-read list, though truthfully, she knew that college admissions essays perhaps deserved more of her attention.

Her eyes comically widening and her smile becoming straight lipped, she couldn't have looked more like Jim Halpert as she watched Aidan on his morning rant. None of it was directed towards her, of course. If anything, he'd come over and try out the latest parenting technique he learned from Nana. Her exaggerated facial expression turned quickly into a grimace at the thought. She got enough parenting at home. She didn't want an angry Scot to do it as well.

However, she couldn't help but return to a better mood. Five minutes was plenty of time for her to finish at least another scene. Returning her focus to her play, she zoned the rest of the office out.

It was one of her many talents.

[Bee]

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Emily Kessler

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Her Desk (16) -> Main Office; Dunder Mifflin
outfit

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"What do I do here? The answer is right behind me." The IT Specialist of Dunder Mifflin's New Castle Branch sat casually in her seat, rotating the chair just enough so that her computer's monitor was in view. It showed a large version of Dunder Mifflin's logo, with some tiny icons neatly organized into a corner on the upper left side of her desktop. "I've been the IT person in this office for about three years." The Caucasian girl from California raised her eyebrows, and chuckled. "Generally I just help people around the office do things like figure out why the internet isn't working for them, or repair the printer after a certain somebody spills coffee on it. But, I've seen some crazy stuff go down on these computers. Everything they do -" Emily paused momentarily and looked around, before putting her hand up around her mouth, "- I see." Emily was very, very sure that nobody knew that she was able to see everyone's browsing habits on the computer of hers. The ability was given to her just in case something really bad happened. Being the type of person she was, Emily kept quiet about people slacking off and browsing social media during work time. It was mostly attributed to the fact that she also did that herself.

"I didn't really grow up dreaming of working as an IT specialist for a paper company across the country. But here I am, and quite frankly I don't see myself leaving soon. I love it here and I haven't looked back since." Emily shrugged, "But there are those days that just make me want to dart out of here, back into my apartment, and soak in a nice, bubbly bath for a good hour or two, some Denzel Curry blasting on the sound system, and a nice glass of wine." Emily smiled at the camera again, "But that doesn't happen often." The camera zoomed in on her Russell Wilson bobblehead, Emily promptly bopping it on the top. The comedically sized head bounced around as the camera zoomed back out, revealing Emily yet again as she laughed lightly.

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A visit from Gwen earlier in the day had bestowed the gift of another one of bossman's famed memos. The one she had actually bothered to read had actually mentioned that there was a meeting about the camera crew that was going to be a part of their work life for a bit. Emily didn't mind this at all. She wondered what all of this was going to add up to. Was it going to a TV show? A movie documentary? All Emily had found out was that there was going to be a camera crew documenting their lives. Why paper salesmen? There were plenty more interesting than the people of Dunder Mifflin - New Castle. If they wanted something interesting they should've just filmed Chris or Eugene. Chris because he's probably the most entertaining person in the office, and Eugene to see whether or not if she actually spoke fluent English.

The meeting was going to happen around 9 o'clock, and it wasn't exactly 9 o'clock just yet so Emily had some time. There was also the mass exodus into the conference room, and everyone took decades to find their seats. Right now Emily was just chilling and reading up on the latest about her beloved football team, the Seattle Seahawks. Were they known as a bandwagon team? Yes. Did she just happen to like a bunch of bandwagon teams before they became really popular? Sure. Emily was a devout sports fan, but never in a billion years would she accept being called a bandwagoner for ANY team.

She looked at the time on her computer, and since she had read pretty much everything that was worth reading on her websites so far, she decided to make her way to the conference room. There wasn't really nothing to do so she figured she'd just get into the conference room early and get a seat in the back so she could space out without being caught. She locked her computer, the screen becoming a stern warning to those that came across it that Emily was the only person who could unlock her computer. She left her desk adorned with various sports memorabilia and walked into the kitchen as it was the only way from the little sub section she worked in to the main office.

But her timing was poor as she walked into one of Aidan's famous tirades. Luckily it was on the trail end of it, so Emily was able to avoid being the recipient of it. Some way, somehow, the conference room had been set up in its presentation arrangement. She had no idea where the table went when the room was reorganized in that way. Looking into the room, it seemed pretty weird for Emily to be the first and only person in the room.

[Sovi3t]

Moe Williamson

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Parking Lot Dunder Muffin 8AM -> Dunder Miffin Office Floor

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Moe got out of his Lexus as the Camera crew zoomed him getting out. They watched every step he took. Fixing up his branded tie, even to zoom in on the brand of it, adjusting his coat, him spraying another set of cologne on his body, grabbing his laptop bag with his Macbook pro and even him popping a breath mint into his mouth. Finally he grabbed onto his Starbucks Iced Coffee, slung his laptop bag to his shoulder and walked towards the camera crew. ”So you the camera crew… hey is that you Timmy from fifth grade how you doing pal?” Moe asked as he talked with one of the camera crew members, the camera was then aimed to the Starbucks logo on his Iced Coffee. The conversation ensued for a few moments before the supervisor told them to go back and record something more meaningful. ”Catch ya’ later Timmy!” Moe said before going into the office, having a sip of his iced coffee

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Dunder Muffin Main Floor -> Moe’s Desk.

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Moe walked towards his desk, not paying anyone attention as he beelined to his desk. He set aside his coffee, and his computer, before placing the macbook pro with it’s neon lime green cover on the desk. He also placed a pad of sticky notes, a agenda book and a few papers, with various names on them. The camera surveyed the neat arrangement before it looked back at Moe. ”Why am I so organized? Simple.. I prefer everything in a place where I know it can be, and thus it’s simply placed, pleasing to the eye you see? Moe then sat down and adjusted a few of his set pieces, including the baseball. Who’s that signed by? Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez. I’m a Yankee’s fan, sure we are going through tough times but this baseball you see here in this cube show’s us anything can shine.. Well the outside atleast Moe then picked up a phone. Dunder Muffin Shipping Rep… yea Jane from… oh… oh ok, uh.. Right.. Mhm.. sure, right I’ll uh talk with Gerry and see if I can do anything if not you gotta talk with the guy from the Scranton branch.. Ye Billy. No not Billy Bob, the other billy. Yea he’s a creep but you gotta make scarfices.. Uh huh In the background Aiden call’s for a meeting. Listen, I got a meeting, email me and I’ll reply to you in 48 hours ok? Moe then hung up. F**king interns

[AbysmalDemon]

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Chris Meyer

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Front Doors of Dunder Mifflin, New Castle, 9:03

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Chris walked into the building, eyeing the camera crew suspiciously, until he finally came to realization. "Ah, so your the new camera crew I heard about," Chris said putting down his satchel on a bench and pulled out a small blue case. The camera zoomed in and revealed that they were contacts, colored 'slightly bloodshot'. There was a strange 'P' on the case with the words 'PrankBox', under it. Chris put the contacts in, and his eyes indeed looked bloodshot. He then pulled out another black case and inside was a dropped filled with water. He put drops on his eyes and under them, letting the water run down his cheeks.

"What am I doing? I'm getting out of being late? I know your confused, but you'll see." Chris proceeded to pull out yet another small case which contained a small make up brush, and purple makeup. He brushed it under his eyes and a little on his eyelids. He dropped more water on his checks and eyes and put everything back in his satchel. It looked like he had been crying! "It's go time."

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Chris walked into the office, looking away from the rest of the office. His acting was spot on. The camera crew followed him into Aidan's office. "I'm so sorry sir," Chris said and he fake sniffled, rubbing his nose, "I know you probably docked my pay, b-but I just was on the phone with my mother, and I found out that my grandmother passed away. We were v-very close and, a-and, I'm sorry I can't. I just need to get to work." Chris rushed out he last sentence, and he dashed out of Aidan's office, fake crying. Chris winked at the camera and the. Sat down at his desk. When he was sure Aidan wasn't looking he took out the contacts, brushed off the make-up with his hand, and wiped off the water with a tissue. "If there's one thing you need to know about me, it's that I take pranks more seriously than work."

Chris looked at his watch. It was almost 9:05. He got us from his desk and headed toward the conference room. "So now that you know a little about me, let's see what you're all about."

[The Whacko]

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Eduard Dautrive

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His Desk (15) -> Main Office; Dunder Mifflin

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"Eduard LaFontaine De La Teur Dautrive; I'm the head of HR here at Dunder Mifflin. More or less a self-explainatory job title there." The hulking Cajun smiled to the camera as he leaned back in his office chair, a short, thin cigar sitting smoking in the cheap ashtray in front of him, wafting the pungent cloud out the window under a sign that emphatically declared 'No Smoking'. "Hiring, payroll, keeping this place an effective and supportive work enviornment. That's my gig here, been at it for three years and it's looking bright as ever." Almost on cue, he could hear Aidan shouting outside his office, as he always did at this time of morning. This time it was about coffee. Again. Ed sighed and took a puff on his cigar, exhaling out the window as he listened to Aidan scream."Got a few challenges now and then as you might expect from an office like this, but I like to think that we're one big family here."

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The morning was as typical as could be for this office. Most of the staff was here, with a few stragglers stumbling in and trying to avoid Aidan's wrath, as he'd already begun his daily epileptic fit. Ed listened to most of his boss' ravings, seeing as they accounted for the source of most of his complaints. Today it seemed that Chris would be the one visiting him in the office, no real surprise there. He sighed, taking a long pull of his Irished-up coffee and started out of his office, knowing that it would time for the weekly meeting soon enough. He nodded over to Gwen, hooked into the book adaption of the Harry Potter play his kids had begged him to take them to see.

"Yep." He said rather casually, sipping at his drink again slowly as he eyed Aidan with a shake of his head. He was thinking about starting up a betting pool on when the man would give himself a stroke. That would just be mean, though. He turned back to Gwen, then. "So, what's Rowling printing these days then? Kids have been begging me non-stop to get 'em a copy first chance I get." The big Cajun drained the last of his drink then, tossing the empty cup in the general direction of the nearest trash can, missing by about two feet. Well, he'd been a tackle for a reason.

[sakurasan]

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Alastair Abbey

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Location: His Desk (7) -> Gwen's desk

Interactions: Eugene (@Fabricant451) -- Eduard (@The Whacko) -- Gwen (@Morose

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"What is that? That camera is huge. Really big. Wait. Ah, are you already videotaping this?" Alastair stared at the camera, leaning in and pulling his head back when he heard that it was already recording. "I work as a salesman. I think I am a good one. I work very hard." Sometimes, his English didn't seem like it was the best but it was mostly his accent and the way he spoke. "What do I do?...I sell, sir." He said it simply, not understanding the question very well until they asked the question for the second time. "I am one of the ones that sell the products to buyers in exchange for compensation."

"Working here is very good. My family gets by well with the pay here." He says, smiling. "People are very nice too." He continues, the camera zooming in on one of his eyes and getting unfocused before it has his face and shoulders in the shot. Alastair takes a sip out of the water sitting by him.

He looks from side to side, his attention wavering before he turns back to the camera. "I came to Dunder Mifflin because I needed a more stable job. Something long term and paid well. My daughter likes to go shopping. Shopping with friends and that costs money." The camera zooms in on a picture of his sister holding Zannia when she was just 20 minutes old. He turns to the picture and smiles. "Good luck photo. Very good luck. Gives me more motivation every day."

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Alastair had a box of cookies on his desk that the people that worked there knew was for whoever wanted to eat them. He usually passed them out but was exhausted after talking to Zannia about how she had a boyfriend that wanted to take her to school. He was 16. Alastair walked over to Eugene's table, setting a cookie that was on a napkin on her desk.

"Good morning to you. Cookie? It is good. I got it at a new bakery." He said, smiling a toothy smile before he walked past her desk and into the kitchen. He had no idea if he ate the cookies that he gave her but oh well. He had gotten used to handing the cookies to her himself and loved giving new flowers from the flower shop to her if they had a good meaning. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he took a sip and closed the refrigerator. This day had been going fine. They had a meeting in 5 minutes but he could ask someone a question real quick. Walking out of the kitchen with his cup in hand, Alastair walked over to Gwen and Eduard.

"Good morning. I have a question for you two. Do... Do 14 year olds date? What if they're 16 year olds?" He looked up at them and took another sip of the drink.

[samreaper]

@morose

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Gerald Fischer

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His desk(5)-> Main office floor; Dunder Mifflin

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' is it working?' His words barely audible and a look of understanding on his face as he adjusted the mic causing faint scratching sounds. One more tweak before looking back up at the camera.'How bout now? ah its good then?'Giving a warm and friendly smile; one that hardly, if ever left the man's face, adjusting himself in the seat to give the camera a good angle of his desk.'You don't get to hear often that you'll be on t.v then bam!'A faint thump of that right armed clamp punching against his left palm as a mocked punch.' Out of the blue find that a camera crew would be following you...I mean *laughs* colored me surprised the moment I found out and instantly I was on board.'A shake of his head as he let out a sigh of relief.

Leaning back in his seat with the creak of his wheeled chair to hold out his arms both to present and welcome.'What can I say but you made a good choice picking us. You'll come to find out just how great everyone in this office is.'Lifting his head after hearing a question and gave the cameraman a brief nod and sat up in his seat.' Oh right! not here for that so guess that will be for later then.' Raising his right arm to clear his throat against the clamped arm.'Did I expect to end up working here? Well can't say that I did and I'm darn glad to find myself here. Eight years in this office; back when this office was just getting off its feet and not one single day do I regret walking through those doors.' Leaning onto his left arm as he chuckled mostly to himself, briefly lost in his reminiscing before snapping back to reality as he glanced at the camera then over his desk and eyes widened as he remembered something and made to grab for it.

Pulling back his right arm, holding it up to reveal a cute pikachu figurine.'Can't forget to mention that today's figurine is..Pikachu! This whole pokemon fad always seems to be popular.' Giving the little pikachu a wiggle to the camera in its way of waving hello.

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Just another normal, casual day at the office; the constant click and clack of keyboards, the salesman and women talking to clients on their phones while others currently set ringing. And of course another of Mr. Ferguson's daily rants; an occurrence that happens a couple times a day and those are the good one.

Even after eight years and still he has not grown tired of seeing his fellow coworkers doing their job. Each one of them a vital part that ensured the firm continued strong and sure it was always sad to see someone leave for good, but that simply meant a chance to meet new people to make friends with. In fact, a new person recently joined the accounting family as he glanced over at Temperance and gave the young lady, Miss venelle, a friendly wave as he couldn't wait to teach her the ropes.

That would have to wait at the moment as he perked his head up. ""Fischer, dock his pay again--he's all all bum and parsley."" A rather common thing he was told to do.' If you feel that's what needed to be done.'Far be it from him to talk back to the boss and though having their pay docked seemed bad to most, but considering it was already being docked that meant Chris could take it easy today.

Turning to his computer where he clicked the mouse with the clamp to do just that, when, speak of the devil, the very cause of their boss's rant this time walked in. Like the others he had looked up to find Mr. Meyer seemingly crying; telling about how his grandmother had passed away.' Ah..see Mr. Ferguson? Surely one can't fault the man for grieving over a lost loved one.' It was never easy for a person to lose someone and one can't blame the person for being late.*A fresh plate of homemade cookies just might cheer up Mrs. Meyers.* He mused to himself while scratching the clamped hand against his cheek as he pondered.

Well..whether the pay docking was happening or not, it would be put on hold after hearing Mr. Ferguson's announcement of a meeting in five minutes. This likely had to do with the documentary explained in the mass memo sent out to everyone and certainly was intrigued to learn more about it.

One thing he knew for certain; this could very well make life at the office all the more enjoyable and all he can say to that it is just super duper!

[Fabricant451]

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Eugene Han

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Dunder Mifflin -> Her Desk

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Honestly, Eugene wasn't a fan of the sudden camera crew and if she had had her voice heard when it was mentioned at a meeting perhaps things would've been different. Ever since that documentary of the Scranton branch came out it seemed like every branch was hoping for another slice of the pie and that was the last thing New Castle needed, more reasons to goof off and shirk responsibility. But what could she do except grin and bear it? Well, bear it for sure but grin? That was a bit out of the question.

It was alarming how many seemed so willing to accept that their otherwise menial day-to-day was now under the scrutiny of impartial eyes and cameras, but perhaps that was exactly the reason why. Anything to break up the monotony. Such an excuse would be understandable if half the people on the floor actually did what they were hired to do. Chris spent more time trying to find ways NOT to work that by this point he had to have been making less than what they make at McDonald's. Declan, when he was bored (which was far too often) was instigating, and all this without bringing up the goo-goo eyes and awkward flirtations that happened on a near-daily basis.

An unwanted perk of her 'condition' meant she was privy to certain rumors and happenings with her co-workers. Whether they knew it or not.

Ever since her arrival that morning, one of the folks behind the camera had been wanting to get her to do a, as they put it, 'talking head'. Eugene knew the vernacular, she was well versed in the realm of reality television. There was just one little problem. Well...a few problems....

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"Nae ileum-eun yujin hajiman myeoch gaji hablijeog-in e daehan-" Eugene spoke to the camera that practically ambushed her before she could even get settled. She didn't manage to get her entire thought out before she was informed that no one on the production crew spoke Korean nor did they have the funds to get a translator. That was enough to get Eugene to end the little 'interview' on the spot. The last thing she needed was for some strangers - assuming this even made it to air - mocking her because of her English speaking ability, or lack thereof. Or, worse, her co-workers finding out that she'd been lying to them for six years.

It wasn't supposed to happen like that, it was just Eugene's way of focusing on work in the office and socializing outside of the office, but somehow the socialization aspect never came up...probably because no one wanted to associate with someone who couldn't understand them. Really, the idea of 'pretending to not speak English' was not the most well thought out plan but at the time it seemed preferable than coming across as the lonely woman who puts her all into her work because it's all she has in her life.

Which, unfortunately, was true about Eugene.

"My name is," Eugene began to blink and speak rather slowly, her voice carrying an accent that was half genuine, half put upon (she'd never lose that Korean slant to her voice, but when she wasn't pretending few could tell she wasn't a native speaker), in order to simply introduce herself to the crew. "Yoo Jin Han. From Korea. Every-won calls me 'Eugene' but...no..Yoo Jin. Y-O-O J-I-N." To Eugene's ears, Yoo Jin and Eugene sounded nothing alike despite her saying them damn near identically. "Six years, I been here. Sales...head....Head sales." With that serving as her introduction, Eugene gave the camera a half-hearted thumbs up and walked off frame to sit at her desk.

This was still an office, after all.

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Eugene was at her desk just long enough for her to boot up the computer before Alistair came around and placed a cookie on her desk. Sometimes it was flowers. Today it was cookies. Eugene offered the fellow salesman a nod of thanks. She didn't eat it, instead wrapping it in a napkin and placing it inside her desk, next to her chopsticks and other cookies she had been given over the weeks. She barely noticed the camera zooming in on the row of napkin-wrapped cookies in her desk.

"I like cookie," Eugene spoke to the camera when asked, being ambushed and taken aside, "But I am...sales head and he is under me. Wrong idea. No favor. No bride." She meant to say 'bribe' but no one felt the need to correct her. "How did I get to head?" She repeated the question asked of her just as the voice of Aidan Ferguson was heard informing Gerald to dock Chris' pay again. Eugene paused to observe the announcement then turned back, about to crack up in a small fit of laughter. "I got job simply. Here, in this office...one who speak leetle English still more compact-tent than everyone else."

Eugene couldn't help but to feel a bit of pride as she brought that little introduction of an interview to a close. There was a meeting happening soon, and she would not miss it.

[LovelyComplex]

Location: Her desk (18) → Main Office Area (by the entrance of the conference room)
Interacting with: Herself and the cool camera crew → Mention of Temperance (both sections) and Rose (second section of post) → Observing mostly everyone and talking to Ger-bear and Boss Ferguson (second section of post)
| Outfit | Song |

For someone who was in pain and holding an ice pack a little above her right leg's calf, over her tan pants since they clothed her form ever so tightly, the young Asian woman of twenty five was delighted to answer her first interview question. She went by the name: Nana Darling (the positive ray of sunshine and the one and only Customer Service Rep). There was a bright gleam in her hazel orbs as she deeply observed the single-camera setup placed on the empty desk next to her's. There wasn't much space in her general vicinity, so since no one occupied that desk, the camera crew could use it however they pleased. This gave them a diagonal angle of her small section and an excellent view of a picture on her desk in a light blue wooden frame of Jude sitting on his late father's shoulders widely grinning. She knew a thing or two about filmmaking, since she constantly digested an immense amount of reading content just to know things. One fact being that their documentary filmmaking style would be Cinéma Vérité, or truthful cinema, which would highlight the 'realness' of their subjects - direct and up close. Did she mind strangers having a glimpse of her life? Absolutely not! So long as they didn't pry into her personal issues, she was all for this experiment!

The camera's viewpoint started off with a quick close up of the ice pack, before zooming out and exposing the mise-en-scène, or the visual theme, of her domain. Everything around her told a story, her story. The beauty of filmmaking was every element from the visuals to the ambient noise mattered. It was an art form that made our senses run wild in intrigue. From the pictures of Jude on the walls and on her desk to her intentional (OCD-level) placement of office supplies, to even the cute chibi drawing of her on a small chalkboard... All things mattered. She always appreciated when her coworkers surprised her with words or doodles. Her chalkboard was open to all. The man behind the camera knew this question wasn't needed, but he wanted to know what happened to her, so there was a faint, 'Are you alright?' that could be heard in the camera's perspective. A shotgun mic attached to a boom pole was hovering over her head, therefore making her voice the most prominent. Since this was a low budget production, the crew men could not afford lavalier microphones, nor did they want to worry about putting them on and off each staff member. With the boom mic they had more mobility, which was exactly what they wanted.

Sitting up, the woman with a happy disposition placed the ice pack on her desk and eagerly waved at the lens, before locking her gaze with the camera guy, "Yeah, of course! A bit bruised and I think today is a not go-on-the-roof-and-dance-my-heart-out day, BUT that's okay! There's always tomorrow." Clasping her hands together on her lap, with her back straight and her hair draping down in front of her shoulders, Nana smiled and allowed the mysterious man to investigate more into the situation: 'If you don't mind me asking, what happened?'

"Oh don't worry! I'm happy to answer." Her gaze looked up toward the ceiling as she thought of this morning's events, "It's funny this happened. Now I understand how Chris feels when I first joined and accidentally injured him... because I was nervous! Well, the new girl, Temperance I do believe her name is, was in a rush and kinda ran into me, with her box." She paused and her body shivered from the thought of the pain of being stepped on, "Kind of glad you guys didn't get that on camera... her heel hurt like... a lot." She brushed the incident off with a light giggle. As much as they wanted to hear more, he knew he had to ask the question he wanted mostly everyone to answer: I know this is not relevant to what happened to you and I'm sorry that happened, but since we only have so much time, I was wondering, why Dunder Mifflin?

Nodding as he talked, Nana took in his question and thought to herself for a brief moment, before answering, "Why here? Stability mostly for me and my son, Jude. He's my everything, as you can see..." She gestured around her which was enough to display her motherly love for her child, "I don't get nearly as much as I could but I make by. At first, it was simply an easy opportunity. Customer service is making people happy. I'm good at that. Yet, now I feel part of the family, you know?"

---

After having returned the ice pack back into the freezer, with a subtle limp in her step (a smile hiding the lingering pain), she left the kitchen and went to the main area, where mostly everyone was. The more lively area of the office. Nana was in her interview when Emily went to the front, so they hadn't talked yet for the day. The young mother only received one call from a customer since her busy hours were more often than not after eleven. Honestly, it was mostly her talking to Rose on the phone about what happened to her this morning and how adorable Temperance was. Both would look busy but today wasn't a hectic day at the paper company.

By the time she got to the front, with her composition book and pen in hand (for note taking), Ferguson was cheering, "Heid doon arse up!" Gwen, Alastair, and Eduard were in a conversation, while Nana's two main girls (Rose and Emily) were chatting it up at the receptionist's desk. Nana's future best friend (Eugene) was by her desk and through the corner of her eyes she saw Chris walking to the conference room and Gerald getting ready to head on in himself. With a serene smile, she scurried to him (trying her best to make her limp not TOO noticeable), "Gooooood morning, Gerald!" (She would have called him Ger-Bear or Brother Bear if Ferguson wasn't standing so close to him). She turned to 'the Man' of Dunder Mifflin New Castle and gave him an appreciative and adorable salute, "Reporting for duty, Boss!" Nana had a habit of calling Ferguson 'Boss', he didn't seem to mind it.

Bringing her attention back to the closest person to her in the office, Nana glanced up at Gerald and offered, "Want to sit next to me?" Her hazel orbs gestured that they should hurry inside before seats were claimed. However, knowing some of her coworkers, she could believe someone coming up and claiming her as their's for the meeting. That has happened to her before and there wasn't enough time for her to refuse them usually. The faster Gerald replied, the sooner he could be her meeting buddy! "Oh, oh, oh! In And Then There Were None, I love how they bend the formula of murder mysteries by making the victims of murders... murderers themselves! Well... Emily Brent did not kill her servant... sad life for her. Anyhow! I really like the justice theme it has. But should we agree that all those who died deserve their deaths? Does Judge Wargrave truly have the authority to be their punisher? I don't think so because he is a sadist! And insane!" There was always passion behind Nana's words when she talked about her interests.

---

---

---

---

[Viciousmarrow]

---

---

Temperance Venable

---

Location: Her Desk; Dunder Mifflin → Conference Room
Interacting with: Gerald, Nana
Outfit

---

“Ms. Venable?”

The camera crew had asked Temperance a question, but she didn’t seem to be responding. Her emerald eyes were wide open like a deer in the headlights and her palms were beating an erratic beat against her skirt-clad thighs. The young woman clearly had never been on camera before, nor did she know exactly what she was supposed to be doing. Severe anxiety was clawing at her composure and shredding any dignity she had, right here in front of everyone. Oh God, she was making a fool of herself! No one would like her now, and her boss was going to fire her for being such a hot mess! She was doomed! The mere thought of her embarrassing plight was enough to bring a bright red sheen to her chicks. Her lips opened up in a feeble attempt to answer the question, but only hot air greeted the crew.

Realizing she couldn’t talk, the blonde’s unease spiked to unprecedented levels. Her breathing turned into a spiel of hyperventilation, the air around her seemed to grow uncomfortably warm, and there was a tingling sensation reverberating through her fingers and toes. Worse though, Temperance felt like she was going to pass out at any time. Why had she forgotten to take her medication earlier?! This was just the worst.

“Are you okay…?” one of the the crew asked before a couple others stepped forward to help the poor girl before the camera was turned off.

---

Temperance quickly popped a Xanax at her desk and washed it down with her fifth cup of hazelnut coffee for today, trying to appear as calm and collected as possible. Unfortunately, the fact that she was downing two addictive substances did not project a great image. As she swallowed, there were pangs of guilt in her gut along with the glowing warmth of hot coffee. That poor Nana girl she’d trampled earlier… Oh man, she just felt terrible! One second she was carrying her box of office supplies into work, and in the next moment, the two women collided. Temperance had lost her balance and accidentally stepped on the Asian woman’s thigh with her heels. She had apologized and Nana had seemed fine, but… Temperance was still a bit upset about the incident. There would be redemption for her misdeeds, anything to get on the good side of her coworker!

Smoothing out her gray skirt, Temperance focused on the task at hand: operating this God forsaken contraption, the computer. A single finger pecked slowly at the keyboard, much like how one’s technologically inept grandparents might. A strange sight, to be sure, to see someone who grew up in the technology explosion of the 90’s and 2000’s to be struggling so much. She honestly wished she could just do everything with pen and paper. That’d be much faster for her! Alas, growing up with staunchly religious parents that banned most forms of technology from their home would do that to a child, as in Temperance’s case. After what seemed to take an eternity, she had finally entered her log on credentials and password! Now to find QuickBooks and begin her first assignment… Unfortunately her desktop was completely bare save for the icon of her old friend, Internet Explorer. Sighing, a quest to find QuickBooks was now added to her list of things to do.

A voice to her left caused her to perk up and glance at her superior, Mr. Fischer, who gave her a friendly wave. In response, she gave him a smile and flourishing wave back, almost knocking her coffee over in the process. Thinking about, the new hire had yet to introduce herself to man who sat directly across from her. In her defence, she was rather intimidated by his looks. Cute guys just made her seize up! Glancing back at Gerald, she thought about asking him for help with the computer, but suddenly the big boss strode into the room, announcing a meeting in what she perceived as half-English. The other part was German or something, she assumed. Or was it Russian? Languages and geography had never been her strongest subject. Regardless, worry crossed her face though. Was this a meeting to discuss her termination?! That’s the only thing it could be! Her emerald orbs appeared to grow ten times their normal size and she defeatedly hunkered down in her chair.

Sighing, she thought it best to at least to make the Asian woman, currently conversing with Mr. Fischer, she’d injured earlier a nice cup of coffee before they filed into the conference room. Temperance was going to have another one too! You could never, ever have enough coffee! Two mugs full later from her own personal coffee maker, complete with 6 spoons of sugar and 2 creamers, and her treat for her future friend was complete. ”Speaking of insane, I was listening to the news on the radio this morning, and they were talking about this story where this lady was being robbed in a parking lot. The guy pushed her down on the ground, but all of sudden she pulls a straight razor from her bra and slashes the man’s throat!” her mousy voice piped up. Temperance couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the mental image of the news as she interjected herself into Nana’s conversation. ”Can you imagine stuffing a straight razor down there? I’d end up cutting myself up for sure.” There was a bit of awkwardness after she tried to crack a joke, but maybe her humor was a tad too dark for this crowd.

Presenting the mug to the similarly short woman, the blonde urged her to take A closer look at the mugs showed that both had some kind of dark joke etched onto their bases. One dealt with drowning and the other was about death in general, which was the one that Nana received. Jokes definitely befitting for Temperance, though debately safe for work. ”Um... Coffee? It’s local and fresh brewed! Also sorry again about hurting you earlier… I am not very graceful.” Once the Asian woman took her drink, the new hire blinked twice at the other woman before she realized she had run out of things to say. Clearing her throat, the girl quickly yet clumsily withdrew from the conversation and walked towards the conference room, silently hoping her Xanax would kick in faster. Not even a full day in yet and she was making a fool of herself! At least she had coffee. Coffee wouldn't judge her.

[The Whacko]

---

---

Eduard Dautrive

---

Gwen's Desk (9) -> Main Office; Dunder Mifflin

---

Ed's head turned toward the newcomer, happy to see that it was just Alastair, the Chocolate Bear. He offered a polite smile and nod to the other man, fishing out a cigar from his coat pocket and clipping the foot as he listened to question. His brow raised sharply.

"Ideally, no. My oldest is sixteen and she ain't even held a boy's hand yet." He said as he flicked his lighter on, toasting his cigar before taking a short puff. "How long they been seeing this boy...or girl, whatever. And are they trying to be sneaky about it, or rubbing it in your face?" It was probably a bit blunt, but Ed preferred to get straight to the point, find a solution so that it would cease to be a worry.

[Morose]

---

---

Aidan Ferguson

---

Location: His Office; Dunder Mifflin

---

---

"If I didn't feel it was needed, I wouldn't have said it," Aidan explained, his patience wearing thin. Gerald may not have been irritating in the same way that Chris was, but he had often got on Aidan's last nerve on more than one occasion with his unrelenting happiness. "Make it happen, Fischer."

He sighed, retreating back into his office. Already, today was horrible. Though to be fair, each day for the past eight years that Chris showed up to work had been horrible. Aidan had already considered giving Chris paid leave, just to be rid of him. Whenever Chris went on vacation, Aidan wanted to throw a party. And then, practically just as he went into his office to escape the irritations of his workers, the devil himself walked in, his face a mess of tears.

Aidan scowled, looking at the piece of human garbage in front of him as he gave his weepy tale. Very slowly, methodically even, he opened up a tab on his computer, entering in the details regarding Chris' absence. Eventually, he hoped the bloke would slip up, claim that the same thing had happened twice to him. The man was an ant--and he, he was the boot.

"I expect an invite to the funeral. Lang may yer lum reek," Aidan muttered, just as Chris dashed out of the office. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He attempted to avoid staring at the cameras, but instead rolled his eyes. They were already proving to be a nuisance, meddling with his usual mode of punishment for Chris. Dunder Mifflin couldn't do to have the head of the New Castle branch look like a jackass, even if Chris' story turned out to be the horse shit he expected it to be. Throwing a knowing glance at the cameras, Aidan rolled his eyes, and collected himself.

He had a meeting to run.

Leaving his office, Fischer's new comment brought an even deeper scowl to his face. A vein in his forehead was pulsing, as if it was about to burst. "Bloody brilliant idea, Fischer!" Aidan said, practically shouting. Attempting to give a cool grin towards Nana, it more looked like the smile of a raving serial killer. He'd had enough with social interaction for the day.

He entered the Conference Room, taking his spot at the front. Locking eyes with Gwen, his face softened into a smile. There she was, sitting in the back, diligently taking notes. He couldn't have asked for a better intern. Now, if only his daughter Elspeth could be as problem free as Gwen...That would be his paradise.

---

---

Gwen Westbrook

---

Location: Her Desk (9), Main Office Area; Dunder Mifflin ---> The Conference Room; Dunder Mifflin

---

---

Gwen glanced up at her book, grinning at bit at Ed. He was one of the nerdier people in the office, and definitely one of her favorites. Of course, she hadn't been sent to HR for anything beyond new hire instructions. "Well, she didn't write this, actually...The story is hers, but it was written by Jack Thorne," Gwen answered, closing the book and placing her bookmark inside. "It's about Harry's son Albus...I won't say much more. Spoilers, you know." She giggled slightly at the obscure River Song reference, but figured that Ed would catch it. And if he didn't, she'd need to introduce him to some Doctor Who.

Glancing up at Alastair, her eyes bugged out of her skull a bit. She knew exactly what he was talking about, Zinnia's new boyfriend. She's chatted about it with her girlfriend a little bit, but with Zinnia's dad? That would be....weird. She gulped a bit, thankful as Ed jumped in with an explanation. She'd be off the hook then, it seemed.

However, hearing Ed's advice, Gwen felt morally obligated to jump in. "Yeah, they do. Never turns out well," she answered bluntly, scooping up the supplies she'd need for the meeting. A madlibs, carefully disguised as a notepad. Bidding Ed and Alastair farewell, she went over to the conference room, a bit glad to escape that awkward situation. Taking her seat in the back, she sat down, pretending to take notes while Aidan strolled into the room, a concealed smirk on her face.

[Nevix]

Declan Farraday

---

---

Location: His desk (11) ----> Conference Room

Interacting with himself and the camera crew. Nana mentioned.

---

”Yeah,” Declan said, before taking a long sip from a bottle of Dr. Pepper. ”I suppose you could say ‘argumentative.’ It doesn’t seem like the right word, though. ‘Debatative’ isn’t a word, though. Plus, calling them debates makes me sound like a high-school debate team coach or a politician, both of which I hate.” He leaned back in his chair, Sublime still playing quietly through his headphones, which hung around his neck. He listened to the camera crew as they spoke. ”I mean, it is Monday. I can’t well go out drinking on a Monday, can I? I’ll probably just heat up some corn dogs and play video games tonight.”

---

Declan actually felt pretty good today.

Normally, he was in a “death is preferable to this” mood every morning. Today, however, he felt good. He’d actually gotten some sleep last night, ate breakfast for the first time in a few months. He was properly caffeinated, and genuinely looking forwards to work. He whistled as he walked into work. Then he remembered that he had a meeting.

”I hate meetings.” He muttered. Of course, he didn’t want to broadcast it. He wasn’t sure if he could get fired for it, but he wasn’t about to test fate. God knew he was barely skating by. He walked past everyone Nana, straightening up in fear as he did so. He hastily walked into the conference room and took a seat, sighing. Avoiding contact with her would only work for so long. He needed to figure out what to do about that. That was a problem for later, though. For now, he leaned forwards in his chair and mentally steeled himself for the boredom that came with meetings.

[samreaper]

---

---

Gerald Fischer

---

Location: Main office floor--->Conference room
Interacting with: Nana-dear mentions Temperance

---

---

To have Mr. Ferguson tell him what a good idea his suggestion was made him feel proud; receiving recognition from the boss and the man he respected most in the office often did. A shame about Chris's mother; after the meeting he could give his condolences to his mother.

Now that the pay cut wasn't happening, it was time to turn the computer off which took a simple slide of the mouth followed by a click. He couldn't wait for the meeting to start and got up from his desk to make his way towards the conference room, but the sound of faint, scurrying footsteps followed by the ever familiar sweet voice of Nana. Just hearing her call out to him with that cute nickname she referred him as only brightened his day further; not that his day wasn't already a good one.

Turning to find her walking over to him, though couldn't help but notice the slight limp to her step and hoped it was nothing serious.' And a super good morning to you too, Miss Darling!'Only greeting her in a formal way due to the boss being right there, but that overly serious salute she gave to Mr. Ferguson brought out a chuckle out of him, something of which Nana tended to be good at doing.

Having her ask him if he wished to sit next to her; an pleasant offer he always enjoyed, though instead of answering right away had rubbed at his chin in a thoughtful manner where he got an sort of devious little idea.'Hm...I don't know. I can't help but feel that perhaps a break is needed. That maybe I should try something..different?'A raise of his right brow with an questingly expression upon his face, then took a glance at Nana for her reaction then reeled his upper body back and a pointed at her with a finger from both hands.(clamp pointing at her in mock pointing)' Ahhh gotcha! If you know me then you know my answer.' Laughing to himself while giving her the toothy warm smile, made to uplift a person up.

Gerald did indeed mostly sat next to her in the conference, where they could chat about the current novels they were reading and giving opinions and of course whisper about any possible gossip. And Nana brought up an interesting point concerning the book they have been reading lately and gave a brief nod to indicate he was listening.' You brought up some interesting points. For what makes a good mystery novel if not without a good twist. The author certainly took a good risk to pull such a tactic as not only is it shocking, but gives the readers a false sense of sympathy to feel for these so called victims as if to try and delude you their actions were justified.'Shaking his head after giving his thought and more-so to the part concerning the judge.' Such a judge certainly should nullify any rulings for the trials; regardless if the accused be guilty or not. A corrupted court instantly cancels any actual and probable justice to occur. As for whether any one person has the right to judge a peer by their crimes....that is a rather difficult topic to get into in small discussions.' The concept of a court and its process was rather complex and especially difficult to judge if whether it was a system that succeeded or a failure.

There were more he wished to discussed about about the judge; when Ms. Venable came over, who, by the look of her seemed very anxious and nervous. With her being one of the newest addition to the office, it only made sense for her to feel such a way, what with being surrounded by strangers basically, whom she would be working with. Her telling of a rather dark incident only further showed her awkwardness as she told it as if she found it amusing. Certainly to most; such an out of place dark humor would disturb them, but Gerald's thoughts were focused on the plausibility of doing something so brazen and dangerous.

Letting the two ladies have their talk before watching the nervous new accountant offer Nana a cup of coffee before clumsily cantering off into the conference room.'For such a nervous new recuit, she's certainly a bit more talkative then most. Makes it all the easier to get to know her character.'Taking a glance over at Temperance, ever the eager beaver to find out about new coworkers.'And at least she has good story to tell of her very first interaction with someone in the office...one pertaining to the little injury to that leg of yours.' His gaze back on Nana and gave her another warming smile, thinking how an awkward meeting to be a good icebreaker for moving pass the uncomfortable stage all the more easy.'Come on, better get our seats before all the good ones are taken.'Letting out another chuckle before entering the conference room, with the meeting about to take place any moment.

[Fabricant451]

---

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Eugene Han

---

Conference Room

---

In some ways it was like the first day of school, specifically the first day in a school where the teacher didn't assign seats based on the alphabetical order. For many students, and oddly this transferred to the supposed adults that worked here, it was free reign to sit by your friends, often in the back, and just goof off. Of course, the conference room was much smaller than any given class room and Aidan was far more harsh than any teacher Eugene had ever known, but the metaphor was there, it was apt, and that was the main thing.

Eugene never really fussed about her seat in school; it didn't matter where she sat in class, people would snicker and laugh as soon as the teacher called her name for attendance. But when it came to the conference room, she wasn't sure why there wasn't a reserved sign on the chair closest to the door right in the front of the table, next to the head where Aidan stood. Eugene always sat there and though some might have seen it as Eugene being a kiss-ass, it was really just because it was the shortest chair between her desk and the conference room. And if she was ever asked, she had the perfect excuse ready.

"Easy learn when so close."

Of course, no one really asked nor did they care - most days it seemed like the meetings were slept through or otherwise just forgotten about within moments after ending, provided nothing interesting happened, of course. Perhaps the perpetual prankster would attempt another of his, in Eugene's eyes, woefully unfunny jokes. Perhaps the pot stirrer would trip and fall as he walked past Nana. Perhaps her childish co-workers would see the new hire as a toy and rush to paw at her like she was some expensive tablet or something.

Either way, Eugene was normally more punctual - often arriving in the conference room with minutes to spare while others shuffled in, but today there was a bit of a distraction what with the cameras and the leading interview questions. She really hoped they wouldn't be here long; she'd never had to keep up her ruse in front of cameras, and these crew people seemed determined to find SOMETHING salacious or scandalous, be it genuine or fabricated. Still, with quickened steps, Eugene entered the conference room and took her spot at the table with no fanfare or attention drawn to herself.

Someone here had to actually care, and all signs pointed to it being her.

[AbysmalDemon]

Chris Meyer

---

His Desk -->> Conference Room
Interacts with Gwen (@Morose)

---

Chris began to write in his notepad, internally giving himself a pat on the back for getting out of a pay cut. He despised the man and his positivity, but he figured he would stop by, say thanks to Fischer and leave. He first began a giant header at the top of the page that said 'EXPO'. He then began to write down things in a list like setting, places, lord, and characters, with a brief description of their backstory. He didn't know what he was writing really, just some fantasy setting, with magic and dragons and such. He began to speak to himself as he wrote down a couple words.
"The fog... Began to clear... As a ghostly light cast itself on... The grass, the dew... Reflecting... It's... Dim... Shine." As the meeting was called he took his notebook and his pen. He slipped on his fake case that said 'Meeting Notes' so he could write during Aidan's droning. He took a seat next to Gwen, and continued to write, this time silently.

A robed man's hot breath could be seen in the chilly night air, as he walked through the thick foliage of the forest. He was lost, confused, and scared. Al he had was his lamp, and a small dagger which he had out on his right hand. He didn't know where he was, or where... Other things, were. Every twig cracking, grass rustle, and owl call, he turned around in a start, checking to make sure there was nothing behind him. He kept walked by through the waist-high grass, which was now scratching at his arms. Not 15 feet in front of him he heard a clicking sound, and he froze in his tracks. The clicking got louder, and he heard fast footsteps in front of him. He heard a screeching, and then... It all went black. He crossed out 'EXPO' and put under it, The Mystery of Zeph Lindburgh he put under [i]that[i] in parentheses, Fantasy/Mystery. He finally looked up at Gwen, who in his creative state, he didn't even notice. "Hey, do you mind taking a look at this?" He said, handing her the notepad. "I'm not really one for fantasy... Or mystery, but I decided to give it a try."

[sakurasan]

---

---

Alastair Abbey

---

Location: His Desk (7) -> Gwen's desk

Interactions: Declan (@Nevix) -- Eduard (@The Whacko) -- Aidan (a nod.) (@Morose

---

---

“Well, she told me today when he came to pick her up. He’s got a car since he’s 16...but she’s 14.”

Alastair groaned, rubbing one of his eyes with his free hand before shuffling through his pocket to search for his eye drops. “This is give me headache. Either way, i’ll just head to the meeting room.” he said, heading over to there after looking up at the clock and seeing that 5 minutes was almost up.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Alastair pressed on his temples and took a breath. He tried to stray away from thinking about his daughter because he knew very well that it would just make him distracted and what would be the point if he couldn’t pay for the both of them?

He tilted his head back and applying the eye drops to his eyes. Walking into the conference room, Alastair nodded at Aidan as a sign of respect. Looking around for the first open seat and taking a seat next to Declan. “A good morning to you.” he says before he and takes out a notepad. He had to write anything important that the boss said after all. Flipping over the notepad and ripping out a piece of paper that was creased.

He looked back up, stuffing the paper into his pocket. His mind was finally free of additional thoughts and only thinking of work.

[Morose]

---

---

---

Date: Monday August 1st, 2016 ~ Morning

---

@The Whacko @Nevix @Fabricant451 @AbysmalDemon @lovely complex @Viciousmarrow @samreaper @sakurasan @QueenOfTheBee

---

---

While most of Dunder Mifflin New Castle piled into the Conference Room, a far more sinister scene was occurring just a mile away from the workplace. Rose Peters, our darling secretary, had been quite late to work that day. Doing her best to not let Aidan down, she pushed the speed limit -- and then some. As she was turning around a corner, Rose didn't see the other car until it was too late. Police arrived and declared the Dunder Mifflin receptionist dead on arrival. It seems Lady Luck is merciful to none.

But alas, Rose wasn't the only one who failed to show up for work this day! Fortunately, Sam didn't perish. Earlier that morning, the poor thing perhaps was still a bit under the influence. His wife, you know. His ex-wife. She'd caused a bit of a trouble, and what better way to feel better than to drink? With the alcohol in his system and his rage, he left a rather nasty voicemail for Aidan, quitting his job. He was last seen boarding a train back home to Tennessee.

However, some may have noticed that Moe was a bit chipper this morning! A few minutes before the Conference Room Meeting began, he received a rather discreet phone call. Turns out, he'd won the lottery. Isn't that lucky? Immediately seeing his riches and the ability to pay off some of his colleagues of ill repute, Moe left the office, but not before showing Aidan the middle finger. No one is quite sure whether or not to say he quit or was fired -- I suppose that'll be up for HR to sort out.

---

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Aidan Ferguson

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Location: The Conference Room; Dunder Mifflin

---

---

Aidan cleared his throat, pacing a bit at the front of the room. Seeing all of his worker bees file in, he set his hands down at the end of the table, leaning forward a bit. His half bald head reflected the light a bit, allowing his workers to almost be able to see themselves in it, like a mirror. However, as Aidan glanced over towards the cameras, he straightened up, settling back into more of a stoic, businessman like stance.

"As I'm sure many of you are aware, we have been infiltrated," Aidan began simply. "These people will be here for the foreseeable future, provided their show isn't canceled. I don't quite understand it myself, but it's reality TV....but a documentary."

Aidan turned to one of the camera man, rolling his eyes at them. He really didn't fancy being on a show with the same audience as the Kardashian sisters, or the Jersey Shore trash. Only respectable, proper television made sense to him. And this? This was anything but that. Had corporate not demanded he comply, Aidan would have thrown them out of the office himself.

"They want us to act like ourselves--and if any of you put so much as a toe out of line, I'll skin you alive myself," Aidan warned, a soft smile on his lips. "Chris, Declan, and Fischer. I'm talking to you. If any of you bastards give me a reason, do not doubt that I won't take advantage of it."

His lips curled a bit into a sinister smile, but another glance at the cameras reminded him to compose himself. Taking a deep breath, Aidan put on a cheery grin, though it failed to be anything but unconvincing. "Of course, I'm talking about metaphorical murder--actual murder is against company policy." He chuckled lightly, before taking a slight step back. He figured they'd have more questions than he'd be able to answer.

"Questions? Anyone except for Chris, Declan, and Fischer, obviously. I know what you prats get up to."

---

---

Gwen Westbrook

---

Location: The Conference Room; Dunder Mifflin

---

---

Gwen nodded, taking the notepad from Chris. It was better than trying to focus on the meeting, what with the cameras filming their each and every move. She couldn't care less about how she was perceived -- police stations weren't going to bother with some documentary on TV she'd been forced to take part in. Reading Chris' work while Aidan blathered on, she snickered each time she heard him advocate murder.

Perhaps, when she was finally a detective, she'd get to catch Aidan in the act of killing Chris. It wasn't that farfetched.

Quietly slipping the notepad back over to Chris, she leaned over and whispered her feedback to him. "You spelled all wrong. Two L's." She smirked a bit, before pretending to jot down her own notes on the meeting. Recalling what Aidan had said, Gwen jotted down the following:

Subject AF threatened to skin alive subjects GF, CM, DF. Subject AF joked about murder on several more occasions. She then dated and signed her observation, and folded her hands pleasantly, winking at the cameras. Returning her attention to Aidan, she smiled at him, and received a smile back in return. As odd and creepy as her boss was, she certainly had him wrapped around her thumb.

Now if only that could translate into a raise...

[The Whacko]

---

---

Eduard Dautrive

---

The Conference Room -> Main Office; Dunder Mifflin

---

Ed ad given Alastair a sympathetic look before they'd gone in for the meeting. It was as predictable as could, really. Aidan briefed them on the film crew, and threatened all of them to behave while on camera. He already knew damn well Chris was going to break that rule, Declan too, probably. He'd have to remind himself later to give everyone a thorough briefing on what kind of wiggle room they could get away with, especially his two problem children and maybe Gwen, too. She might have been a little on the PC side, but he knew those loonies had a bad habit of eating eachother if someone dared to not be 'supportive' or 'aware' enough.

When Aidan was finished with his little speech, Ed nodded to the smaller man and began to stand, clearing his throat briefly. He wasn't looking forward to this anymore than the others would.

"Well folks, moving onto item two for the day. Afraid it's come to a time we all hate." He sighed deeply then, gestured to a rather thick packet that had been laying in front of him at his seat. "Come talk to me today because somehow, and seemingly impossibly soon, it's once again time for peer reviews." He gave the group a pause for the impending eave of groans. "Yeah, I know. Swing by my office after this. Already got everyone paired off."

[Bee]

---

---

Emily Kessler

---

Main Office -> Break Room -> Conference Room
Interactions: Chris Meyer @AbysmalDemon, Gwen Westbrook @Morose, Aidan Ferguson @Morose (Brief Mention), Eugene Han @Fabricant451(Brief Mention), Eduard Dautrive @The Whacko

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After a little bit of exploring around the office, Emily had finally decided to start heading toward the conference room itself. Emily had wanted to time it so that she wouldn't be the first person to have entered the room, but also wouldn't be the very last person in fear of being singled out by Aidan (however unlikely that should've been). Somehow she had found herself in the break room dilly-dallying, She might as well have bought a bottle of water or something like that since she was near the vending machines anyway. Her eyes, glassing over the many unhealthy sodas and other treats, acted as an appropriate contrast to the much healthier (and quite frankly the only) option of water. Thankfully it wasn't ungodly expensive, so Emily didn't mind giving it money every once in a while. The machine received some money, and some buttons were pressed, and eventually the bottle of water fell to the slot that was placed for easy access. The water bottle was removed from its chilly home and gripped gingerly in Emily's dominant hand, exiting and making her way to the conference room where more people were gathering.

She slipped inside, seeing the Head of Sales, Eugene. One glance at her and Emily could tell that Eugene was looking to get something out of this. All this basically was going to be was just an explanation about why the camera crew happened to be here. She had seen the Scranton documentary, so she sort of knew what to expect. These guys were going to be filming pretty much every second of their time here, maybe even outside of work as well. Scranton's documentary was actually particularly entertaining, and also revealed a lot about why they were so successful even with someone like Michael Scott as their branch manager. Emily was hoping the end result would be just as good, if not even better.

Emily walked past Eugene and found a seat next to Chris and Gwen, who were apparently sharing notes or something like that. Not that Emily really minded anyway. The California native couldn't really resist the urge to glance over at Chris. The guy might have been the bossman's most disliked employee, but everyone had their own opinions. Emily put a leg up, wriggling her booted foot around out of sheer boredom. If the meeting would get started soon that would've been really nice. Pretty much everyone that was in the office was present. And right on cue, the bossman, Aidan Ferguson had started the meeting.

Not even two words had been spoken before Emily's attention had started wavering. She had propped her elbow up on the table beside her, scrunching her face up as she was resting her head on her fist. A quick glance back had showed that Gwen wasn't even paying attention, but instead reading something. Maybe it was still Chris's notes? She didn't want to intrude - considering she barely even knew the temp. Emily had spaced out right until the word 'murder' had entered her ears. Murder? That was rather... unorthodox. Even if it was metaphorical it was still a little strange, and considering Aidan's relationship with that particular group of workers, Emily had very strong reason to believe that Aidan would very well do so if he was given the chance to murder any one of the above. Actually, he'd probably murder everyone if he could, save for Eugene.

Her eyes started to pan around the office, lingering a bit on Eduard's shiny bald head before moving onto a rather unfamiliar face. Was this the new hire? Emily was delighted by the fact that there was another blonde in the office, she seemed really nice as well. Emily would have to check her email to see if she had to help her set up her computer later today. Like always, she wouldn't mention anything about how she was able to see the new hire's browsing habits. There was a section in the manual that stated that people in her position were able to observe all internet activity within a branch. Something about being able to trace things back to people if they decided to do something stupid.

But Emily's attention was yanked back yet again, coming across Aidan finally digressing it and handing it off to... Eduard. If he had something to say at meetings it usually wasn't good. Emily was rarely singled out by Eduard himself about issues regarding her personal conduct, but the man next to her had it much worse. He probably spent more time in that little cubicle of Eduard's than he did at his own. Emily thought it was all worth it though, he was still here after all. Emily's hunch was right, as Eduard had announced that it was time for peer reviews. Emily had pretty much known what people had written about her, but she was sort of curious about what other people said about other people. Not that it was any of her business, but a woman couldn't resist finding out information like that. She turned around to Chris and raised her eyebrows. Knowing the unfortunately negative relationship between Chris and a lot of people, Emily took it upon herself to maybe offer him some support.

"Chris, do you want some company before you go in later?" Emily asked sheepishly, hoping that the jokester next to her would accept.