Hemerine
No one bothers distinguishing between the desks of the editors and the lower associate editors in the OVC. After all, everyone reports the news. The main distinction between the two is that the senior writers get bigger reader bases, seniority, and more leniency on deadlines and research. Apart from that, any editor can find their own specialty in the field as long as the work of spreading the news was shared equally.
Amelia Garbur summarizes the fracas at the Selection Offices with a few short sentences and types up a headline to match. It had caused quite a stir when a member of Traverson Hall had attempted to enter a Selection listing that didn’t exist and had caused the Offices to malfunction. In her editorial she concludes that the Selection process will be available once more the next day and will be open to all who meet the basic requirements.
She hadn’t listened to her coworkers’ gossip earlier at the coffeemaker, preferring to grab a cup and head back to her desk to drink in productive silence. While the offices around Amelia’s desk buzz with worried conversations and glances toward the board-members’ offices she continues her editing in a steady manner.
A knock on her cubical wall makes her glance up, blinking at the woman in the open space. Lillian Platt’s presence on the floor has sent ripples of silence through the editors who notice her, and Amelia’s ears register the subtle tension in the lack of noise.
“Ms. Platt,” she murmurs, standing and pushing her chair to the side. “It’s good to see you.” Her tone carries a hint of surprise and questioning.