Mirella enters the large room, her eyes pausing on each person there looking for someone who could help her. No one seemed particularly important. But when she sees tehe door that reads "Craig Sarandon; Edito-In-Cheif" she smiles and makes a B-Line for the office. On her way, she glances at the other doors and various desks wondering what would be inthe next issue. (Maybe ... Nah.) Her facial expression would say to anyone that she's on a mission. Which she was.

Mirella emerges from the office of the Editor-In-Chief half an hour later holding a box with a small stack of papers on top of it. The last half hour had been passed by with her and Mr. Sarandon speaking in an impromptu interview in his office. Her box of files and the small stack of assignments indicate her success. She finds the desk he had mentioned and places the box down on the desk. She picks up the small stack of papers and briefly brings her eyes to each body in the room. Some were getting coffee, others tapping away at a computer or laptop, others writing away on yellow pads of paper. But she doesn't waste time to relish in her latest accomplishment.

Already being rather tall for a female, Mirella raises her hand and takes a deep breath. "Excuse me, may I have your attention, please!" She says, more of an order than a request, though it does sound resquest-esque. The typical 'I need your attention, but I'm going to be nice about' statement. She waits for everyone in the room to quiet down. "My name is Mirella Raine, I am Mr. Sarandon's new assistant. If you need anything, please come to me first. Unfortunately, we do not have time for formal introductions. We have a paper to get printed and distributed. So when I call your name, please come and get your assignemtns." Having a near photographic memory, Mirella would have no problem remembering which name on the assignment belonged to which person on the floor. She looks at the name on the first assignment on the top of the pile. (Alphabetical ... Nice!) She pulls it from the pile and holds it up. "Andrew." She says in a loud voice, but wihtout yelling. She continues to hand out all the assignments until there's just the box for filing.

Molly stands not too far from Mirella, her eyes staring down at the assignment the Gypsy had handed her just moments ago. They read over the page, not too pleased with the story she’s been given. She deserves a more worthy one - that is in her opinion. She’s the ‘star reporter’ of the column. It’s her name which stands out among the others. She’s the Lois Lane of the Bay Mirror. She might not be a super hero, but it doesn’t stop her stealing the show.

“New girl” Molly calls out disrespectfully, expecting Mirella to come rushing over to her. It’s not that she can’t remember the woman’s name – she’s a pro at memorizing a ton of facts and being able to recall them easily. She’s just a proud bitch and chooses not to use her name for the hell of it. “Are you sure this is mine?” The brunette enquires with a raised brow. She holds the assignment out for Mirella to see, showing her the topic she is supposed to report on. “It’s just so…Mediocre” (far below my talent)

Mirella was just about to pick up the first page of the files that were to be set in the far filing cabinet when an oriental woman, Molly as she recalls, suddenly attempts to get her attention through rudeness. Mirella doesn't bite. It wasn't the first time she'd delt with someone who thought they were the next Phoebe Halliwell. Rather than rushing to the woman's side, she continues t ofile, waiting for Molly to come to her. Which she did. Mirella got some pleasure out of that, but never showed it. Just because Mirella was the 'new girl' as Molly put it didn't mean she didn't have rank and didn't deserve to be respected.

The tall gypsy doesn't even look at the paper. She knew she had not given the woman the wrong assignment. And Molly knew that Mirella had not given her the wrong assignment. If not, then she had an issue with being able to read her own name. And judging by the woman's attempt at rudeness, she only wanted to rattle Mirella's cage. Mirella places the file in her hand in its filing cabinet before turning to Molly. She didn't need to look at the paper. She knew which assignment was outlined for the woman. "Maybe so," Mirella says unwaveringly and almost in a friendly tone. "But perhaps Mr. Sarandon simply wants your added touch to make the article less ... Mediocre." Mirella suggests, guessing that the woman would be satisfied with an ego stroking. "I've read your work, Molly. You make your articles very interesting to read." She continues, moving towards her desk and pulling another file. She pauses only for a moment to read the title. "Even the 'mediocre' topics." She finishes and continues to go about her work.

“You’re probably right” Molly exclaims with a proud grin. Maybe she’s getting exactly what she needs to progress to the next level. Anyone can make a juicy story interesting, just printing the facts can do that. However, only real star talent can take something so boring and mediocre interesting – a challenge she is more than willing to take. (I can do this. It’ll be good…no, it’ll be great)

Molly’s grin grows wider with the compliment Mirella deals. She loves compliments of any kind, especially about her work which she pours her very heart and soul into. It’s all she’s ever wanted to do since she was a small child. She’s worked hard for many years and it’s finally starting to pay off. True, she has stepped over a lot of people to get where she is, but she only did so to get ahead. Anyone with as much ambition as Molly would do the same. It only proves how much she loves doing what she does.

“Thank you, Mirella” Ms Cafrey uses the Gypsy’s name for the first time, showing the woman has went up in status, at least in her books. “I’m actually up for a reader’s award for my article on the prosecution of Leslie Malone. You know ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’” The reporter states with pride, giving the name of the article so Mirella would know the exact one. (I better win. It would be a crime if I didn’t)

Mirella grins to herself at Molly's reaction. She had read the woman like a book. But her inner pleasure is not shown in any way. A trick Mirella had learned long ago. She just grins and nods when Molly thanks her. (Well, that's a welcome change.) Mirella turns her full attention to the woman after she files away the last manilla coloured folder. She closes the filing cabinet gently and turns to face the woman. The fact that she had used her name hadn't gon unnoticed, either. Perhaps the woman just didn't like new people. She could relate. She was the same way when she was younger. Well, somewhat. Suddenly, Molly brings Mirella's attention back when she continues the conversation. As expected, she begins to brag about her current nomination. Being one to follow the news, even the obscure stuff, she knew of the woman's nomination.

"Yes!" She cries, exaggerating her enthusiasm slightly for the woman's benefit. "I remember that article! That was fantastic!" She exclaims. True, she had read the article. And true, it was fantastic. But the whole thing had made Mirella uneasy. Being a gypsy made her vulnerable. The public eye would never separate gypsies from witches. They're all evil, and they're all witches according to mortals. She remembered crying for her lost sister witch. It was horrible. No, it was ... Words didn't describe what it was. Everyone now lived in fear because of that careless Whitelighter.

Even though Mirella's thoughts are of fear, anger and other negative emotions, she remains happy-go-lucky-Mirella on the outside. Too risjy setting off alarms for the woman. "Tell me, how did you manage to get an interview with that woman?" She asks, genuinely incredulous at this feat. Molly had been the only one, to her knowledge, who'd been able to do so. And from what she could tell, Molly hadn't skewed what the woman had said. Something Mirella admired any journalist for.

Molly’s proud smile widens as Mirella continues to praise her work. It’s all Molly really has after all. She doesn’t have anyone that she’d call a friend, nor really any family and she certainly doesn’t have a love interest; her work keeps her far too preoccupied for that. It’s sad, because she used to have all of these, but as she got better and better and her work began to get recognition, well then everything else got put on hold. The stone cold reporter doesn’t show any signs of emotion lingering on regret or sadness though, far too consumed in maintaining the Miss bitch, don’t mess with me persona, she had put all her time and energy building up.

“The interview?” Molly repeats back. “Well in this line of business, contacts are everything. I knew a couple people who knew a couple people…” The dark haired woman explains, leaving out the minor blackmail she inflicted part. It was the breaking point in her career. Molly Cafrey, the only journalist to get an interview with the Malone Witch. Who cares how she managed to pull the gig. She got it and that’s what counts.

“Leslie had a lot to say. It was hard cutting down the interview to things I could print. She constantly protested that she had done nothing wrong…such a shame it was not the truth” Molly shakes her head; fully agreeing with the final judgment that Leslie was given. “The quicker we get control over these witches the better. We can not have satanic worshiping scum walking around playing god”

Mirella was actually interested in what the woman had to say. Something about how she seemed more than eager to share her success with others. Mirella quickly decides that she must not have anything else. She seemed like the sort who cared about nothing but her work. The older woman briefly wonders who she had been before. If she had been anyone else.

She grins, nodding. "Yeah, contacts are always a good thing to have in this business." She observes.But there was something about how she left that sentence hanging. Something she wasn't telling her. But that wasn't her concern. So she ignores it.

(I can imagine) Mirella observes. She knew the woman was innocent. But she had to protect herself from those who wished her dead. As Molly seemed to want, even though she didn't know it. "I couldn't agree more." She says smiling as she reaches for her coffee cup that was sitting on her desk. She brings it to her lips and takes a sip. She fully agreed with Molly. Really. But not in the same way. She secretly meant the demons, and true Evils of the world. But Molly didn't need to know she was making that differeniation in her mind. It was the only thing keeping her from going int oa rant about how her scousins, the witches, have saved people like Molly countless times. That she oculdn't believe this was teh thanks they were getting for all their years of efforts. She silently curses that careless Whitelighter once more for her indiscretion.

She looks back over at Molly. "You know, maybe she believed she had done nothing wrong." Mirella observes. "I've found that many people who we believe have done something wrong yet constantly claim innocence, truly believe that they have done nothing wrong." She observes. She wasn't trying to really defend Leslie. At least, not outright. It was simple truth. "Think about it," She continues. "If you did something that yo uwere raised to do all your life, but someone else comes in and says it's wrong and punishes you for it, would you not claim complete innocence?" She poses the question to Molly. "I'm not accusing you, of course. But imagine how she felt. She believed she was doing nothing wrong ... "She shakes her head, again pretending to agree with Molly. "But!" She concludes. "She's getting what she deserves." She adds, only secretly regretting having to say that.

Character Relocations:

Mirella its at her desk in front of Mr. Sarandon's office, her elbow leaning on her desk propping her chin as she reads through the evening edition. She sips at her cup of coffee, enjoying a peice done by one of the newer reporters on the misconceptions of San Francisco. It was quite enjoyable. Some things parallelled with her home town of New York surprisingly. But as she turns to page, she finds Molly's assignment. She distracts herself, finding that she really wanted to see what kind of slant the woman had put on the blatantly boring peice she'd been given.

She unconsciously crosses one leg over the other, the foot rocking itself as she reads through the articale. (Not bad.) The woman is truly impressed. Though she would expect nothing less from the reporter, she liked to think that her little encouragement pushed her a little to do even better than she might have had the gypsy not been there.

But as she reads she gets the strange sensation through her body. And then suddenly, she knows that the Witch Trials are over. The newspaper drops to the desk and she looks up, her hand suspended mid air, still poised to hold the paper. Her head looks up, eyes darting everywhere. (What the hell?) She stands involuntarily and looks around. (Not that I'm complaining ... But how the hell did that happen?) Curious, Mirella sifts through the newspaper. Articales that should have been there were completely gone, replaced by something else. She the nrushes the the filing cabinet which stored older versions of the paper. The first thing she looks for is Molly's exposee on Leslie. Nothing.

What did this mean? She remembers everything ... Did anyone else? Not sure what to do, she tucks the paper back in its place and packs up her desk for the night. She tosses her purse over her shoulder, only now realizing that she was hungry. But she had to find out what was going on first. THe whole thing was weird. She checks to make sure everything is locked up before heading to the corridor.