Logs:Staff Meeting, Informal - About the Crabs

From Fallcoast
Jump to: navigation, search
Staff Meeting, Informal - About the Crabs
Dramatis Personae

Itxaro, Wish, Violet, Sloan, Lumina, Enzo

17 October, 2016

Employees are met with by the chief concierge to address concerns.


Albergo Gancia

"I'm uh, the Baby Enzo." Lumina replies for her job position, a quirk of a grin curving her lips, "Officially the steward, which is the lower tier job for a concierge." Explaining logic makes it better, right? "Nice to meet you, uh, Visnya?" She frowns, whispering as she attempts to corrects her pronunciation.

Sloan smiles to Visnja, "I am doing alright. Can't complain and no one would want to listen if I did." he give a little chuckle at his own deadpan humor. It is just after the end of Sloan's and he is in his work suit though the tie is loosened, Lumina is at work behind the desc and Visnja also off shift hanging around the lobby as well. He nods to Lumina, "Well that sounds like an interesting job." He smiles, "Probably a lot like mine; the best days are the ones that are kinda boring."

Yep, Wish is indeed just off shift and out of uniform, in her most casual of street wear. Which she's not normally be seen in here in the lobby, but it's late evening and quiet (or it was anyway) and she's killing time before the next ferry (or pickup by Owen, depending on how busy he is). "I am housekeeping," she states, for those who didn't know. Though it's obvious. And 'states' is sort of a good way to describe how she speaks. She's less conversational, more dropping thoughts and words just sort of there in the middle for people to work around. Not a fluid speaker is what we're getting at. "Is okay."

Itxaro arrives at the lobby after having an evening out. She's got a little jump in her step and her hips sway to her own internal music as she makes her way. She does take a moment to look at the Visnja behind the desk, giving a jaunty wave to the stranger as she starts to head over to the elevator, since she already has her room key. She takes a moment to glance at the others in the lobby, pausing for a second to see if it's anyone she recognizes. The new entertainer hasn't had a chance to meet everyone yet.

Like the Candyman of legend, saying his name out loud in the lobby is what seems to summon him. From behind the set of French doors to the Marple lounge, rising from the floor, Enzo stands as he ascends a concealed set of stairs, the tiled floor giving a clicking sound as it retracts into position. That isn't something normally ever encountered, really. His suit is freshly-pressed, his hair immaculate, and his gaze unnerving. In his hands, the clipboard of office, clutched with a white-knuckled hand. Looking from face to face, he speaks to one and all. "Loyal employees," he says politely but firmly, "If I may have a moment of your time." He sounds as if he's got something important to say. His chin raises imperiously, eyes finding eyes in the well-lit lobby like heat-seeking missiles locking onto a bonfire.

Tallying up the numbers for the day, is what Lumina is doing. Making sure the bills and the accounts all line up -- sure, Enzo likely has it well in hand, but system redundancies ensure on preventing errors from occurring. There's a nod in greeting given towards Itxaro at her arrival. ...And then there's Enzo ascending out of the bowels of hell. Lumina shivers lightly and finishes up her current tally, writing down the respective totals, and the differences between. "Mr. Gancia." She greets politely, folding hands and giving him her ...mostly undivided attention. It's not a problem that she doesn't make eye contact right? But then, she doesn't make the eye-meetings with well, anyone.

Sloan gives a friendly nod ot the unknown dancer as she enters. Then when Enzo does and asks for attention the large man turns towards the concierge and nods, "Sure thing." He grins, "Since I just got off, this counts as overtime, right?" he jokes.

The slight girl with the feral aura meets eyes dead on, as if to meet the gaze of others is to drink of what makes them who they are and teaches her of them. Which is sort of unnerving and intense. But so is Wish sometimes, in her odd and friendly way. "Hello!" she will greet the boss-in-her-superior-not-superior-power-sort-of-boss. And she has time, yes. Ferry isn't due just yet.

Itxaro stops in her tracks from heading towards the elevator and gives Enzo her full attention. She gives the bossman a smile, giving a nod to let him know that she's giving him her full attention. She crosses her arms and waits to hear what the news is.

"On behalf of Management," Enzo begins, his chin held high, "I wish to thank you all for your competent, prompt services." This is not the pep talk kind of discussion, if it is a discussion at all. "That is the gist of what is said. The particulars is a call for individuals who are seeking advancement to do so immediately. Our winter bookings are scheduled at a premium, due to the seasonal shift away from our usual offerings. Thus, we will have to focus on local entertainment, recreation activities not involving the open water, and reduced fees for suite rentals." They are going to go slim for the winter. It's how a hotel-resort has to function.

"Housekeeping will be retained," he assures the group, "They will be required to serve in other roles. Servers, waitstaff, and lobby assistance being the primary three roles, to be specific." Then he looks to the collective with a resigned sigh, a rare display. "Our revue will also be extending its hours beyond what was specified in contract form. Volunteers to resolve the gap will be compensated, as will security." Then he holds up his clipboard. "Management will be offering a fifty percent raise for all hours worked past what was initially specified." So, where is the money going to come from? That's not addressed, and suspicious, as there won't be guest revenue to rely upon, apparently. "I will resolve questions at this time." Then he points to someone.

There's a slight tilt of her head, and Lumina dips her head in a slight nod, considering the winters entertainment levels. Well, winter festivities, snow and ice and maybe a sauna, or hot-spring? "I am content to work extra hours. Could an advertisement regime on the mainland, in an effort to lure more customers with an emphasis on the island fun in the chill of winter? Such as the simpler things, of hot chocolate, marshmallows, perhaps a weekly -- or bi-weekly -- banquet?" She suggests, problem solving! "The holiday emphasis, such as Halloween masquerade, or early Christmas cheer?"

Sloan nods in agreement with Lumina's ideas, "Yeah that might be a good way to go, maybe focus on getting locals to do holiday treat kind of day trips rather then the more traditional longer resort stays." He then says, "Though it sounds like I will be needed either way." He gets a good lean started on one end of the front desk.

Not her place to comment here. Wish isn't really... an idea person. Muse hopefully? She's more suited to being a muse than waitstaff. So she'll shift her weight to one foot, stand there, listen intently to the questions and ideas of others.

"Whatever you need Enzo," Itxaro tells him with a smile because the hotel comes first in the dancer's book, "Just let me know the adjusted hours so I can plan things." Her other dancing things that don't involve the hotel that she does on the side, "I'll be as flexible as you need me to be." There's that loyalty flaring up. Management needs something and Itxaro is ready to lend a hand.

Appearing to be satisfied, Enzo gives each speaker a curt nod of acknowledgment, ever the professional. "Thank you all," he says, coughing as he seems to be experiencing the humanization of a group coming together. "Management has stated that the policy on advertising will remain in perpetuity. Those who must ask for patronage do not deserve those who show for the opportunities provided." He speaks as if he's reading from a cue card or rote memory more than a personal expression of beliefs. "Word of mouth remains the single-best method for our form of business model." Then he leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. "Also, we have a growing problem with the crabs on the island. One was found in a guest's room during their bath. See to it that it is resolved in short order." Then he levels his gaze at all assembled. "Management will reward those who endure on its behalf. Those who seek to make their mark have an open advantage." His way of adding a further zealotry to the believers thus assembled.

A nod from Lumina, and her attention drops to the desk in front of her again, picking up a ballpoint pen and making quick, efficient notes, brainstorming onto a pad really, for ideas and how to ah, compensate for the lull in guest profits, so to speak.

Sloan nods and says, "Alright sounds like they have a plan." he reaches up and loosens his tie a bit more and hten he nods, "Crabs huh? Maybe we should start putting out some traps, we could deliver the ones we catch to the kitchen and kill two birds with one stone so to speak."

The odd feral girl actually hadn't really associated the coming and going of guests as having anything to do with the viability of the hotel. Well, academically Wish understood, but it wasn't really something she thought about. The Croatian would turn up to work, clean rooms and whatever else she could do to help, engage (badly) in small talk with anyone who might dare, then leave and go off to do whatever else she does (which, if folks know her, is usually physical activity of some sort, like running). So this is sort of a 'huh' moment.

Itxaro nods as Enzo mentions there will be a reward for folks that stick it out. She doesn't need the incentive though. It's clear she's fine with whatever Enzo and Management needs, "I'm not familiar with how to remove crabs but if folks need help..." She gives a wider smile, "Maybe Balthasar can do a little hunting." Cause there are no crabs in Itxaro's room.

"Could make an outing of it for guests." Lumina notes absently, "To go crab fishing that is. Prove their fish-catching manly prowess, or something, in hauling up crab traps and sizing them, to get the biggest legal sizes, culminating in the delicious banquet where they get to devour their hard earn spoils, prepared by our skilled culinary staff." She adds, more wiggles of her pencil as she makes the notes, brainstorming and writing down ideas. She's sitting behind the reception desk, tallying up the books or writing down -something-. Enzo has delivered News of Winter Is Slow, and asking folks to work extra because some others may be released for the season. Those here have volunteered to work the extra when needed to. Because they're all nice people.

At the mention of resolving the crab crisis via snake and kitchen methods, Enzo raises his eyebrows. "It has been discovered, to ample satisfaction, that the crabs," he says, "Are distinctly unpalatable. Only by boiling them into grey goo would they qualify as 'edible', and that is being judicious to the extreme with the concept." Clearly, they are not foodstuffs. "What is known is that they are off-course by thousands of miles, originating in the south Pacific islands. Namely, Christmas Island. Hence, they are known as the 'Christmas Island red crabs'." Apparently, they are also red. He then rests his hand comfortably on the concierge's lectern, giving it a slow rub, seeking the reassurance that it can provide. "We have done our level best to ensure that they do not interfere with the guests nor our vendors." He's not saying it, but he's saying: staff and employees must fend for themselves, as best they can.

Sloan asks what to him is the obvious question, "Who is Balthasar? If he knows his way around the outdoors I am sure we could use the extra hands on this." He then scratches his chin, "Never figured that drab wouldn't be edible normally they are pretty tasty."

Blink. Blink blink. "How the blazes did they get all th'way out -here-?" Lumina is apparently familiar with these crabs. "They're critically endangered, as tens of thousands tend to die on their migratory breeding cycle, just -getting- to the ocean." She trails off and frowns "Drat. They very definitely are not a delicious type of crab. But ... it is sort of crab season, right? Aren't they usually best just before the onset of winter?"

"Balthasar is my python...he stays with me in the room. He'll eat things that most folks would turn their nose at but I'm not sure how he feels about crabs," Itxaro admits with a smile to Sloan, "I dance with him in my act." Identifying herself as an entertainer.

Violet had come from outside and quietly sneaks into the lobby. Why outside late at night? She is wearing her pajamas and a overly large not quite hers vintage buccaneer coat. It is obvious it's not hers because her hands get swallowed up by the sleeves. Just the slight hint of cigarette smoke when she comes in from the cool outside. She is a bit taken aback to see a large group of hotel employees. "Fire drill?" She asks softly. Her hair braided up in buns, looks like she went to bed and got up for a walk.

The concierge turns to Violet, then offers her the rundown on the previous sentiments: "We're slimming down for the winter months," he begins, "Which means overtime and retraining as we transition to a different mode for filling the suites. Namely, we're lowering the prices, as to keep them occupied. Also.." He rubs his eyes, shaking his head, then looks to all assembled. "Endangered or no, the Christmas Island red crabs are out of their natural jurisdiction, qualifying them as a pest species. Thus, our culling of them, or however we treat them, will be our call to make." Whether or not that is strictly legal does not seem to be one of Enzo's concerns. "We still have no insight as to their motive, only their behavior: they've taken to scavenging.. offal." Because he refuses to call the garbage 'garbage'. "And being problematic when it comes to guests' pets. There have been.. concerns raised." Namely: several missing or injured animal companions. "Since we opened, this has been a problem of ours." The royal 'ours'. Meaning: not just Management is ticked at the crabs.

Sloan thinks about the matter for a bit, "Well the first question would be figuring out what caused this, or if it is a one-time occurrence - then we can clean things up fairly quickly. But if this is not, then we might have to figure out what the source of the problem is before much good can be done." He then says, "I am not a bad detective when it comes down to it, and for most animals, migration is due to a few things: food, sex and weather."

There's a thoughtful frown from Lumina, as she just listens for the moment, to think on the problem of the future, and the crabs, and how to corral, or deter, potentially plague proportions of the little beasts.

"I don't know much about the crabs, but I do have some netting from one of my costumes. We could use it to try to scoop them up," Itxaro offers, not being the expert at hunting crab, "As far as figuring out what caused this...not my forte but if you need help catching them, I can volunteer." She's not scared of some crabs.

Violet gives a soft 'oh', that's sort of bad for business for her. Her eyebrows furrow and she rubs te sleep from her eyes. She chews her bottom lip in thought. She wraps her arms around her middle. Her sleepy little gears are turning. "What is so special about the island that they are attracted here?" Surely the neighboring islands and mainland are not having the same problem. "Couldn't we follow where the high concentration of them are on the island and see what's going on?" Surely, no pest control person would take this seriously.

The concierge looks to those assembled, sweeping from eye to eye as he regards them with his usual professional degree of concern. "The cause remains unknown," he admits as if parting with a personal depravity in public, "As does the means of successfully capturing them in the water. They're smart enough to disable or avoid all existing traps that we've deployed." And when it comes to all things crustacean, Maine fishermen are experts at live captures. "I shall leave it in your collective, capable hands. If I am needed, I will be in my office." Then he gives the imperious nod which indicates: Enzo, out, y'all.

Sloan nods ot Violet that is not a bad place to start." he then stretches a bit while he tries to stifle a yawn, "I will think some more on it." He pushes himself off the front desk and moves over towards Ixtaro, "Name's Sloan." he tells her as he extends a hand, "It was nice meeting you, but I need to head back to the main land." He continues, "Got an early shift in the morning," He gives Enzo a grin and a wave as the other man heads toward his office, "And I don't think I can afford to be late."

"It's nice to meet you Sloan," Itxaro shakes his hand and then starts to head off to, the group is scattering now that Enzo is done talking, "Violet, if I think of anything I'll let you know." She does do something when she shakes his hand, gets a feel for Sloan. It's very subtle, but Itxaro is curious.

"If you have the time, Mr. Gancia, I'll drop by in a while with some ideas for events to lure temporary residents and a high turnover." Lumina offers lightly, "I need to refine the ideas, as it stands. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better time?" She does glance to the others, welcoming additional brainstorming on the topic of either crabs or people.

Violet smiles over to Sloan since it's been awhile since she's seen him around. She waves a bit. "Safe Travels Sloan." She knows what it is like to have to go back and forth between the main land and the island. However, Violet has the luxury of being able to sort of make her own schedule. She tugs her coat closer because she's in her night clothes basically. She smirks watching Itxi and Sloan interact. She's left standing there, not sure what to do, but sleep was out of the question now. After terrified vendors this morning and this, Violet is under stress, a second cigarette sounded good right now.