[center]Azzy[/center]
Azzy woke up to the sound of his alarm clock playing the Hatikva, and calmly listened to the sound with a blank face. He took the time to stretch and rub the tired feeling from his eyes. He slid out of his bed with a grunt and trudged towards his modest closet, filled with patterned dress shirts, colorful vests and suit jackets, and semi-normal suit pants. Azzy quickly got dressed in his favorite outfit; A kaleidoscope-square patterned dress shirt, a tweed vest, gray dress-pants, and a warm coat with fur lining to fight off the New York chill. Lastly, he picked up a Kippah and smoothed it onto his head.

"Oy va'avoy..." He groaned, cracking his back before putting on a smile and walking out of his room, towards the kitchen. Grabbing a coffee cup and packed breakfast that was already set out for him and the other kids, Azzy ran out the door and to his motorcycle, off towards Medella Industries.

When the young CHRO arrived at the top floor-15 mintues early- he went immediately to his office and began eating his breakfast, waiting for the others to arrive.

[i]'I wonder when Ach-Milo will arrive...'[/i]

[center]Tally[/center]

Tally arrived at Medella Industries at the same time as many others, going up the cramped elevator until she reached the top floor, where only she and Mr. Sarco stepped out. She made a quick detour to Mr. Azzy's office, calling a soft, "Boker Tov!" To the man, who smiled and waved back, replying in kind. Tally, upon noticing the young man was prone to outbursts in his native tongue, looked up a few simple phrases to try and make the CHMO feel more comfortable and relaxed; Good Morning was one of them. In the past year that she's worked on the top floor, this has come to be routine in the mornings.

Tally went to her desk and turned on her inscent burner on, placing one of the wax cubes on the top. She smiled kindly at the dour Mr. Sarco as he sat at his desk two spots to her right.

[center]Jonathan[/center]

"Damn brats polluting the air with those stupid smelling candles." Jonathan grumbled as the woman smiled at him. He glared back. He remembered the good ol' when it smelled of fine cigars and fresh newspapers; now it smelled like lavender and pansies. He growled and hunched over his desk, filing another report to the CHMO about the stupid incents messing with his ability to work. 

He didn't expect it to work anymore than it did any other time.