@Genesic Saryn
Namjilyn Nergüi
It should have been assumed that Nergüi took the welfare of her business seriously to the point of paranoia. That said, of all the things which could happen, preparing for a natural disaster was rather low on her list of priorities. Manta Carlos was an island run by the magical, the supernatural, the strange. Such things should have at least meant safety from wide-scale misfortune. Unfortunately, Nergüi could sometimes be partially wrong. There was a disaster, yes. But it was also not natural, a fact that failed to reassure her sensibilities.
"All available employees report to work now," she had written in both emails and texts. Several had not responded at all and a few had given weak excuses for why they should not come in. Nergüi would remember that. To her displeasure, Wesker had been one of the few who had not said replied back. He was a student, however. Perhaps that was simply a sign that the Academy had very stable evacuation procedures in place. Nonetheless, they would have words later, when the entire mess was done and dealt with. For now, she had an establishment to secure.
An investor and good friend of hers had called in two trucks to help with the moving. Though Julian was not in town to experience the situation, Nergüi appreciated his consideration. He, of course, also had some finances at stake here.
"Be careful with those jars!" Nergüi ordered, as stacks of blood were stowed into the refrigerated vehicles. If the tsunami turned out bad, she knew exactly what would happen. First, there would be causalities, then there would be an even greater pressure for people to donate blood -actually donate blood. The hospitals would be overflowing. Her own business would become parched, dead entirely if she did not save most of what she had. Depending on the severity of the flooding, she might lose all of the refrigerators in the bar -a major loss. They were immovable now, as they had been welded into the ground, and she could not waste time tearing them up.
She calculated every factor she could see. The blood was half-packed now, more or less. The first truck had been sent to safer grounds with the most expensive bloods and most valuable objects stored safely in it. The business could survive with that, if they were lucky enough to find enough wealthy drinkers, but they could have more. Needed more, even. Though she cared little about more modest folk themselves, she did care of what violence they might resort to as a result of desperation. It was a shameful thing.
Other employees were sealing every possible crack with duct tape, both outside and inside the building. Plastic bags were wrapped around everything of value that could not be taken away or put upstairs. Every emptied refrigerator was double wrapped and taped for good measure.
"Three to four hours" was not a lot of time at all.
Namjilyn Nergüi
It should have been assumed that Nergüi took the welfare of her business seriously to the point of paranoia. That said, of all the things which could happen, preparing for a natural disaster was rather low on her list of priorities. Manta Carlos was an island run by the magical, the supernatural, the strange. Such things should have at least meant safety from wide-scale misfortune. Unfortunately, Nergüi could sometimes be partially wrong. There was a disaster, yes. But it was also not natural, a fact that failed to reassure her sensibilities.
"All available employees report to work now," she had written in both emails and texts. Several had not responded at all and a few had given weak excuses for why they should not come in. Nergüi would remember that. To her displeasure, Wesker had been one of the few who had not said replied back. He was a student, however. Perhaps that was simply a sign that the Academy had very stable evacuation procedures in place. Nonetheless, they would have words later, when the entire mess was done and dealt with. For now, she had an establishment to secure.
An investor and good friend of hers had called in two trucks to help with the moving. Though Julian was not in town to experience the situation, Nergüi appreciated his consideration. He, of course, also had some finances at stake here.
"Be careful with those jars!" Nergüi ordered, as stacks of blood were stowed into the refrigerated vehicles. If the tsunami turned out bad, she knew exactly what would happen. First, there would be causalities, then there would be an even greater pressure for people to donate blood -actually donate blood. The hospitals would be overflowing. Her own business would become parched, dead entirely if she did not save most of what she had. Depending on the severity of the flooding, she might lose all of the refrigerators in the bar -a major loss. They were immovable now, as they had been welded into the ground, and she could not waste time tearing them up.
She calculated every factor she could see. The blood was half-packed now, more or less. The first truck had been sent to safer grounds with the most expensive bloods and most valuable objects stored safely in it. The business could survive with that, if they were lucky enough to find enough wealthy drinkers, but they could have more. Needed more, even. Though she cared little about more modest folk themselves, she did care of what violence they might resort to as a result of desperation. It was a shameful thing.
Other employees were sealing every possible crack with duct tape, both outside and inside the building. Plastic bags were wrapped around everything of value that could not be taken away or put upstairs. Every emptied refrigerator was double wrapped and taped for good measure.
"Three to four hours" was not a lot of time at all.
