Welcome to Gaia! ::

The wolfos tugged as his collar. Why shirts had to had them he didn't know, but they were far too tight and they chafed. He preferred his normal outfit but no. This was an interview. What was traditional professional at home was not professional here. Here Frost in the Storm would have to wear a suit and deal with it. Collar and all. If anything the tie was nice. So were the red gem cufflinks. He liked those too.

Unlike his cufflinks and tie, like the collar, he wasn't exactly keen on the idea of an interview. The closest he experienced was when elders grilled him about pack knowledge. Which, mostly end in him with his tail between his legs once he managed to get out of the room. They judged so harshly, he worried about their approval constantly. Hopefully, this Rat Man would be kinder than King's uncle and tribe elders.

Entering the room, King's face contorted in displeasure as he caught the scent of the cigar. "That's against school policy." He coughed, bringing his sleeve up to his nose. Of all things to smoke, why a cigar? It was terrible and overpowering and cheap too, (king didn't know this, only speculated because it smelt bad, it must have inherently been bad). "I am here for the interview?"

The ghost had no idea what the LIVE box meant. Was their live prey somewhere? Had someone been recently dead? Still, he crossed his arms behind his back as he'd done back home. Orderly. Mannered. Confident. Proud. Wise. Things an alpha should be. Leaning to the mircophone, sniffing it, his ear twitched slightly before pulling back.

"I am Frost in the Storm." It was odd, this interview thing for the radio. Alas, he was unknown in how microphones and like worked.

Sitting down, his tail curled around his feet. So now he was to sit? On level? Strange. Adjusting the tie a bit he tried to relax but it was a very awkward thing. Far from his comfort zone at least, though not the worst.

"I had a few ideas. And it's Frost or King. I am not 'guy'." He huffed. "One idea was something akin to a morning howl. It was a tradition of my home to start the morning with a howl and it would be nice to have such a thing here. I think some of the more canine influenced beings might enjoy it." He shrugged. "The other idea was a daily if short lesson on manners and how to treat and court possible mates. I have thus far seen appalling behavior in such respect. Boils not even holding a door open for a ghoul, Ghouls who chew with their mouths open. How one expects to find a companion with such actions is beyond me." His tail flicked. He thought they were good ideas.

"Well if you want a rut one should at least try." Again he huffed. Boils and some ghouls here, so rude. "But I will how for you." Pushing the microphone back slightly, he threw back and began a howl. Not his best, but close.

"Was that suitable?" Red eyes flicked over to the LIVE box. he was curious what was inside that was alive.

"Oh." Head cocked to the side. "You wanted blood curling? The point of the morning howl is to inspire kinship and the welcome of a new day. A howl to strike fear- that is held for a hunt." He grinned, fangs present in pearly white. He would do that if they were hunting but not for amusement. A howl had meaning after all.

Tapping his chin at the thought of music he smiled. "I know of the John Dangerous fellow. He seems quite popular with the ghouls. Freya was... quite enthusiatic about him at Scarentines .. where... he made a ghoul explode." He paused. "On the table."

"In front of many."

A huff he crossed his arms. "Really, he should have at least taken her aside. But I enjoy more the classics. Barcoven. Blech. Chopping. Morzart. And the style you played a bit earlier though I am unfamiliar with it."

Roch was grinning slightly as he came in, feeling pretty good about this idea overall. The chance to play music on the radio--and not that pop crap--it was like a jackin' dream come true. He headed in, ignoring those waiting--because he swore he just heard King list a bunch of ancient geezers as music to play on the radio.

".........Is this the moldin' oldies station?" he asked blankly, scratching the side of his head. "I thought this was a school radio."

"Yeeeah, and we'll be back, in the meantime, here's an oldie but a goodie, for you hounds listenin' in and haven't yet stormed my office," Enzo swiveled his chair, keeping his gaze and raised eyebrow locked on King.

A flip of a button, music wafting in the background before the bass in the corner gave an amused series of low humming beats, the red sign blinking off.

"Soooooo you lot wanna' be in the Radio Business, eh? What makes you think you got what it takes? Nona' that yawny malarkey," He waggled a finger at the white-haired canine before giving Roch a once-over, nodding in approval before looking over to the remaining ghoul with a much more critical expression, "What you gonna' call yourselves, then?"