fandomtownies | Fandom Post Office: Tuesday (6/03)

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Fandom Post Office: Tuesday (6/03)

Moist walked into the Post Office - not wearing his golden suit - and tripped over piles of mail. "Gladys! What's going on?"

"Mail, Mr Lipwig. For Other Places."

"What?" He waded through the letters, picking them up at random. "Morrowing? Raccoon City? Salidar? Fiddler's Green? The Nameless City?" He looked up. "How can it be the nameless city. It obviously has a name. What are they doing here?"

"I Do Not Know. They Came Through The Engine. Many Letters. They've Been Coming Since Last Night."

"Well pour them back in!" Moist shoved his handful of mail at Gladys and took refuge on the counter. "They don't belong here. Mail for Fandom. That's all we deal with it. Send them back!"

Gladys began tossing letters into the Engine's glow while Moist watched from a safe distance.

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The mail's finally been cleared up. Moist is keeping an eye on the Sorting Engine.

Annette visited after her first period class. "Hello?"

"Good morning, welcome to the Fandom Post Office!" With one last suspicious look at the Sorting Engine, Moist turned his attention to the new arrival, smiling a welcome. "What can the post office do for you today?"

She smiled in return; she was going to try and be as nice and polite as possible. "Good morning to you. I have recieved all my mail that was inadvertently lost. All except a care package that my parents had sent me. I think perhaps it was delivered to the wrong person who might have opened it, which is really a federal offense, and they are now enjoying everything that was meant for me. Can this be looked into? Somehow?"

"I'm sure we can manage that. If your mail's gone astray, the post office has failed, and that's not acceptable," Moist said cherfully, wondering exactly what a federal offence was. It didn't sound like something he wanted to run afoul of. "There was a fair backlog when I arrived, but we got most of it out, Ms...?" He looked at her expectantly.

"Hargrove, Annette Hargrove. And thanks Mr.?" Common courtesy, really. "And so you think that maybe my package just might not have made it to me yet?" Because if someone had it and opened it, that offence ~~yes, mun so meant offence with a C, really.~~ was just not tolerable. Not at all.

"Moist. Moist von Lipwig," he replied, wondering if this time he was going to get a reaction. "And it's likely. Far more likely that than we would have misdelivered it. The mail is a sacred trust, after all." He attempted to look noble and earnest. "I'll just have a look in the sorting room, shall I? See if I can find it?"

That's right. She heard his name on the radio. Moist. What a name. "Thank you, Mr. Lipwig, I would really appreciate it." She nodded with a smile and was content to wait.

Still no reaction. If this kept up, he was going to get a complex. "Give me a minute or two, and we'll see what we can find."

Moist went into the back room, skirting the edges to give the widest possible berth to the now quiescent machine. There was a pile of parcels waiting of delivery, and in the pile was a squarish box wrapped in brown paper, with Annette's name on it.

"And this, I believe," he said, returning to set the parcel on the counter in front of her. "Is yours."

Watching him approach with a parcel in hand, she eagerly looked down at it when he set it before her on the counter. Sure enough, her mother's flowery scrawl was neatly penned across the address label.

Annette beamed at Moist. Ugh. So many thoughts and images applied themselves to his name. What was his mother thinking? "Thank you so much, Moi- er, Mr. Lipwig. What a great post master you are. You have a good day now!"

"No thanks necessary. My reward is the satisfaction of a job well done." Okay, maybe he was laying it on a bit thick, but she was bright and bubbly and people like that were usually susceptible. "Enjoy the rest of your day, and your package."

Xander wandered in out of the drizzle in the morning, having remembered M-- Mr. Master of the Post's comments about the building needing work.

"Morning," he said, looking around thoughtfully.

"And a good morning to you," Moist called. "My inestimable landlord, and just the person I needed to see. How are you at repairing leaks?"

"In the building itself? Or the water pipes?" Xander asked. "Building, we're golden. Pipes, I can do simple stuff, but I know when to call in a plumber."

"The building. The clock tower seems to be leaking," he explained. "So far it's only a drip here, a drip there, but mail and water don't go together at all well."

"Huh. Yeah, that'd be bad. Especially if the rain keeps up. Can I take a look around up there?"

"I'd appreciate if you would." Moist came around the counter, happy to have someone who knew what they were doing to pass the problem off to. As a rule he didn't do physical things, unless it involved running away; even then, he preferred a casual stroll. "Up the stairs, down the hall, and then up the spiral staircase. It used to have pigeons, but I think they're long gone."

"Pigeons I can handle. If there's flying monkey demons, I charge extra." He was kidding. Mostly. Though bearing in mind the time Andrew was trying to show them how to counteract that spell and things did not exactly play out as planned, Xander carried his umbrella up the stairs with him, just in case.

"...flying monkey demons?" he said weakly as he returned to the counter, making a note of where Gladys was in case a sudden invasion flew down the stairs.

He was beginning to suspect that boredom was not going to be a problem. Give it a week or two and he'd probably be positively craving it. "Flying monkey demons. Perfect."

Setsuna stopped in at the post office on her way back from visiting Ami because she realized, especially since she found herself thinking a lot of Konoka-Ojou-sama when she was sitting beside Ami, that today was the sixth, which meant it would soon be the fifteenth, and the eighteenth, and those were two very important days.

"Excuse me?" she asked, hoping to get the attention of someone.

"Welcome to the post office," Moist called in what was beginning to feel like a standard greeting. "What can I do for you?"

"Thank you," Setsuna nodded her head in response to the greeting. "I was wondering, how long do you suppose it would take you to ship out packages to Japan? I have some very important days coming up, and want to make sure I send them out with enough time for them to arrive. Preferably on those specific days."

Moist had absolutely no idea, about how long it would take or where, in fact, Japan was. But you didn't get anywhere showing uncertainty, and the Sorting Engine seemed to be very quick. "I'd say three, maybe four days. But there may be an express service I could look into, direct delivery as it were, that would see them arrive on a given day."

Setsuna considered this and nodded a little. Not sending stuff by magic was so complicated sometimes. "I...I think that will be good, yes. Thank you."

"That's what the post office is for," he said, waving away the thanks. "Now, what days do you need them to be in Japan," Japan? His next acquisition was going to be a book of maps, "by?"

"One by the fifteenth, the other by the eighteenth," Setsuna said. "I don't actually have the packages now; I was just making sure I had enough time to obtain what will go in those packages."

"Of course. Well, bring them by, no later than," he stared up at the ceiling, as if lost in deep thought, "lets say the eleventh and the fourteenth, just to be on the safe side, and we'll make sure they get there." He was also going to have to get a calendar. "And you should wrap them up, nice and secure, throw in a bit of padding if you can. Delivery can be a bit hard on parcels travelling that far." Again, he had no idea how far was that far, but it sounded good. That's what mattered.

Setsuna nodded. It all made a fine bit of sense to here, definately. "Thank you, sir. I will make sure to do just that."

Sir. It was better than Moist, anyway, and it showed that it was working. "Excellent. And I'll personally see to it that they arrive when you need them to."

The 'personally' struck Setsuna as a wee bit strange, but she shook her head a little bit and shrugged it off, thanking the man again before bidding him a good day and being on her way.

She's Finished With The Postal Overflow And Is Smouldering In The Corner.

The eyes are back. But they're harmless.

Standing by the mailbox on her way up to the school, Laura hesitated, looking once more to the letter in her hand. It was addressed to Tory Foster, specified her tent number, and New Caprica, just as Laura had previous addressed her letters to Adama. Those had made it to their destinations; Tory's letter surely shouldn't be any different...but it was certainly more important. The mail service would have to be her link to the rebellion on New Caprica.

As she reached to slip the envelope into the slot, she gave a start. Eyes in the mailbox? That was a new feature! Closing her own eyes, she shook her head and dropped the envelope in the slot. She would know in a few days if Tory received her letter or not.

She opened her eyes and headed for the school. What was it about this place, anyway?

See the icon of ADORABLENESS!

OMG ADORABLE! The hat!

it really is total cuteness!

Yay adorableness!

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Fandom Post Office: Tuesday (6/03)

Moist!

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