Éponine Thénardier (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
filleauloup) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2019-07-22 10:22 pm
filleauloup) wrote in fandomtownies2019-07-22 10:22 pm
Entry tags:
Fandom Post Office, July 23 (Tuesday)
Éponine had stepped out of her front door this morning and immediately fallen into what looked like home, which was to say Paris nearly 200 years ago, except that everybody seemed to be singing. Then she'd ducked into an alley, sufficiently perplexed by all this, and found herself here, in the employee break room.
The post office seemed normal enough, except that the computers had been replaced by pretty, if less sophisticated, manual cash registers and scales and rubber stamps, and there was an odd pervasive smell around the place. A bit of poking around revealed a tank of whale oil set into a socket in the wall that appeared to be powering the entire establishment, and a spare tank kept nearby.
Well, she'd just have to deal with the smell, she supposed. Unless she fell through another rift and ended up somewhere else. In the meantime, she'd just be poking at the registers and scales, trying to figure out how they worked.
[OOC: No OCD, post office is open! If a little Dishonored style today.]
The post office seemed normal enough, except that the computers had been replaced by pretty, if less sophisticated, manual cash registers and scales and rubber stamps, and there was an odd pervasive smell around the place. A bit of poking around revealed a tank of whale oil set into a socket in the wall that appeared to be powering the entire establishment, and a spare tank kept nearby.
Well, she'd just have to deal with the smell, she supposed. Unless she fell through another rift and ended up somewhere else. In the meantime, she'd just be poking at the registers and scales, trying to figure out how they worked.
[OOC: No OCD, post office is open! If a little Dishonored style today.]