Z. Altius (
chimericalclaw) wrote in
expiationlogs2025-02-01 03:40 pm
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open 🌌 today's crime: soliciting
Who: Zekarion & YOU
Where: YOUR HOME, Aldrip Post Office, and assorted locations
What: Expiation, say hello to centralized mail services! Also there is an extremely tired man to bother.
Warnings: references to game-induced visions of violence and such, probably.
One day early in February, the people of Aldrip will find a letter delivered to their residence—sitting on their doorstep, on a nearby table or surface, slid under the door, whatever possible to make sure that you get your very first piece of public mail!
Inside is a typewritten letter headed with a letterhead seal proclaiming its origin as the Aldrip Postal Service. The letter describes the marvels of the mail service such as the founder is familiar with them: daily deliveries to and from the convenience of your home, local experts already familiar with recipients' addresses, the versatile nature of physical communication and lack of electricity requirement. Privacy is a promise, and the Aldrip Postal Service will send any and all mail... that isn't an active physical danger to those delivering or receiving it. Not that anyone would try such a thing! :)
The letter also brings up the upcoming Day of Devotion—for those romantically inclined who may want to send surprise or secret packages of flowers or sweets or love letters, anonymity is guaranteed. The delivery people don't even know where they came from without a return address!
The letter concludes with a note that the office is seeking organizational staff, couriers, and trainers to help handle their carrier pigeons to make the mail as efficient as it can be.
If you'd like to officially request your own mail box (it's free!), look into the job offers, or simply take a look at the post office itself, the address in the heading is repeated at the bottom of the letter. The founder only signs ZA at the bottom, so you'll just have to go in person to find out who's sending you mail now.
(Regardless of who it is, they're not responsible for any unwanted chain letters or advertisements received. If someone wants to reach out about your carriage's extended warranty, the mail service will not discriminate.)
⬬ some kind of trouble on the sensory screen | post office
[The brick and stone building, situated right near the middle of the city not far from the inn, has a few entrances, one under a set of arches, another under a covering supported by pillars. A couple of people in blue uniforms stand outside each one, offering informational fliers about what one can expect from the mail service. One of said people is dressed slightly differently, however; a tall man with dark hair wears a blue suit and tie to match the other workers, answering questions and encouraging people to step inside.
If anyone approaches closely enough to be heard with a normal conversational tone, he'll offer a greeting appropriate to the time of day.]
Have you gotten one of our letters yet?
⬬ clutch at plausible deniability | cafe/inn
[He can't spend all his time doing that, though. He's only one man, and he has other endeavors to work on. Endeavors such as trying not to look too exhausted over the coffee he's nursing at the local cafe or inn, or sigh too loudly over it.]
⬬ some kind of drama live on satellite | elsewhere/wildcard
[ooc: interested in something else? plot with me here or at
lumieresdedragon!]
Where: YOUR HOME, Aldrip Post Office, and assorted locations
What: Expiation, say hello to centralized mail services! Also there is an extremely tired man to bother.
Warnings: references to game-induced visions of violence and such, probably.
One day early in February, the people of Aldrip will find a letter delivered to their residence—sitting on their doorstep, on a nearby table or surface, slid under the door, whatever possible to make sure that you get your very first piece of public mail!
Inside is a typewritten letter headed with a letterhead seal proclaiming its origin as the Aldrip Postal Service. The letter describes the marvels of the mail service such as the founder is familiar with them: daily deliveries to and from the convenience of your home, local experts already familiar with recipients' addresses, the versatile nature of physical communication and lack of electricity requirement. Privacy is a promise, and the Aldrip Postal Service will send any and all mail... that isn't an active physical danger to those delivering or receiving it. Not that anyone would try such a thing! :)
The letter also brings up the upcoming Day of Devotion—for those romantically inclined who may want to send surprise or secret packages of flowers or sweets or love letters, anonymity is guaranteed. The delivery people don't even know where they came from without a return address!
The letter concludes with a note that the office is seeking organizational staff, couriers, and trainers to help handle their carrier pigeons to make the mail as efficient as it can be.
If you'd like to officially request your own mail box (it's free!), look into the job offers, or simply take a look at the post office itself, the address in the heading is repeated at the bottom of the letter. The founder only signs ZA at the bottom, so you'll just have to go in person to find out who's sending you mail now.
(Regardless of who it is, they're not responsible for any unwanted chain letters or advertisements received. If someone wants to reach out about your carriage's extended warranty, the mail service will not discriminate.)
⬬ some kind of trouble on the sensory screen | post office
[The brick and stone building, situated right near the middle of the city not far from the inn, has a few entrances, one under a set of arches, another under a covering supported by pillars. A couple of people in blue uniforms stand outside each one, offering informational fliers about what one can expect from the mail service. One of said people is dressed slightly differently, however; a tall man with dark hair wears a blue suit and tie to match the other workers, answering questions and encouraging people to step inside.
If anyone approaches closely enough to be heard with a normal conversational tone, he'll offer a greeting appropriate to the time of day.]
Have you gotten one of our letters yet?
⬬ clutch at plausible deniability | cafe/inn
[He can't spend all his time doing that, though. He's only one man, and he has other endeavors to work on. Endeavors such as trying not to look too exhausted over the coffee he's nursing at the local cafe or inn, or sigh too loudly over it.]
⬬ some kind of drama live on satellite | elsewhere/wildcard
[ooc: interested in something else? plot with me here or at