seconddaughter: (miss me,darling)
M.O.M.O. ([personal profile] seconddaughter) wrote in [community profile] towerofanimus2013-01-31 11:59 pm

makes me wanna wail, MAAAAAAAAAIL!!

Characters: MOMO and you / roommates, plus anyone on the third floor
Setting: Floor 78 (with a portion for wherever) and Room 3-07
Format: Prose, and then I'll match!
Summary: Part one: OH BOY LETTERS I WANT A PEN PAL THIS IS GONNA BE SO MUCH FUN!! Part two: Alby has, ah... separation anxiety sometimes. Hope you guys aren't allergic to pillow down.
Warnings: None!


Floor 78

Feeling a little bit like Jin (and his "archaic hobbies"), MOMO has procured herself a postal box. It was strange, because she knew perfectly well that digital transmission was more efficient when it came to communication, and that while the UMN was still around, postal services were completely obsolete. And yet, maybe there was a certain charm in hand-written letters and packages, especially when they were anonymous. It was personal, and a little exciting.

So, MOMO is, first and foremost, interrogating the entire tower about the post office boxes. She'll be coming up to anyone who looks reasonably receptive (and possibly a few who don't?) to see if she can pique someone's interest in being letter buddies. Maybe they can learn more about each other that way, too!

Later, she is quite possibly dropping anonymous letters into the boxes that have already been taken, hovering for a while at the drop as though to make sure her letter absolutely went where it was supposed to go and didn't vanish into the abyss. More than likely, anyone signing up for a box or checking theirs out will catch her slipping it in there. Alternatively, you might receive a polite and earnest, if awkwardly scrawled, letter of greeting that has not been signed, but makes mention that any replies can be put in box 0011.



Room 3-07

MOMO opens the door to a room that looks like a tornado swept through it.

Correction: it looks like a tornado swept through the pillows specifically, and that tornado's name is Alby the albino chihuahua. She'd left him in her room for the day; normally, he's much better than he used to be about being left by himself for a few hours, but in this case, MOMO had completely forgotten to go check on him, busy as she was checking out the newer floors today. The bed pillows being thoroughly destroyed is her punishment.

"Oh no, Alby!" she says as she crosses the room in a hurry and tries futilely to sweep a small pile of down with her hands, then slows to a halt. "You must have gotten lonely... I'm sorry. I won't forget about you again, I promise. But now I have to clean up this mess before the others come back..."

Of course, this means someone better catch her red-handed in the act of cleaning up. There'll probably be a trail of down and small shreds of fabric in the hallway from where she's hefting it out of the room, and afterward, she'll be going door-to-door on the third floor to trouble anyone willing to listen for some extra pillows.

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