The Help Box

[birdical]

Who: Elleru's Help Box and you! [OTA]
What: Someone decided the best way to figure out what help people need was to just ask.
Where: Anchor, housing level
When: Thoughout March and into April
Misc: Wasn't sure if this needed to go in the log comm or the network comm, given the format of it, but feel free to hit me up at grimmhooke or on Discord if you've got any questions!

A box has appeared outside the barracks.



It looks something like the above, save for that it is literally rough around the edges: the box itself is fairly nice, but the slot in the top looks as though it was clawed out with a jagged knife, the edges having barely been smoothed over. There's a lock on the front, hanging above some writing painted in a childish, curlicue script. It reads as follows:

❀ Need Help? Looking for Something? Fill Out A Card. I Want to Help You. ❀

And above the box is a bulletin board with a number of colorful, paper flowers pinned to the corners. That must be for replies. Get creative with notes, steal the flowers from the board, ask a vague question with no real answer -- have at it Anchorites, as Elleru's Help Box is open for business... or trolling. Or both.

Comments

[birdical]

[Now here's a request that's a little harder to handle. How does one get off someone's mind? Does she know this person? Do they know the box is hers? Well, they must if they wrote that, but now Elleru wants to know just who this note-leaver is. It's like a little game of finding out the identity of a secret admirer, and she is thrilled by that prospect.

She starts by inspecting the note carefully. Sharp handwriting, kind of hard to read -- it doesn't seem like handwriting Rey would have, but she's shy enough that she might think to write to this anonymous message board rather than just admitting her mind has been preoccupied with thoughts of her roommate. A cute notion, but it could be from someone else. She doesn't know what Scaramouche's handwriting looks like, either. Or Qubit's. Or Reynir's. Or Kieran's. Or anyone's other than Ami really. Drat.

She writes back, leaving the note pinned beneath the flower, which has been moved to one of the corners of the board.]

Why is it I am on your mind?

[numerouno]

[The next morning, another response in that same, mysterious handwriting can be found on the overleaf of her note.]

Do you really have to ask?

[birdical]

I do. I could be on one's mind for many reasons.

[But she's hoping the reason this person has is a good one.]

[numerouno]

[A new day, another reply.]

It's simple, doll.

I want to make you sing again.

[He's laying his cards on the table; she always does. If she had any doubts over who was writing her, this oughta clear them up.]

[birdical]

[Ooooooooooh now she knows who this is. Enjoy another flower with her next note.]

You are welcome to make me sing anytime. ♥ We make beautiful music together, no matter which instrument you use.

[And just in case her attempt at upright wordplay is off, she includes a small drawing of what appears to be a winking emoji.]

[numerouno]

[He'll be taking that flower now; it's going in her hair later.]

Let's make more of it tonight. How about it?