Lucy gets warped to a different place and time in the Fallen London universe
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With thousands of idle hands transplanting and tilling and seeding she can cover large sections of this barren rock with trees and gardens of the food seeds she managed to pick up in London. People are singing work songs and almost happy, working for themselves for once. It's not quite a proper forest, trees alone does not a forest make, and there aren't any birds or other forest animals - but all that's a problem for another day. The local critters don't know what to make of it.

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The local critters can fucking adapt! 

And after a couple hours she checks up on the progress of the passenger roster. 

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There's another six hundred and change who've decided on going to London, much less than last time. People are pretty sure she's going to be a regular feature here for a while (they're really thankful by the way!!!) so more of them want to stay where there's camaraderie and distance from the Establishment.

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"I mean, it's not like I earned my weird powers or anything, I was just born like this, and since I was, it's kind of my responsibility to use it, you know?" 

She will haul some cargo as well as passengers this time then. She double-checks the location of the fences and asks if they're a good place to liquidate Hours too or if she should look elsewhere. 

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She can sell Hours at Spatialfields Market, they're not contraband at all and they're fungible enough nobody would suspect them stolen, unlike all this shiny-but-useless-to-them industrial equipment. Wit & Vinegar, in addition to being fences, are also a good place to pick up cheap lumber. It helps their cover, doing some actual business, so they'll like her for it.

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Awesome. 

She brings the people-carrier boxes to the same place as last time and leaves them there even if there aren't any stragglers, then finds a different spot to stash the cargo, then turns back and strolls over to Wit & Vinegar. 

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What's a pretty thing like her doing in the rough part of town? This is a worksite, not a tourist trap. Closed to visitors.

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"I have some illegally obtained industrial equipment I'd like to sell, and later I want to buy lumber although I want to liquidate some Hours first. If you'd rather I shooed until I have legal business as well I can come back in a bit."

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"Woah, hey, we don't do anything illegal here. Even if there were something illegal going on, people who knew about it would know who to talk to specifically and be able to tell me their names."

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"That, I was not informed of. Is that an anti-entrapment protection measure, will it help if I confess to several crimes? I guess probably the Workworlds thing hasn't made it this far yet."

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"This is a legitimate business and I'll keep saying so. We don't want loud, distinctive, reckless folk involved in our businesses."

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Sigh. "Fine. Does that mean I can't come back later and licitly buy lumber." 

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"Sure, we have lots of lumber for sale, we're a lumber company. Bulk discount, even."

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"Good to know." 

She wanders off, spinning Hours from her hands, looking for Spatialfields Market. 

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She'll need a box for them before long. People are astonished as her making hours. Most keep their distance. A couple are happy to give directions.

Spatialfields Market is on the third-highest level, but it has a clear view of the sky. Great arches of steel and glass form a dome of noise and frame the Heavens as two dozen clearing houses and stores sprawl below. Electric lights turn on as the distant stars dim for what passes for night, here.

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She has a lot of pockets, she can go, like, some amount of time before needing anything else, but yeah. 

Once she finds it she gestures with an Hour taken from the crook of her arm where some pocket-overflow is hanging out and says, "Hello, I would like to trade these for currency." 

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The first shopkeeper directs her to another storefront.

"Not a great idea to just go carrying those around ya know? But fill a barrel and you get hundo-five Sovs, seeing as these are pretty good as Hours go."

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"I'd be unusually difficult to mug." 

She dumps her armload into the barrel and empties her pockets and has a few left over when the barrel's full. 

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The shopkeep presses a heavy lid on the barrel, seals it with wax, hands over coins.

"More meant on account of them maybe unspooling and being unfortunate for you and surrounding individuals. Not even gonna ask where you got 'em. We buy hours, we don't ask questions."

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"Oh! Understood." 

She accepts the money and heads back to the definitely-not-fences to inquire about lumber prices. 

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She doesn't have nearly as much money as she got from the Bronzewood tree, but she can have three big pallets of pre-cut wood for that price, or a whole big cargo box's worth of raw logs.

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Hmm she'll take the logs, they were expecting to be able to work with, like, trees, that she grew, after all. 

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Pleasure doin' business with her. Remember that if she has more business she needs a proper introduction, you can't run certain kinds of business and talk to whoever shows up at the front door, you know?

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Yep, sorry, she understands now. 

She takes the cargo box of logs and heads down to where she left the people-boxes. Anyone still there?

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Nope, nobody there. The cargo boxes fit unremarkably in with the general semi-urban decay so nobody's come to investigate them either.

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