Office Hou-- oh wait, Thursday, May 24
Tyrion was down the hall from his office when he smelled it: A stench like rotten fish and brimstone, like a pile of dung wrapped in damp wool. It reminded him, for reasons he didn't ponder too deeply, of Roose Bolton's bastard.
Tyrion was almost surprised when he pushed his cracked office door open the rest of the way and found nothing but a goat inside. He looked at what the goat was chewing on -- some papers and wires, nothing that seemed irreplaceable -- considered its size relative to his, and went around the goat to get paper and a quill off his desk.
Anyone looking for Tyrion much later would find nothing but the following sign on his door:
OFFICE HOURS CANCELED DUE TO GOAT. USE THE TELEPHONE IF YOU NEED ME.
[OOC: Open if you want to find him while he's making the sign, I suppose?]
Tyrion was almost surprised when he pushed his cracked office door open the rest of the way and found nothing but a goat inside. He looked at what the goat was chewing on -- some papers and wires, nothing that seemed irreplaceable -- considered its size relative to his, and went around the goat to get paper and a quill off his desk.
Anyone looking for Tyrion much later would find nothing but the following sign on his door:
OFFICE HOURS CANCELED DUE TO GOAT. USE THE TELEPHONE IF YOU NEED ME.
[OOC: Open if you want to find him while he's making the sign, I suppose?]