Bring on the soup dish, bring on the cup [CLOSED]
Characters: Zidane Tribal and Giselle Philip
Content: Zidane, as ordered, goes mooching for food. Giselle, staunch defender of the galley, will brook no nonsense from this sneaky little--oh, who are we kidding?
Setting: The galley of the Winding Way
Time: BACKDATED, just after Giselle's return to the Way
Warnings: Deliciousness?
Hunger is the best sauce. So they supposedly said in the houses of the high and mighty, and Zidane did remember what food he could get his hands on tasting pretty marvelous in the early days of his grubbing childhood.
He hadn't, however, gone consistently hungry in years. Baku was good to his boys, and Tantalus had been successful beyond the old man's wildest dreams. Consequently the old clock tower's makeshift pantry had always stayed well-stocked...
Well. After years of meals at the rambunctious, grabbing, hand-slapping, shouting, laughing table of his foster family, and only finagling the occasional late-night snack, Zidane was a little out of practice at wheedling for his supper.
He'd been getting up to speed all right, taking tips from the other powder monkeys and cabin boys on which cooks were likeliest to dish things up the quickest with the least fuss, and dropping through the galley when his stomach rumbled. But he wasn't yet over the vague uneasy feeling that he was five years old again and about to get his tail dusted with the business end of a wooden spoon by some angry housewife.
Pausing at the door to the galley, Zidane dusted down his shirtfront and squared his shoulders. Confidence was all it took, just sheer brass. Since when was confidence a problem with him? Smothering a laugh at himself, he peeped around the doorframe, caught a glimpse of a female silhouette, and grinned.
"Fair lady," he sang, coming through the door with a sunny smile. "Sorry to burst in on you like this! Can you find it in your heart to take pity on this poor, hungry sailor?"
Content: Zidane, as ordered, goes mooching for food. Giselle, staunch defender of the galley, will brook no nonsense from this sneaky little--oh, who are we kidding?
Setting: The galley of the Winding Way
Time: BACKDATED, just after Giselle's return to the Way
Warnings: Deliciousness?
Hunger is the best sauce. So they supposedly said in the houses of the high and mighty, and Zidane did remember what food he could get his hands on tasting pretty marvelous in the early days of his grubbing childhood.
He hadn't, however, gone consistently hungry in years. Baku was good to his boys, and Tantalus had been successful beyond the old man's wildest dreams. Consequently the old clock tower's makeshift pantry had always stayed well-stocked...
Well. After years of meals at the rambunctious, grabbing, hand-slapping, shouting, laughing table of his foster family, and only finagling the occasional late-night snack, Zidane was a little out of practice at wheedling for his supper.
He'd been getting up to speed all right, taking tips from the other powder monkeys and cabin boys on which cooks were likeliest to dish things up the quickest with the least fuss, and dropping through the galley when his stomach rumbled. But he wasn't yet over the vague uneasy feeling that he was five years old again and about to get his tail dusted with the business end of a wooden spoon by some angry housewife.
Pausing at the door to the galley, Zidane dusted down his shirtfront and squared his shoulders. Confidence was all it took, just sheer brass. Since when was confidence a problem with him? Smothering a laugh at himself, he peeped around the doorframe, caught a glimpse of a female silhouette, and grinned.
"Fair lady," he sang, coming through the door with a sunny smile. "Sorry to burst in on you like this! Can you find it in your heart to take pity on this poor, hungry sailor?"