[ Open ] || Kitchen Caper...! Not.
Characters: Ensign Garfield Tabbis (justundertall) & OPEN to all members of the Victoria II.
Content: Lulz and hijinks as Garfield gets himself caught in the kitchens. Hilarity is sure to ensue.
Setting: In the Victoria II's kitchens where everything lulzy happens, it seems.
Time: Nightfall, while the ship is still en route to Clairborne.
Warnings: Garfield-level snarking and loads of lulz? IDK, really.
Well, it wasn't as if he could help it, really. After all the fiasco with the bombs and whatnot, it was only natural that one would get hungry. It was a miracle alone that he managed to last this long, really; with the rate that his stomach was growling, Garfield was sure that he would have collapsed of hunger and exhaustion in about another hour or so.
After waiting for what seemed like forever, night had finally fallen and ensuring that the last of the cabin boys lurking around the area he was in had left to retire for bed, the feline slunk out of the corner he'd been hiding in, journal placed safely at the side. No matter where he was the kitchens were all too easy to find, given that he'd been born and raised in one, and soon enough he was at the familiar sights of the warm, cozy kitchen; with of course, food beckoning to his call.
Garfield grinned to himself as he rubbed his paws excitedly. Finally, a chance to fill up his rumbling tummy after the hours toiled and the whole thing earlier. Without further ado, the cat leapt up gracefully to the kitchen counters, eyes sparkling as he set his sights on the leftovers that lined up the surface and taking out the covers that protected them from whatever flies that may be, indulged himself in a well deserved meal in his usual manner of eating: head held up high and paws scrabbling for whatever morsel of food he could lay on before tossing it into his widely open mouth.
Ah, this was the life indeed.
Content: Lulz and hijinks as Garfield gets himself caught in the kitchens. Hilarity is sure to ensue.
Setting: In the Victoria II's kitchens where everything lulzy happens, it seems.
Time: Nightfall, while the ship is still en route to Clairborne.
Warnings: Garfield-level snarking and loads of lulz? IDK, really.
Well, it wasn't as if he could help it, really. After all the fiasco with the bombs and whatnot, it was only natural that one would get hungry. It was a miracle alone that he managed to last this long, really; with the rate that his stomach was growling, Garfield was sure that he would have collapsed of hunger and exhaustion in about another hour or so.
After waiting for what seemed like forever, night had finally fallen and ensuring that the last of the cabin boys lurking around the area he was in had left to retire for bed, the feline slunk out of the corner he'd been hiding in, journal placed safely at the side. No matter where he was the kitchens were all too easy to find, given that he'd been born and raised in one, and soon enough he was at the familiar sights of the warm, cozy kitchen; with of course, food beckoning to his call.
Garfield grinned to himself as he rubbed his paws excitedly. Finally, a chance to fill up his rumbling tummy after the hours toiled and the whole thing earlier. Without further ado, the cat leapt up gracefully to the kitchen counters, eyes sparkling as he set his sights on the leftovers that lined up the surface and taking out the covers that protected them from whatever flies that may be, indulged himself in a well deserved meal in his usual manner of eating: head held up high and paws scrabbling for whatever morsel of food he could lay on before tossing it into his widely open mouth.
Ah, this was the life indeed.