Moments ago, after the room was swept, Felix went into the bathroom with a disgruntled expression and then took out his frustrations on an innocent roll, of toilet paper.
After a great and noisy struggle the door opened and the victor pranced out on all fours with the tattered remains in his mouth, spreading debris as he marched forwards joyously, partials of tissue paper floated in his wake and hung about his form.
He soon found himself bumping into Frost, shuddered roll in mouth, he craned his head up, looked at Frost, then glanced at the ruined object in his mouth, glanced back to frost Froest with widened eyes and rising hair, then back down at the piece of newly made trashed, repeated the process once or twice more, then looked to the kitchen, calmed down, shrugged and gave a halfhearted mer as he headed to the suite’s kitchen, pawed open the cabinet below the sink, deposited the kill in the trash can, gingerly kicked the door closed, and then started to peak though the rest of the kitchen in like manner; he basically hugged the drawers with his front paws and then leaned back to open them: it was rather clear he was fairly adept at manipulating things without proper hands.
Afterwards he pranced over to one of the room’s desks, hopped on top of it as more of the tissue paper fell of his coat, and then quickly made use of the provided pen and notepad after briefly humbling to get the cap of the pen off, maneuvered the pen into his mouth and then started writing swiftly; the writing was very mechanical in appearance, always strait with an absence of any kind of curve even when a letter called for it.
The Notepad read:
Latex gloves, small or smaller. Powdered!
Milk, whole
2 sticks of buttered, unsalted
Posta noodles, Fettuccine
...
The shopping list went on listing versus ingredients, spices, and even a few coking items. Some items, like “Chicken breasts, 2 pounds or more” were written with distinctively more care than other items, such as “Salt and Pepper” that seemed to be more of an afterthought.
After forming the list he would, assuming Frost fallowed him, draw Frost’s attention to it by pawing at it and nuging it towards him, if not he would pick it up in his mouth and then drop it in front of Frost and do the same, meowing as necessary.
Afterwards he would head back to the bathroom, where he had left his thing, get into his backpack, unravel one of the roles gingerly remove three hundred dolor bills, enough that he figured it would be more ample to pay for everything on the list.
he dropped the bills and then pranced over to look at the kitchen again. He could not help but let a pleased throbbing purr out of his thought as he breathed, he was finally freed from ordering room service and takeout every meal, they had a kitchen!
OoC: what, did you guys forget he can cook? :3
After a great and noisy struggle the door opened and the victor pranced out on all fours with the tattered remains in his mouth, spreading debris as he marched forwards joyously, partials of tissue paper floated in his wake and hung about his form.
He soon found himself bumping into Frost, shuddered roll in mouth, he craned his head up, looked at Frost, then glanced at the ruined object in his mouth, glanced back to frost Froest with widened eyes and rising hair, then back down at the piece of newly made trashed, repeated the process once or twice more, then looked to the kitchen, calmed down, shrugged and gave a halfhearted mer as he headed to the suite’s kitchen, pawed open the cabinet below the sink, deposited the kill in the trash can, gingerly kicked the door closed, and then started to peak though the rest of the kitchen in like manner; he basically hugged the drawers with his front paws and then leaned back to open them: it was rather clear he was fairly adept at manipulating things without proper hands.
Afterwards he pranced over to one of the room’s desks, hopped on top of it as more of the tissue paper fell of his coat, and then quickly made use of the provided pen and notepad after briefly humbling to get the cap of the pen off, maneuvered the pen into his mouth and then started writing swiftly; the writing was very mechanical in appearance, always strait with an absence of any kind of curve even when a letter called for it.
The Notepad read:
Latex gloves, small or smaller. Powdered!
Milk, whole
2 sticks of buttered, unsalted
Posta noodles, Fettuccine
...
The shopping list went on listing versus ingredients, spices, and even a few coking items. Some items, like “Chicken breasts, 2 pounds or more” were written with distinctively more care than other items, such as “Salt and Pepper” that seemed to be more of an afterthought.
After forming the list he would, assuming Frost fallowed him, draw Frost’s attention to it by pawing at it and nuging it towards him, if not he would pick it up in his mouth and then drop it in front of Frost and do the same, meowing as necessary.
Afterwards he would head back to the bathroom, where he had left his thing, get into his backpack, unravel one of the roles gingerly remove three hundred dolor bills, enough that he figured it would be more ample to pay for everything on the list.
he dropped the bills and then pranced over to look at the kitchen again. He could not help but let a pleased throbbing purr out of his thought as he breathed, he was finally freed from ordering room service and takeout every meal, they had a kitchen!
OoC: what, did you guys forget he can cook? :3
