Drunk Elephants

December 4, 2014: After meeting with Raven, Keith goes to Gar's dorm to find him drunk in the wake of grading papers.

Gar's ESU Dorm

It's tiny



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Mood Music:
Elephants on Parade

So, when all the grades were turned in, the various profs and grad students in the department, Gar Logan included, had a celebratory tipple or four, and several of them toppled. Gar wobbled back to his dorm room, to clean up before heading for the Castle. Or maybe to sleep it off.

Now, usually, Gar doesn't get hung over. He does three things to prevent this. First, he drinks a lot of water, second he doesn't drink a lot of alcohol, and third, he turns into something that can burn off the booze. There wasn't enough water, they kept trying new things, and he hasn't remembered that third bit yet. So he's feeling the nastiness, as being inebriated is unpleasant once the buzz wears off.

"Why. Why Mr. Daniels, Why did you turn against me? Was it that I mixed you with beer? It was not that much beer."

He's standing on top of his desk, in human form. Not a bird or whatever he was thinking of. Nor is he a flying squirrel as being a squirrel is far too nutty for him at the moment.


Vorpal walks into the room, accompanied by the smell of food… and the promise of hydration. He's wearing a topcoat over his fur, which probably means the weather has gotten nasty outside.

As he shuts the door behind him, an amused smirk appears on his face. "My love, is there a particular reason you're doing an Oh Captain My Captain in your dorm room? You didn't drink nearly enough to get Delirium Tremens…"


"Huh? I can't be Captain, I'm wearing a red shirt," Gar says. "Why am I still drunk and not happy? Wasn't it the point to be happy? Or at least to kill the brain cells that had anything to do with grading tests?"

He sniffs the air. "I smell food. I will be your friend forever if you got some for me too."


Vorpal smirks, setting the food platter down on the bed. "Best omelet in town," he says, "Just for you. And some water to hydrate yourself…" the Cheshire walks over to the desk and raises an eyebrow, grinning.

"Silly elf, don't you know that the only way to forget about grading tests is to take two Vorpals every hour, as need arises?"

He reaches up to grab a hold of Gar's hips so he doesn't fall over. Technically speaking, he shouldn't try to pick Gar up because of his injury…

Except that Raven took care of that. But the cat hasn't mentioned that yet. Surprises, after all. "D'ya want me to climb up there to give you your food? I didn't bring my hiking equipment."


The green man called Logan peers down at the person who has grabbed him, not at the expected knees.

"Wait, you can't raise your arm that high. You weren't limping either. Are you really Vorpal?"

He turns into a snake so he can wrap up this alleged Vorpal, lest he be a dirty imposter. Besides he can taste him with his tongue to make sure.


"Wait, you're drunk!" The cheshire blinks as he is snaked. "What gives you the idea you can be observant and drunk?" He looks at the snake and … "Wait. You're a snake. You can't hear me, can you?"

One hand comes up to pet the snake, as he waits for an answer. He knows snakes don't hear, proper, but they can sense vibrations… but he's never been a snake, so he doesn't know just how much of speech they can process.

Then again, Gar could just grow ears… because he's Gar.


Or he could hear by the vibrations on his chin. He unsnakes though, giggling a bit.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to pay attention to everythring under all circumstations, right? Robin could do that."

Well, Original Robin claimed he could, so Gar had to compete in secret of course.

The smell of food immediately gets Vorpal a hug and then he starts sniffing for the omelet. Yes, like in that cartoon that Gar did a voice for, where they shamelessly stole the gag from a Dexter's Laboratory episode.

"Omelette … du Fromage?" he says in a squeaky, childlike voice.


"And champignons, with a side veggies." Vorpal chuckles. He hasn't removed his overcoat. "And I brought you some fruit as well, it's in the baggie. But first…" He takes a bottle out of his coat pocket and thrusts it in Gar's direction. "Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate, and then food. And then maybe something else for the palate," he says enigmatically. One hand reaches out to stroke Gar's hair, making sure his temperature's fine as well.

"And the red and white uniform?" He says, looking at what his boyfriend is wearing, the 'red shirt' indeed. "Did you run out of laundry again? I can take care of that." It's amusing how domestic Vorpal can get. Perhaps it is the thought of having a home and somewhere to belong… and someone with whom to belong, that brings out the nurturing side.


"Water, yummy nasty water that fish fu… you know. In it." Gar chugs the first bottle, and belches. Classy.

He touches the red shirt. "Hey, this is one of my favorites. I have ten of them left. Half of 'em are holy so I can't use 'em in public."

He has a clammy forehead, but not fevered, and his hair is wet. Apparently he was getting dressed after a shower when he had to climb Mount Desk.

"Can I have omelet now?"


"I'm not complaining. I always thought those colors looked great on you," A purple hand caresses Gar's chest for a moment, secretly the old uniform was his favorite. He leans forward and places a quick kiss on Gar's lips before pulling out the desk chair. "Sit down and I'll give you your omelet, try the grey stuff, it's delicious. Don't believe me? Ask the dishes."

In a few seconds Vorpal has the omelet on a proper plate, and proper cutlery (well, plastic, anyways, but it is close enough) and sets it in front of Gar at the desk. He locates the towel Gar must have used and will proceed to dry his hair lightly with it as he eats. "Heh, well, fish do do it in it. Then again, I eat eggs, too, so I'm obviously not going to freak out…"


Proper plate and even plasticware (though not silvery). That means Gar has to eat like a human. OK, that's a challenge, but one he'll accept. So he gets out his Dining With The Folks manners, which he put somewhere on the shelf next to Sobriety and Decorum, and he starts eating very carefully. But that doesn't last very long. Because it's so good. So very (NOMF!) OK. Now there are two wolverines named Logan in the NYC area.

Sadly, wolverines are no better than Beast Boys at quickly metabolizing alcohol, despite the abilities of that one bipedal wolverine.


Vorpal smirks, watching the proceedings and sitting down on the bed. At this point he begins to undo the belt of the coat. "Hey, hey, take it easy or you'll choke, mister Logan," he gives the Wolverine a look. " 'sides, you'll miss the nuance and savoir faire the chef put into the omelet. At the prices they charge, you'd better taste some savoir here and there, and maybe a little bit of faire." He smirks kicking off his shoes and standing up again, unbuttoning the coat deliberately slow.


Aforementioned wolverine says, "Ren faire, maybe. I can taste the epices anciennes du Normandy, here."

This does not stop him finishing off the omelet, and despite appearances, tasting the entire thing. Yummy.

He turns and sees the undressing and goes to help. Time to be a ferrit. Yeah. BURROW TIME.



Flailing time, ferrets are incredibly ticklish creatures.

Okay, they cause tickling in others. And that is the case currently with the Cheshirem, who is trying to get out of the coat before he has an excess of laughter and he has to rush to the bathroom or something. He misses the last two buttons, simply popping them out (and tearing one off) jumping out of his coat onto the bed. "You… you!" he says, still trying to stop laughing.

He's not wearing his usual chucks. Rather, he's wearing very little— a pair of tight black shorts with yellow and orange piping, and a 'V' cut down the front. "…Garfield?" he asks, looking at the pile of coat on the floor. "… are you there?"

He could be anywhere. Ready to pounce. Ready to attack!


Some sort of squeaky weasellish "hubba hubba" may have come from behind and to the left of the frantic feline. A distinctly not-weaselish "RaWR" comes from behind and to the right. A green ostrich head peers from behind and nudges up one of the purple-furred arms so it can move around on that long ostrich neck to scope out the front of the outfit.

"Nice, is that for me?"


Vorpal laughs and shakes his head. "You are incorrigible, Garfield Mark Logan…" he mutters, and leans back on his elbows. "Yes… as it happens, this is for you. My new uniform. What do you think? Is it enough to sober you up?" the cat asks with a raised eyebrow.


"Is that what I'm supposed to do? I can't do that in here, it's too small to be an elephant."

Gar-human is now wrapped around Vorpal, grinning goofily.

"That's a very nice present. I can't wait to unwrap it," Gar says sleepily, which he punctuates by yawning.


Vorpal smiles, his arms moving to warp around Gar, stroking his hair. "We can wait until the morning to do so. You can rest your head on my lap and sleep the rest of the booze off," the cat says, "For the rest of the night, I'll be making sure you take care of yourself enough not to hate yourself in the morning." He leans forward and rests his cheek against Gar's, "Raven healed me, so you don't need to worry about me. All you have to do is listen to your boyfriend and let him spoil you for the rest of the night." His fingers move up to Gar's temples and begins to massage them gently as he gives him a little kiss.

"Sounds to your liking?"


"Sure. Raven sure was nice to do that," Gar says agreeably. "Can we have a nap now?"

He snuggles into that lap.

"I have the best boyfriend, he lets me keep him awake all night."

Fingers massaging provide more impetus to the sprawled-out green guy.


Vorpal smiles down at Gar, one hand moving to stroke his cheek. "You still need to sleep, goober. Otherwise you'll be half-dead in the morning and you won't get to unwrap your present. So yes, naptime for you."

He seems thoughtful for a moment, and then adds, "I'm the lucky one here, my dear green boy. I feel like a stray cat who's gotten rescued off the streets by a handsome prince." Mixing stories, but whatever.

"Raven said something to me about the two of you," he says. Because it's something that did stick with him. "She said that her feelings for you are completely platonic-"

It's not hard to read him, this being Keith. He does wonder what would have happened were it not so. Would Garfield have chosen her? They did have history…

~That doesn't really matter, though, does it? That's an 'if', but that 'if' never happened. And he's with me.~

He smiles, bending over to kiss Gar's forehead (he's a cat, he's that flexible) and says, "… just silly thinking. I love you. Sleep."


"OK, I'll do that. Mind if I lion around? It's a little chilly."

Gar turns into a puma as he falls asleep, purring.

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