Hiding in Crates is Legit

[egyptiangoddess]

Jump over that puddle. Quick, dart around that old lady. Good, good, now dodge that - awww such a cute kitty cat~ Wait... what was he doing? Ah, right. Running. Running is more important than a cute fuzzy kitten right now. Even if it did meow just so -

"GET HIM!"

Feliciano squealed in fear and dropped the kitten he'd picked up, legs moving at top speed as he darted down the street. Away from the crazy men chasing him with anger in their eyes and red faces. Honestly, he hadn't known the girl he stopped to flirt with was engaged to someone higher up, and he hadn't meant to cause any harm. Really, what was wrong with the world when stopping to ogle compliment a young lady was counted as a crime? Well, by family at least.

He spotted a sharp corner up ahead and slowed slightly to make the turn. Edge cleared he gunned it down the narrow pathway, knocking down a few crates in his rush. By the even more angered shouting behind him the young chef figured his blunder had caused a few problems for his pursuers. Hopefully enough to slow them down so he could hide.

But where could he hide?

Another corner was cleared and Feliciano spotted the docks. If he could have stopped he might have just danced in glee. If the crates hadn't been enough maybe the afternoon crowd milling around the docks could work to his advantage. He was slim enough to squeeze between people rather easily and those chasing him had much, much larger builds.

Still, hiding and waiting it out would be the best option since he didn't have the stamina to keep running all day long. He paused to catch his breath and look around.

'There!' Feliciano locked eyes on his target - a crate more than big enough to fit himself and whatever else was inside. Nothing too icky he hoped. The shouting from behind was back and the Italian was on the move again, ducking and weaving as fast as he could towards the crate, not noticing as the others beside it were being lifted into the sleek looking ship anchored there, the words The Grim emblazoned on the side.

With a badly timed leap Feliciano landed in the crate of, yipping like a kicked dog when his foot caught the lip of the crate and he ended up smashing his face into a sack of flour. Groaning, he reached up and scrambled to pull the lid over him, waiting in the dark as the shouting men passed by... twice.

"M-maybe I'll wait in here. Just to be safe..." He finished with a yawn, rubbing his eyes. The flour sack turned into a pillow and the sleepy Italian quickly fell asleep.

And what would you know? 3 o'clock on the dot.

[Arthur Kirkland]

With most of his crew off gallivanting about on the shore and in town and nothing better to do, Arthur decided to supervise the many different crates of supplies being lifted up onto his ship. It was a lot of supplies this time - they'd gotten into a rather large fight and was low on ammo, food and medical supplies. But the haul had been good and paid for the supplies and more.

Breaking off one of the lids, he peered inside and checked off on the clipboard in his hands that they'd received the large quantity of bullets they needed. Wandering over to the next crate as it hit the deck, he pulled off the lid with a crow bar-

-only to find a man sleeping on what he assumed was a crateful of flour sacks. Raising an eyebrow, he reached in and poked the man on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but I think you found the wrong place to take a nap, mate."

[egyptiangoddess]

Feliciano snuggled further into the sack he deemed his pillow, trying to ignore the sound of the lid being pried off. With the light streaming over his face came the memories from before his nap - flirting, running, hiding in this crate. This crate that was now opened, that had been next to a ship on the docks. His breathe hitched, body shrinking when he was poked, attempting to curl into himself and disappear. Something that obviously wasn't going to work.

Swallowing around the knot in his throat he let one eye open partway. His breath caught in fear. Scary looking man. Scary looking man with enormous eyebrows and an aura that just screamed 'scary man don't mess with'. In what seemed like an instant he was out of the crate, kneeling on the deck with his arms waving everywhere.

"P-please don't hurt me! I didn't mean to fall asleep in your box, I swear-" Feliciano wondered if his punishment for being caught on someone's ship without permission would be worse than what that girl's family would have done. His eyes welled with tears at the thought of going to prison, or anything worse than a yelling. "I'll leave right now and never bug you again and oh please don't hurt me, Sir."

[Arthur Kirkland]

Jumping back a bit, Arthur was rather startled by the man's jumping out of the crate and collapsing on the ground in tears. He wasn't quite sure what he should do - should he kick him off forcefully? Yell at him? Give him a cup of tea? - but an oddly distinct feeling of guilt was coming over him. He wasn't sure why it was guilt - after all, the man was caught sleeping in one of his crates, but just... seeing the other in tears made him feel as if it were all his own fault.

"Ah - just. Wait. Please calm down!" Arthur yelped, kneeling down beside the brown-haired man and offering him a handkerchief. "We can talk this over - please just stop crying!" Making up his mind, he offered, "How bout a nice cup of tea?"

[egyptiangoddess]

The crying slowed to sniffles and little gasps, the young man wiping his eyes with the carefully (fearfully?) taken handkerchief. The man was being... nice? To a technical stowaway (even though the ship hadn't even left port yet)? "Y-you're not gonna hurt me?", the blubbering frown turned into a bright smile and he threw himself gratefully at the other, kissing both cheeks and hugging him tight.

"Grazie, signore! You don't know how much this mean to me." Feliciano stood up, brushing himself off excitedly - And then came the rapid fire talking and accompanied hand waving that most Italians seemed to do when very excited. "You don't happen to have cafe instead do you? If not I don't mind, tea is nice too. With sugar of course. Oh! My name is Feliciano by the way, Feliciano Vargas. What's yours? What's the way to your kitchen? I can make you something yummy for sparing me, food is the best after all~. I'm a good chef, my boss says so. Ah, do you need help up?" He finally stopped, hand held out, smiling as if he'd expected the man to understand everything that had just been rapidly spoken.

[Arthur Kirkland]

Arthur didn't hear the chatter as any more than a buzz in the background as his mind blanked out from sheer surprise and shock. Did... did he just get kissed on the cheeks? By a complete stranger? Face bright red, the embarrassed captain took the hand up without question, trying to regain his composure. "I... I'm sorry - what did you say?"

Getting a good look at the man he'd discovered, he guessed from his looks that he was from somewhere around the Mediterranean, with the tanned skin and brown hair. Even though he couldn't quite recognize the accent from the fast chatter, there were more than hints that his suspicions were true. Other than that, the man didn't have too many distinctive features - a long strand of hair sticking out from the side of his head and his emotions going rollercoaster were about all that set him apart from one of the many faceless people who wandered the ports.

And yet... something felt oddly familiar about this man. Something reminded him of... an iron cross? Frowning faintly to himself, Arthur wondered where that thought came from because from what he could see, the shorter man wasn't wearing anything iron on him. "You'll have to speak a bit slower - I apologize, but I'm having a bit of trouble with your accent."