storywalks | she's a work in progress

[Hm... Homeless after a failed restaurant opening, then... Or a traveling taco truck. Very far traveling.]

I've gotten pretty confident -- in that myself. Lately.

[At least in regards to their newfound good friend The Car. Other cars might still suck. The fact that they never moved anymore so they didn't make her sick when she was trying to read was a point in their favor now. ...Or another point in the apocalypse's favor.]

Oh -- or an RV. [To continue the theorizing she'd previously only been doing in her head. If he had a mobile home, that's got a kitchen!] Um. Did you want to try? Being in the kitchen here? Or -- since there's nothing to cook, I don't -- know...

Who would've thought... what a good skill... it would be...?

[He doesn't actually miss it, all the cars moving about. He sees the remains of old wrecks like the remains of people. He doesn't think he's slept in a car more than one or twice since he woke up like this.

He hums at the thought of an RV, not sure there but not against the idea either.]

I'm not sure... I want to... but... I don't want... to waste... or... contaminate... [He frowns.] Maybe... cooking gloves... camping tools...

[get ready for a BIG EYEROLL, TEO.]

It's been -- sitting there. Not used. Not cleaned. Might not even work. The food is -- mostly gone bad. [She abandons his hand so that she can poke his shoulder a few times instead, trying to annoy him into listening to her whims.] Come on. Get -- me back on my feet again, we're going.

[Because he wants to!!! And that's reason enough even if the kitchen was stocked and ready.]

[He sees her BIG EYEROLL and raises in turn SMALL POUT. The effect is ruined by having only half a mouth.

She pokes at him and, with his sleeve-covered hand, he goes and gently waps her right back. Take that!!! Though, he has to admit, she has a point.

With huff, he rises up, pulls the sleeves over both his hands, then offers them out to her. Up! She goes! And off to that biohazard of a kitchen.]

[She splutters the littlest of laughs at his counter and her smugness is only ruined by the wince of pain as her sore muscles are stretched. No good deed goes unpunished...! Ryder rolls her neck and shoulders in an attempt to ease the feeling, but all it does for the time being is leave her with a grimace. Onto happier things, then. She hums as if that's enough to say "Let's go!", dips to pick up her handaxe, one of the packs of matches, and the apron with another soft hiss, then pushes their door open. She tosses the last item back over to him. It's their own little world, fulfilling for her even though she knows underneath her fun that there's no one else here but corpses and animals trying to survive.]

It is too bad... Homecooked meal would be -- heaven.

[That laugh brings a very real danger of making him smile again! But the wince helps to temper that so he looks worried instead, at least until she's humming and moving along. He shakes his head and he follows, blinking at the apron that's thrown back at him. It feels familiar. It feels nice. So, he throws it over his head to wear, tying it around the back.]

I guess that's... the trouble... with old-fashioned... cooking... the light and noise... draws the dead... But... if I can learn... outdoor cooking... could make up... some camp food... Maybe...

[It'll still require finding fresh food. That's tricky. Both for her to find and for him to control himself when he catches things.]

That or... we get a generator... some means of... electricity... Miss electricity...

Edited 2021-12-05 22:15 (UTC)

[Huh. He looks...nice in an apron. That's unexpected, considering that it goes against his whole punk aesthetic and there's nothing overly astounding about an apron -- not to mention again that whole thing about appreciating someone's looks in a real way. Weird. But no matter how weird, it was still true: Teo looks nice in an apron. Maybe it was because it was something that was natural to him and made him feel more like himself, or the person he once was. She doesn't know. She supposes it doesn't matter, when none of it exactly mattered in the first place.]

Mm. That's -- really useful. You'll know what we can get away with. [And for outdoor cooking... They'd need to head into a suburb, right? That was all perfect cookie cutter families that grilled every Sunday and had a lovely week of camping during the summer. That's how she pictures it, anyway. It's nothing like her idea of a generator, which is bizarrely connected almost exclusively to the idea of zombies in her head. Oh, video games...] Aren't generators noisy -- too? The only place I can -- think that would have one is a hospital...

[So: great for him, but getting her safely around it would be a lot of work. What does a generator even look like? Maybe they could look in the basement here.]

Electricity really would -- be nice. We need it. Um, in our future hotel. [Since they're dreaming.]

[He opens his mouth, closes it, then tilts his head.]

I'm not... sure... haven't run one... [That he can remember, of course.] Definitely... something to test... first... Might be... the sort of noise... the dead ignore... if it's... consistent enough...

[Before he brings it here and a whole damn horde. That's what he wants. To have to hide her away while he goes killing the dead. What a fun way to spend a week.]

But if we get... electricity back... we can have fridges... ovens... microwaves... We could have... heating... fans... could have... a light at night...

[Much as the idea of a butler appeals to her conceptually, in practice she's pretty bad at it -- at least when her butler is Teo, who shouldn't have to do half the things he offers, plus all the stuff he doesn't offer and just does on his own. She wouldn't do well hidden away and worrying, even if she knows by now how well he can handle himself, especially with the undead. It's a good thing she's not hearing his mental griping and instead thinking that it's fascinating that there's something that could be nothing more that background noise, even for them. It makes sense, she supposes. Just wouldn't have thought about it on her own.]

They have a light on them -- in games. Um. But blankets can fix that.

[It would be some time before they had to worry about that, anyway. Stretching an arm across herself -- weird with an axe -- Ryder peeks over through the curtain of her bangs and makes a tiny noise in thought.]

I -- found a flashlight. And some batteries. And I bet -- candles. If we really want a light at night. ...No solution for -- fridge.

[In games. He suspects others would joke, but, it's not as if anyone had actually anticipated this sort of world happening outside of games and the occasional horror show.]

Blankets... or... break the light...

[There's not much reason to use flashlights or candles these days. At least not any safe reason. But there is one.]

Can read books... into the night... [And that's as good a reason as any.]

I guess... we'd need to... work on having... things to even...preserve... Fruits... Vegetables... Shame about... no dairy... and then... if you learn to... catch things... you'd have to... prepare it...

[He glances at her uncertainly, not sure if she can stomach such a thing.]

[Ryder learned the world through media, mostly. It's worked out so far.]

The only things I know about growing stuff -- also comes from video games. Stardew -- Valley. Harvest Moon.

[But maybe the seasonality will help, if they manage to find anything. Do seeds go bad? It just got buried right away to grow again, but they'd get killed off eventually... She'd have to be careful even before they were growing!!! Babies are tough even when they're plants.

The animals, uh... Video game shit would be less helpful with all of that.]

R-right... You'd just eat it, huh... [No delicate way to go about that. If it stopped looking like an animal, it'd be easier! But unfortunately she's the one that would have to make that possible unless Teo got a miraculous level of self-control soon.] I thought about -- raising chickens. Well -- first I thought rabbits, maybe. They -- well, you know. Multiply. But, um, eggs seemed. Easier.

Probably more... than I know...

[He's willing to admit that. He can't remember a thing about gardening, which is a shame, because he thinks that, if he truly was a chef, he would've liked using the freshest ingredients possible. Straight from a garden sounds like it'd be amazing.

Unfortunately, his new diet consists of straight from the bones instead. He grimaces as she comes to the correct conclusion and nods. He's glad that she understands and he doesn't have to explain that more. Self-control with people is tough enough.]

Oh... that's a good idea... don't have to... do much butchering... just have eggs... probably more than... could even be used... But where to... find a chicken...

[When they have their little farm hotel home, Teo deserves a gardening outfit. A cute apron, nice boots to cover in dirt, gardening gloves for physical and mental comfort both, a cute straw hat. Ryder can wear a bandana in her hair and have cargo pants to hold all their tools. Cooler boots than Teo.]

Yeah. Only when -- the birds get too old. For eggs. [Too many eggs isn't a bad problem, either. Whether they invited people to rest for a while or not, it would make good trading or even bait for other critters. Foxes eat eggs, she thinks.] We have to make a -- shopping list. What to look for as we head south.

[She lightly jogs to get a few more steps ahead and push open the door to the kitchen area, large and cluttered despite how empty it is. After you, good sir.]

But -- seriously. Don't open the freezer.

[They sure are looking snazzy in her dreams. Two punks taking to the softer life. Which, they are attempting in as much as they can, given the state of the world and everyone else in it.

On the other hand, he can't help pondering eating the potential chickens they speak of. How long does it take for them to get old? He's not sure.]

A shopping list... sounds so normal... [It makes him smile.

He steps into the kitchen, but not without giving her and the freezer a raised brow.]

...That bad...?

[He is a corpse, after all. And he's seen lots of other corpses. But, he'll take her word and take a look around the kitchen.

It's seen better days, but most things have. He checks the cupboards, knowing there won't be much for food but finding himself pleased to see there are spices left behind. Garlic powder, onion powder, chilli powder, salt, pepper. He opens another for dry goods and finds lentils. He grins.]

Can of... tomato paste... could make you... vegetarian sloppy joe...

[Hardly high cuisine, but still. He moves on, finding a pan and bringing it to a less-than-tidy stove. He holds it there, closing his eyes, imagining the sizzle and pop, the bustle and chatter just beyond, a faint ding...]

[As serious as some of their conversations have been, there has never been a moment before that Ryder has looked so intensely at Teo.]

Open it and -- we're not friends.

[That smell is going to haunt her for years, and also he doesn't need to see the puddle of barf from earlier. Her threat disappears from possibility as he takes stock of things and offers up mana from heaven.]

What? Really? Is that -- No, you're being hypothetical, right? [Could...could he really, actually make her that for real... Would he? Even if it wasn't warm, that would be so much more. Oh, shit, is she ruining his moment... He's doing some reminiscing, isn't he? That was the whole point of doing this, and she's getting all worked up and interrupting him.] ...You look nice. Like you -- belong.

[That first comment makes him cough his way through a laugh. All through her questions, his grin remains. He hears her, even in his daydreaming. He's not ready to open his eyes though, not ready to--

Fingers graze his skin, brushing over his cheek, pushing back the longer strands behind his ear. He sees a small, slight smile and he's not sure what to make of it.

--Wake. He blinks.]

I... do I...?

[He glances down at himself, then at the rest of the worn down kitchen. He laughs ruefully.]

Guess I do... [He smiles at her.] Help me find... tomato paste... can opener... something clean... utensil or gloves...

Edited 2021-12-07 00:39 (UTC)

[aaaaaaaaaa]

Yes, chef!

[Her mom watched those shows. It really is fun to say.

Ryder's plan, honestly, had been to hop on a counter and watch him settle in to try and remember the man he once was. Maybe prompt him with a question here or there. Now she's barely feeling the ache she'd brought onto herself, jogging lightly across the kitchen so she can get to searching. Tomato paste, tomato paste!! That was the most important part of his instructions, no matter what he believed to the contrary. She'd already searched for gloves earlier, thinking about teeth, but she'll redouble her efforts for this.]

What even is tomato paste... Paste made out of tomato, obviously. Hell, I took all the knives away...

[They were up in their room so she can't use those to open up any cans. She'll figure something out, if she can't find a can opener in any of these drawers. Oh shit, there's some more knives, actually? And some other shit. Woah, a pizza cutter. Imagine trying to fight off a zombie with that. Yeesh. Very unpleasant.]

Here's -- um, the spoon with the --

[She makes an oval with her hands, which does absolutely nothing to illuminate what she means, but luckily she can also just set it down on the counter near him a minute later. Disappearing into the pantry, now, and right back to talking to herself.]

Probably wouldn't let me use the axe. That'd be gross anyway. It's been in heads, it doesn't need to do the same thing to a can. Oh, you're red -- fucking what? Why is baby corn in a red can? That doesn't make any fucking -- hey, Teo! Is baby corn a bad idea? Like the little guys. I don't know how cooking works.

[...Eventually he'll get approximately what was on his list, as well as whatever else they deemed potentially useful.]

[Oh, now he's grinning terribly wide. It's enough to make his torn face look normal.

He listens to her babbling, torn between wanting to respond and wanting to revel in it. The way it just flows out still brings such joy. He looks too, though with less fervency. His hunger is not going to be sated with tomato paste. He can take his time to balance her frantic searching.

Eventually though, he's too caught up with her to do anything but watch and smile. And laugh.]

Baby corn... is fine... should be safe... Best for... Asian dishes... stirfry... peanut sauce... making... crispy...

[With everything gathered, and a bowl to mix things, it shouldn't take long. No real cooking involved, given the lack of fire or appliances, but still. He's careful with the spoon, making sure not to let his hands go near the actual food. It really, really looks lackluster, and he'd be sorry to give this to anyone, if it weren't the apocalypse. He's still a little sorry in truth.

The bowl is presented to her.]

It would be... better if... we could actually cook... but...

[Simple as it is and as much as it isn't technically being cooked, Ryder watches him work with such rapt attention and wonder it's as if he's doing magic. For someone that largely lived out of a microwave, it basically is. There are people out there that really use those spices! Wow! She knows one! Even more wow!!]

Are you kidding? This -- is amazing! [He made it special for her! In the dang apocalypse! She can't get over the fact that real fucking spices happened today!

She has her own spoon that's smaller and that she thinks is supposed to be for soup if you were some kind of asshole that believed in the law of silverware. Ryder's dipped it into the concoction before she reaches to support the bowl, then quickly shoves it into her mouth to shush to her hungry stomach. Angels sing. She hears applause. She's pretty sure she made some kind of embarrassing noise in her delight.]

Oh my god, Teo. You can fucking cook! [Damn!!!] Hold on -- I know it doesn't -- make you not hungry, but can you taste things? You need to -- try it!

[It's the best thing since forever! Also despite her insistence, she's too busy making her way through more spoonfuls to force one onto him immediately.]

[She lights up like a kid at Christmas. He guesses, in a way, it is kind of the same. What more does anyone want these days but the old luxuries of good food fulfilled? She eats ravenously, but it's still not like the way he would. She is all human, silliness, noises, smiles, and enthusiasm. He half anticipates she'll start bouncing about. It's all deeply charming.

Her standards are low. He knows any praise isn't a true indication of ability. Apocalypse, minus 15 points. Regular diet of noodle cups, minus 10 points. Building him up because they're friends, minus 5 points. Still, he smiles sheepishly, pleased too.

Until the question comes and he falters.]

I... [He tries to recover.] It's okay... You need it... I wouldn't appreciate... near as much...

[Wow, Teo, you dare attack her mood with intent to kill? She leaves her spoon in her mouth, pouting around it and instead poking him. Then she realizes she wants to talk but doesn't want to stop pestering or holding the bowl, frowns to herself, then speaks anyway. Despite my not typing it out how it sounds, it's ridiculous.]

One spoonful less won't -- kill me.

[He dares!!! Sort of.

He's already squirming away from her poking with a weird noise of his own, one that becomes his standard laughing-cough as she speaks through a spoon and a mouthful. He shakes his head.]

Sharing... that spoonful... might... I'll try... what's left... but... it won't be... the same...

[She counters with what, if he is very good at this game, can be interpreted as, "Obviously I'm not sharing this spoonful. It's in my mouth. What, want me to stick my tongue out so you can grab it? I'd lose my spoon and that's really fucking gross." Frankly it's a miracle that she doesn't choke on anything. Once ensured that he's given up a sufficient amount, Ryder gives him a smug grin, then turns to lean back against the counter to continue her meal.]

For real, though. It's -- not like it's wasting it for you to eat. We can't keep it very long -- and I don't want -- my stomach bursting because it's suddenly too -- much. It -- might help! Taste and smell are linked strongly -- to memory, right? You obviously know the recipe still, so -- you know.

[He'll give that it's slightly above zombie-level communication. Slightly. But, he's also rather busy literally choking on laughter as she goes through that, somehow. Definitely a miracle she's not choking. There will be no CPR performed here.

He smiles through her explanation, but it's sad. When she's done, he sighs.]

My sense of taste... is dulled... Or altered... I'm not sure... It's the other reason... I don't bother... Guess the... sickness... decided I... didn't need that... so much...

[To be fair, having lest taste probably helps the live-eating process.]

[She hums around her spoon, then clinks it against her teeth a few times like maybe it's a drumroll leading up to her conclusion.]

So -- you're saying we should dump more spices in it. Quadruple.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject