Zombie Stomach Soup

(( Continued from: [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

Strolling down the halls, Rein tried to keep his long strides shorter and slower to stay by Owen's side rather than walking ahead of him. He hummed to the tune of Bach Cello Suit No. 1 Prelude, his echoing tone a little haunting, as his left hand made the finger motions for the scales on his right forearm idly, moving with a practiced fluidity. From just the walk, his pony tail had already reached the top of his shoulders, brushing just between the tops of his scapulae.

"Just so you know," He spoke suddenly, fingers still playing the song on his arm despite the fact he had stopped humming along. "I'm not really going to do anything strange to your food. What would you like to eat, anyway? Lunch? Or something sweeter? Do you eat particularly healthy or have allergies? I'm not quite sure what you like..." He trailed off conversationally.

Seeing the doors to the kitchen not far and approaching, he sped up his steps just a touch to get there before Owen, taking the courtesy to hold them open in a gentlemanly fashion for the boy, inclining his head marginally.

Owen didn't say much during their trip to the kitchen, giving his room-mate an occasional glance, watching the movements on his arm from the corner of his eye. Despite thinking it to be rather strange, Owen withheld his comments, his main focus being getting from point A to point B without tripping, or some other unfortunate casualty.

He rolled his eyes slightly as Rein assured him. He'd assumed that he'd only been kidding before, but this did help to vanquish the lingering doubt that did remain. A thoughtful look crossed his face at the following question. "Um... I'm allergic to frogs... Don't think they actually have any here though," he joked, stepping past Rein to enter the kitchen. Glancing around, he leaned his back against one of the counters, waiting for Rein to follow.

"As for what's, then..." He smiled as he pondered. "You don't think you could cook up a beef steak, do you? You can leave out the greens, I'm not too.. fond of them," he hastily added.

Chuckling lightly, Rein entered after Owen, moving directly to pull out a stool for the boy behind one of the counters. This way, the boy could be off his feet and Rein could still talk to him as he cooked.

"I don't believe that they would have frogs in their kitchen, unless, of course, they intend to surprise us with some hidden delicacies." He smiled, but really, sometimes he wondered about this place. The tall boy paused as if he were going to offer to help Owen in to the seat, but he stopped, not wanting to insult the boy and not really expecting him to accept the assistance either. Instead, Rein dipped his head and excused himself to behind the counter. Having the much shorter hair pulled back and out of the way, he crossed to the sink to wash his hands. "I can see if they have any, sure."

Looking around, Rein noted that the kitchen was indeed dated, like much of the rest of the castle. Well, they were on an island, and the castle was old, it was to be expected he guessed. He recognized the piece that was a stove and went to light the fire underneath, setting the top to warm. He set out a frying pan and cover in preparation before looking around for a place where one might store meet. Gaze catching on an ice box, Rein cracked it open to look inside. Finding the desired foods chilled inside, he picked out a relatively small hunk, looking a descent size for one person. He held it up for Owen to see.

"Does this one look good enough?"

Owen looked to the stool, not realising it had been there before. Not that he was complaining anyhow, and he quickly moved to it, carefully lowering himself onto it with a relieved sigh. He set his crutches to one side, balancing them against the counter. However, the balance had been slightly off, and the crutches decide to fall to the floor with a clatter before Owen could grab them. He frowned, but shrugged it off. He could always ask Rein to pick them up later - his new room-mate had turned out to be incredibly useful for silly inconveniences like this.

Owen watched as Rein began to prepare the kitchen for working. Owen had never figured out how it worked himself - he'd always nab what was already prepared on the dining tables. To say the least, he was certainly no chef like Rein appeared to be. His eyes flickered over the meat for only a brief moment before he nodded. "It's fine."

His fingers twiddled boredly, and he looked to an adjacent cupboard with a suggestive glance. "...Mind getting a drink or something? Like... cola." He leaned his elbow on the counter, resting his head on it. "How come you're like... a cook or something? And you said you can't eat it? I mean, I know you like, make stuff for that lion chick but, ehh..." He trailed off, realising he'd answered his own question. "...I dunno."

Glancing up at the clatter, Rein saw that the noise was not in fact Owen falling off the stool or some other such mishap, but merely the crutches. He smiled slightly and nodded at the approval of the meat, taking it to the pan. Shuffling through the bottles next to the stove he picked out one that was a thin, slightly greenish brown, but fairly clear liquid. Smelling it quickly and finding it to be Olive oil, he dashed some on the pan and put it on the stove, letting it warm before placing the meat in it with a hiss from the oil. He covered the pan and crossed to other cabinets in search of a drink.

"I don't know if they have cola..." He pondered aloud. "Looks like they have a nice assortment of teas though..." He continued shuffling. "Grey, black, green, looks like a nice Scottish blend here..." Rein listed off the kinds he saw. Though he laughed when Owen suggested he was a chef. "I merely enjoy cooking. My mother and I would cook together before I made myself a Lijk. But now, I can't eat it. I can't eat or drink anything because my body does not digest anymore, being the way it is." He turned to give a small smirk to Owen. "It's alright though, I never get hungry, I don't really miss it all that much anymore."

He was glad Rein seemed to know what he was doing, because Owen certainly didn't. He did frown at the mention of drinks, however. No cola? It was worth a try. The list of teas failed to interest him, and he gave a passive shrug. "Just gimme water then..."

He found Rein's explanation a somewhat depressing one, even if the boy didn't seem to think so himself. It seemed almost impossible to imagine someone living without the desire to eat. How did they last..? "Can't you like, taste it or something?" he asked. "Like... how do you know you're not cooking something that tastes like crap?" He raised his arms in case he got offended. "I mean, not sayin' it would taste like crap... Just an example.."

Every so often, he'd glance at the pan in anticipation, eagerly waiting its finish. He caught himself salivating too late, before using his shirt as some sort of towel to clean it.

Nodding and closing the cabinet, Rein stopped to check the steak. He grabbed some salt and pepper to sprinkle over it quickly before recovering. The tall boy retrieved a glass, filled it with water and crossed over to place it before Owen, within the boy's reach. He then leaned his forearms on the counter, staring at the boy with a strange look as if contemplating.

"I can taste, sure. But think of my body as stuck in time. As you see it is how it will always be. If it takes in food and changes its chemical balance, it wont be the same. Therefore, my body is incapable of taking in meals. I do sometimes take small sips of drinks or literally a single bite of something that can just melt in my mouth, like sugar cubes, though." He shrugged. "But if I eat a meal...well, it'll just sit there. For example, I can go underwater, and never have to come back up, but if my body fills, well, I have to get the water back out." He gave a small smile and raised an eyebrow, hoping that that got the point across. After all, if it went in and wasn't going through, it would have to come back out the way it came. And throwing up was not pleasant. For Rein, it was just better to not eat. "I can, however, make sure what I cook isn't completely horrendous, though." He chuckled at the boy and pushed off the counter, going to the pan and flipping the steak.

"It's almost done." He noted.

As the water was placed before him, it was quickly received with gratitude. Great swigs were taken, and by the time he placed it back down, only a quarter remained. He hadn't realised how thirsty he'd been. A relieved gasp left his mouth as he turned his attention back to Rein, blinking as if he'd just realised he was looking at him.

Owen listened carefully as he explained, nodding along. His expression soon became rather disgruntled as he realised what he was saying. To say the least, it was gross and unappealing, yet at the same time, it intrigued him. "So, you don't sleep, you don't eat... But other than that... you can do anything you want, and not suffer for it?" The tone of his voice seemed notably interested. "You could go skydiving, or... skiing... you wouldn't have to worry about accidents or nothing. Makes me wonder why you're wasting your time in a place like this."

He leant forward, resting his chin on the flat of his palm, unable to tear his gaze away from the pan for long.

"Well, it certainly depends on what you consider suffering." Rein almost scoffed. "As I said, I do still feel pain for the moment and my body can still be hurt. I still die, just not permanently." He shrugged and poked at the meat with the fork, testing it. "Besides, I'm not really in to extreme sorts or risks. I've never tried them, and I don't really have a desire to go down a mountain or jump off a plane. Seems a bit silly." Nodding, he turned and searched the cabinets until he found a plate, it was a simple white, elegant piece. Tipping the pan, he slid the meat onto the plate and dribbled the juices over it so that it wasn't in the least dry.

Placing the pan back on the stove, he brought the plate over, looking a little unsure.

"You positive you want nothing else? Seems a little bare. You said no greens, so I didn't add the usual stir fry. But, it's only lightly salted to keep the flavor with an accent of olive from the oil." Rein placed the plate in front of Owen, retrieving a sharp knife and clean fork to place at its sides. Then, he went back to leaning on the counter.

"My race isn't about risking, it's about caution. We are very careful to keep the secret of our immortality safe. The whole purpose of living forever is to learn. I gather and sort knowledge, experience history as it happens and record it. That's why a school is perfect for me. The library here is certainly extensive, and all the races that come here are incredibly unique and full of things I don't know. Going through high school a few times, I've learned most of what I need to know about human history, but now I'm finding how a magical world they didn't know about influenced them." He smiled genuinely. "It's fascinating."

A bit silly? Owen tightened his lips, trying not to look like he was offended in any way. Extreme sports weren't silly, they were cool. Sure, they'd be risking their lives, but it made them respectable figures in the process. Rein just didn't understand.

Of course, his attention immediately turned towards the freshly served dinner, almost ready to grab it with his bare hands. However, he sighted the cutlery presented, and reluctantly picked them up. "This is good 'nuff," he told him, shrugging. "Besides, I might be up for afters... if you are." He prodded his fork into the steak, lifting it as if to check underneath it for something. This was only meant as a teasing gesture - he didn't expect to find a cascade of crawling insects or rotting zombie parts, and never found any.

With the knife, it was sliced open with particular ease, and he raised a piece to his mouth, chewing satiably as he listened to Rein. "So.. you don't get bored?" he asked, his mouth still half full. Heck, he was only sixteen, and the number of times he'd gotten bored was almost countless.

"By the way," he added, swallowing. "This steak's pretty good."

Pulling the hair tie from his hair, Rein switched from a pony tail, to securing it up in a messy bun. It was already brushing past his lower back hanging, after all. He chuckled lightly at Owen as the boy checked it for anything suspicious.

"Sure, I'd be happy to." He nodded towards the stake, signaling that making another was no trouble if the boy wanted more. He turned to a walk in pantry, remembering it from last time he was in here. Going just inside the door, he reached into a box and withdrew a handful of sugar cubes before returning to the counter.

"Of course I get bored sometimes, but so does everyone. My last like...four years of high school were extremely boring. But you always find something to do in the end. It's why I play cello, for when there is literally nothing else to be done. 'Sides things seem to stay relatively interesting around here." The long haired boy popped a sugar cube in his mouth idly. "I have a long way to go though, can't be going stir-crazy yet. But what about you? You said you hang around? What does that actually mean, and how do you keep from getting bored?"

He inclined his head, smiling gently, when Owen complimented his cooking. "Thank you. I'm glad you like it."

Owen looked slightly surprised when Rein so readily offered to make more. Would he really? Smiling, he continued to cut up the steak before him with the knife and eating it. He did admit it though - it felt rather awkward with the boy standing there watching him.

"I guess..." he agreed quietly with Rein's statements. Although it wasn't necessarily true that it was interesting in this academy... either that, or Owen needed to pick up a hobby. He paused to think at Rein's next question. "Umm... It means I just... hang around where other people are, y'know?" Whether or not he actually interacted with them was questionable indeed. "There's a lot less to do now without the TV or anything..." He shrugged. "I dunno. I get bored a lot."

He glanced down at the steak as he continued chop pieces off. He smiled faintly. "You know, I used to have this like, every week or so... Then my mum was all 'if you want this so bad then get off your lazy ass and make it yourself'." He chuckled slightly at his own imitation, but there seemed to be something bitter about it. "But I can't actually make this, you know? We didn't really have it again."

Rein hummed lightly. He didn't understand, really. But he assumed it was like a gather of friends. Almost like what they were doing now: sitting and talking without really doing anything. He scoffed lightly though.

"Ah. Television. When I was little we had only just gotten a colored version. It was such a novel idea." The tall boy smirked, rolling his eyes. "Weird to see how casual it is now, technology grows so fast." The smirk settled into a small smile and he raised his eyebrows at Owen's impression.

"Well, as I've said, I enjoy cooking...and I think we've just discovered that I don't really have enough to do to fill my time. I'll be more than happy to continue making you meals, if you want, of course." He tilted his head, looking at the stake and at Owen's expression. "I'm going to show you how. Well make the next one together. It's rather simple, I'm sure you can do it." Rein spoke rather suddenly, smiled genuinely, fully intending on teaching the boy how to cook a stake.

Owen raised an eyebrow at Rein's talk of television. "Don't talk like that. It makes you sound like some old man," he lightly joked, being fully aware that Rein was exactly that. It wasn't something he readily wanted to admit, however; he still wanted to hold some faith in that Rein was still a fifteen year old.

Still chewing his steak, he noticed that it was nearly finished. It had gone down faster than he'd thought... However, he did do a double-take in surprise at Rein's offer, staring at him. "...Really?" Although hopeful, his voice carried a rather disbelieving tone with it. It probably was simple, heck, he'd watched it for himself. It wasn't that it was too difficult for him - more along the lines that he couldn't be bothered learning. But he was interested, in fact, he found himself leaning closer without even realising. "I've never really cook stuff by myself y'know..." he grinned. "I'll try not to set anything on fire, heh."

The steak was finished, and the plate was pushed forward, the knife and fork on top.

"I'm not old!" Rein adopted a playfully offended tone, nose scrunching and sticking his tongue out in jest, acting like a little kid. Well, he wasn't. Owen could complain he was old when he hit a hundred, but until then, Rein liked to think he was young. He certainly had no intention of acting like his mental age anyway. Well, not intentionally. He would try and fit in with his body.

He was surprised at Owen's agreement to learn but was pleased by it too. He liked that the boy took interest.

"No, not really." He rolled his glowing eyes and walked around the counter, bending down to pick up the crutches. "Of course! Common." He held out the crutches and was ready to help the boy if need be. "Maybe I should be glad I'm resilient. Just don't actively set something, especially me, on fire and I'll be happy." Grinning down at the shorter boy, Rein chuckled. It might be a little hard, having to hold himself up with his bad foot, but the taller boy figured he could help, might help in some cases even if Owen insisted he didn't need it.

"First, wash your hands, hm?"

Owen suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at Rein's claim. "Oh, sure you aren't," he said, his tone completely deadpan, but his expression revealing a hint of amusement. The corner of his lip twitched into a vague smirk.

He'd almost forgotten that his crutches had fallen, and he smiled gratefully when the taller boy retrieved them. A small "thanks" was muttered as he received them, and he hastily equipped them around his arms. Chuckling slightly at his comment, he pushed himself off the chair. "I can't promise you that" he grinned, peering for the sink before finally hobbling towards it.

He was going to mess up. If he'd somehow acquired a sixth sense without realising it, this was it. Somehow, he was going to humiliate himself in an awful attempt at cooking, to which Rein would forever tease him about. Luckily, the current task at hand wasn't impossibly difficult, and he stood in front of the sink, shifting his balance so he only had to lean on one crutch. The other was propped up against the counter, and thankfully, it didn't fall. One hand was washed. He swapped sides. The other hand was washed. It surprised him how much concentration he needed to carry out the simple task. He left the other crutch in its place, deciding that he would need a free hand to do this. Tentatively, he tried placing his bad foot down on the ground. It was sore at the slightest pressure - and though it wasn't unbearable, he feared that it would be if he placed more weight on it.

"What next?" He raised a brow. "You're the chef."

Smirking, eyebrow quirking slightly, Rein followed Owen to the sink, raising a hand to plop on the boy's head and ruffle his hair affectionately. It was an action to show off the taller boy's 6'1'' over the shorter's 5'3''.

"Careful, shorty, or I'll start calling you 'youngin' as I wave a cane around, which, I might add, I will hit you with." He tilted his chin up, giving the boy an amused look with a raised eyebrow. He let his hand drop and, collecting a new plate, crossed to the icebox to pick out a smallish stake much like the one before. It seemed to be relatively fresh and was only very cold, not having an actual lot amount of ice on it. He carried it over and placed it on the new, clean plate to wait a moment before turning to Owen, pointing to a bottle.

"That's the olive oil that you need to put on the pan. You can use the same pan I did, it's already hot and the fire is still on under the stove as well. Careful though, it's cast iron, the handle is hot and it's a bit heavy." He turned in a quick circle, scanning the kitchen before spotting and snatching up a dish cloth. He held it out to Owen. "You might want to use this to keep from burning your hand."

Owen didn't expect the hand to suddenly land on his head. He was far too late in ducking away, and he turning his head to grin jestingly up at the boy. "Then I'll just have to call you 'grandpa'," he teased, chuckling.

He looked on in anticipation when the steak was placed on the new plate, but he did gesture towards the plate that he'd recently finished from. "Why don't we just use that?" he asked.

Owen stared as Rein laid out instructions - his squinted eyes and tightened lips giving him that 'concentrating' look - almost as if it took sums of effort to simply pay attention. Oil on the pan... Careful with the pan... Seemed simple enough. He slowly took the dish cloth. "...Okay." He stepped forward, slinging the cloth around his unused crutch-arm before making a grab for the bottle. The lid was flipped open and was quickly squeezed into the pan. Aa, too much?! He slammed the bottle back where it belonged. What else? He looked to the steak, and grabbing it with a spare and and plonking it into the pan. It sizzled.

He made a grab for the handle, before almost immediately regretting it. Wincing, he rubbed the hotness onto his shirt. Oh, the cloth. Duh. Taking the cloth, he wrapped it around the handle, before giving a glance behind himself to Rein as he awaited approval... or disapproval.

Rein rolled his eyes and sighed in a feigned exasperated manner, though there was a small smile at the corner of lips. He stood back and watched as Owen worked. As much as he try not to, the taller boy couldn't help but hide his laugh behind a hand as the other boy added a but too much olive oil and slammed the bottle back down. It wasn't so much that he was doing poorly, he just lacked a finesse.

Rein winced and shook his head sadly as Owen grabbed the hot panel, and smirked at the boy when he looked back.

"I told you, it's hot." He chuckled as he stepped forward next to Owen at the stove. "Alright, good so far. Now, you need to get the olive oil under the steak so it doesn't stick to the pan. Using the handle, shift the pan slightly to slide the meat around a bit." He demonstrated with his own hand and an imaginary pan. "Just be careful not to splatter yourself. Then, you can cover it to keep it from drying out."

There were two things that Owen was wondering at this point, one of them being why Rein had bothered trying to teach him. Just how much potential was he seeing? The second thought - the more prominent of the two - was why he'd even accepted it. Right now, he felt as if he was embarrassing himself more than he was impressing his more experienced room-mate.

The sting on his hand had worn off, and he resumed gripping the handle, the cloth thankfully shielding him from any more similar casualties. Giving the demonstration a sidewards glance, Owen attempted to imitate it, he tilted the pan, the oil dribbling to the lowered edge with the meat slowly following. It was slightly lackluster, but at the very least, nothing had exploded yet. The cover was grabbed and placed over the pan.

He looked to Rein. "Do I just wait now?" With a small smirk, he rested his elbow on the edge of the counter. "I bet I could make it on TV with my skills," he sarcastically quipped. "Too bad I don't plan on being a chef... My profession happens to be arm wrestling." He raised an eyebrow in a challenging manner, the fingers on his hand flexing.

"Yes, wait a minute, then add salt and any other spices or herbs you may want." The tall boy nodded. "Then, you simply wait for the meat to finish cooking to the desired amount." Rein tossed his head in a quick casual manner to flick the long bangs from his eyesight. He smiled.

"You certainly could. It'd be a great comedy series." His smile shifted into a smirk and he gave a small chuckle. Rein watched as Owen braced his arm against the counter, and at the challenging look, dropped the smirk. A flash of hesitance crossed Rein's face. "Oh, you surely don't mean to ask me to arm wrestle you, right?" At this realization, the long haired boy took a step back and raised his own hands in a surrendering motion. "I promise you, I am really very unskilled in such things..." He trailed off, eyes flickering from Owen's face to his hand and back. "Picture me the nerd in high school, I do math, I read, I sit in the corner trying to be unseen in gym. You really don't want to arm wrestle me."

"...Okay." He lifted the cover, a puff of hot, steaming air rising upwards. The steak looked nowhere near finished yet, which he probably should have expected since he'd put it there just a minute ago. However, he still felt inclined to feel disappointed anyway. The salt was grabbed and he sprinkled it over, with the pepper following shortly afterwards. He squinted his eyes at a selection of spices and herbs, unsure which one he was meant to pick. He decided to just leave it, plunking the cover back over the steak. "How long am I meant to wait?" he muttered, 'desired amount' being a little vague for his tastes.

He smirked vacantly at Rein's words before his expression suddenly seem to snap as if he'd just registered what he said. "Hey, watch it," he warned, reaching an arm out to lightly punch his shoulder in a joking manner.

He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath as Rein seemed to wuss out at the proposition of a little duel. Although, he would of at least wanted a match anyway, to reap the satisfaction of winning. "Alright then," Owen said, waving off the idea. "So what do you say we do then? Just while we wait. Only thing I can think of is a staring contest, and I bet you don't even hafta blink or something."

"The desired amount." Rein spoke laughingly as he repeated himself. "It means that you cook it until until it is how you like it. Do you like your meat on the rawer side, or the tougher side? That makes a difference for how long you cook it. I would say, though, that definitely cook it longer. It shouldn't be entirely red." His laugh became louder at the playful punch and he turned his shoulder to it playfully wincing, glad that Owen had gotten the slight against him.

Rein quieted and looked around at Owen's suggestion as if something to do would pop up rather spontaneously. "It's true, I don't have to blink. I don't have any necessary bodily functions anymore, mind you, though I still have habits. It's still a habit for me to blink, one that is hard to fight unless actively trying." He turned and gave the other boy a sort of pout. "Really, they way you expect me to be, you make me seem so inhuman." A small quirk of the corner of his lips upwards broke the slight frown and he rolled his eyes. "Very well. How does one participate in an arm wrestling?"

Owen stared dumbly at Rein as if he were speaking another language. How was he to know which way he preferred it, or how long that would take? A steak was a steak. He didn't want to ask further, in fear of looking like an idiot, so he settled for simply guessing when it was ready. He subtly flexed his arm at Rein's wince, smirking as if he had the upper hand.

"Weeell," he awkwardly began, shrugging at his minor accusation. "Pretty much everyone here is some sort of alien or something anyway. Does it make a difference?"

He was satisfied that Rein seemed to accept his challenge. He made his way slowly to the other side of the counter where he'd previously been sitting. Resting his right elbow on the counter with an arm in the air, he looked to his room-mate. "You just gotta put your arm like this on the other side of the table. Then you just have to push my hand down until it reaches the table. S'not hard." He flexed his hand in anticipation. "You can just start when you're ready."

Simply assuming Owen had understood this time, Rein dropped the subject of the meat. Instead he focused on another curious thing the boy had said.

"We have alien's here?" He raised an eyebrow and paused, not having given much thought to extraterrestrial life before. He shook his head after to rid of the thought for now. "No, it doesn't really matter. That's why I am here with you rather than at a regular school." The tall boy grinned happily and tilted his head in a rather innocent fashion. His hair, now back to full length as if it were never gone, swayed with the motion, still tied in back in a pony tail. His expression fell, however, when Owen moved back to the counter and he warily eyes the other boy's hand.

Coming to stand at the counter across from Owen, Rein leaned down to rest his elbow on the surface and mirrored the opposing arm. With hesitance, Rein placed his palm against the other boy's and wrapped his long elegant fingers over the base of the thumb, hooking the digits.

"I do believe you neglected to mention the fact that you are going to be pushing back, no? That is the object of this...or am I mistaken?" With a sigh, and a determined look, Rein started pushing against Owen's hand.