doggone

[repeatedprayer]

[In the time following his departure from Tabito and Manabu's company, the alias "Grey" has wound up sticking.

Not that everyone calls him that, he's used a few other aliases since then, but it's what he's wound up thinking of himself as. If Grey had taken the time to think about it a bit more he might have picked something with a little less connection to Rezo's name, but it's still leagues better than thinking of himself as "Rez- wait, no, just a copy." And maybe that's why he's felt significantly calmer since he left Sairaag.

By his own standards, Grey has been laudably well-behaved; sure, he's been mostly doing under-the-table psychic work, often on behalf of criminals, but! He's been trying to keep a low profile so it's usually things like clairvoyant spying rather than anything violent, and he's been making a point of not doing anything that directly impacts the galaxy railways.

It would be extremely awkward if Manabu Yuuki had to try and arrest him, after all.

He's found himself frequently thinking about Manabu, much to his annoyance. He has no serious expectations of ever seeing Manabu again, so it's simply a waste of mental bandwidth to find himself wondering what Manabu is doing right now or where he is, or to reminisince over their incredibly brief acquaintanceship. Grey can only suppose that because Manabu was the first reasonably normal person he got to know after leaving Sairaag that Manabu is going to stick out in his mind for a while.

And it's probably because of the real estate that Manabu is hogging in Grey's mind that he's been very aware of every mention of the SDF that crosses his path. He hasn't exactly been tracking the SDF's activities deliberately, but he does pay attention to the news and the SDF frequently winds up in there, even if Manabu's name in particular isn't normally dropped.

Until the day it does.

SDF Officer Taken Hostage By Pirates]

* * *

[It's taken several weeks of investigating, but Grey has been able to track down The Huntress's client, a Dr. Parish and associates. It must be a small galaxy, because Dr. Parish is someone Grey knows. Sort of.

Rather, Dr. Parish was a colleague of Rezo's who collaborated with the man on chimera research (and other unsavory things) in the past. Not only that, the man was an ardent admirer of Rezo's superior psychic prowess, and desperate to improve his own meager abilities.

He'd had quite a shock when Grey approached him in town, but after the initial surprise it had been sickeningly easy to convince Dr. Parish that he was the real Rezo. Grey can only surmise that the man wants to believe too badly to let himself be properly suspicious. It had only taken a day for Grey to be invited to tour Parish's laboratory.

The lab's located on the grounds of a former Marquess's estate, a ways out of town and secluded by trees, a high wall, and a long drive. Grey's done a little recon before, but actually being here is different, especially since he has to navigate by cane at the moment. Grey is doing his best to politely nod and smile as Parish guides him from room to room, explaining their work and occasionally handing him things to examine himself.

But evidently Parish realizes that "Rezo" isn't entirely interested, because he stops partway through an explanation of some stem cell experiments he and a few others have been working on to say "Of course, the really interesting specimens are kept in the basement floor."

Grey already knows this. He hopes his expression seems the right sort of eager.]

Interesting?

["Something along the lines of what we did in the past. Would you like to see them?"]

Nothing would please me more.

[Grey can practically hear Parish's delighted grin. To soothe the surge of irritation, Grey reminds himself that he's going to kill this man before the end of the day and allows Parish to guide him out into the hall and to the basement entrance at the back of the building.]

Comments

[siriusly]

[Manabu locks the door behind them, turning and watching all the bags and things getting piled up. a pang of guilt hits - he should've been able to help!!

he swallows on it and sighs, pushing away from the door and walking slowly over. it's not so bad, so long as he keeps his eyes focused on one thing in front of him.]

This, on top of the fancy dinner, huh... [it's gonna be one helluva tab to pay up later, isn't it.]

[repeatedprayer]

[Not so much of a tab as Manabu may think, considering:]

Ah yes, you volunteered to do the cooking, didn't you?

[Grey gets to work sorting through the bags, separating the groceries from the everything-else and carrying them off to the cupboards and fridge. He hasn't done the best job bringing everything home, honestly- the bread is squished, as is the package of butter, a few of the eggs did not survive the trip home, and some of the veggies are bruised.

He doesn't ask Manabu to help him unpack, but he won't protest if Manabu decides to look through what he bought either.]

[siriusly]

[oh dear. Mom would be disappointed with this haul... but beggars can't be choosers! Manabu takes some of the less fragile stuff along with him, lest he give that egg carton more PTSD with a dizzy spell, and sizes everything up. it'll be a kitchen sink kind of situation, but...this is doable.]

You got a knife and something to cook on, right?

[repeatedprayer]

In the other bag.

[He gestures.]

I also picked up a whisk? I believe those are used on eggs and things.

[Note: Grey did not pick up a proper mixing bowl. Or measuring things. Or a cutting board to go with that knife. Is it obvious he doesn't really cook much?]

[siriusly]

['used on eggs and things'....they sure are, buddy. Manabu's mouth twitches, then purses into a thin line to keep from puffing out a laugh as he goes through the other bag.

...

no cutting board. hm. well! he'll just...wipe down the counter extra good later.

no bowls to separate cut things in, either...

this is fine.]

...Right. [he rolls up the cuffs of his sleeves in order to wash his hands and get started on this attempt. here goes nothing.]

[repeatedprayer]

[There are the cereal bowls they've been using! Those are kind of useful, right? Not that Grey is cognizant enough of what proper cooking requires to realize the issue and try to defend himself.

While Manabu gets started on a late lunch, Grey finishes unpacking. Hat and cord go with Manabu's clothes; the various entertainments are stacked near the bed; the hair dye would go in the bathroom except Grey would have to shoulder Manabu aside to get in there, so he just sets it on the shelf at the back of the room, along with Manabu's gun.

Then after that he winds up hovering a bit behind and to the right of Manabu, watching what he's doing curiously.]

What are you making?

[siriusly]

[Manabu's tail swishes idly, lightly bonking Grey's leg.]

An educated guess, eheh... [he's arranging things in groups that make sense to him, then picking at the meat packaging with the tip of the knife.] I can sear all of this in one go and save some for later, probably...

[he tilts his head up to look at the cupboards above him.]

Think there's any seasonings just...hanging around in here? [like.....even just salt.]

[repeatedprayer]

[In theory, cooking should make sense to him- Grey has all of Rezo's knowledge, and the man knew about chemistry and things. Cooking is basically just chemistry, but with the goal of making something edible. But in practice... He's not entirely sure how one combines disparate foodstuffs to create a meal. As far as he's concerned, what Manabu's doing right now is some kind of alchemy.

All this to say:]

Er... No?

[No salt, no pepper, no nothing.]

[siriusly]

Ahaa... [a withered sound. but he smiles anyway, determined to power through.] Well, things might taste a bit bland! But it'll be better than dry grains. I'll try to stir-fry a little...

[though he does realize as he's turning the hot plate on that he has no cooking oil. yeesh. it'll be crunchy.

despite the disparities, Manabu's actually rather energized by the challenge - finally, something to do other than sit and stare at articles or literally nothing! it feels good to do something tactile, even if it is just cutting little cubes of meat (or facsimiles of cubes - he's not an artist here) and fishing around for a fork or a spoon to move them around on a hot pan.

even unseasoned, cooking meat smells good, so he's pleased there'll be at least a decent result to all this... though, while he's moving to chopping veggies, he can't help but double-take at Grey just...looming over him like a gargoyle.

with a crooked smile:] What - don't think I can handle this much unsupervised?

[repeatedprayer]

Is seasoning really that important...?

[Despite mumbling such sacrileage to himself, Grey does enjoy quietly watching Manabu work. He's already getting a little hungry, actually, what with running around all day and worrying about Manabu the whole time.

He blinks at the question.]

No, I- [Well, maybe a little! Manabu has to stand to cook, which puts him at risk of dizzy spells... While holding sharp things and working with hot pans, no less! But mostly, it's just genuine curiosity about a process he only has a little familiarity with.]

I haven't really seen anyone cook since I was working with your mother.

[siriusly]

[with a slight laugh in his voice:] She’s a hard act to follow, so don’t expect that quality. No seasoning and all…

[he chops up the veggies between turns shuffling meat around to keep it from burning, tossing handfuls in when done, eyes wincing at the way they sound, turning the heat down.]

It doesn’t look too bad… it’ll just be dry. Sorry about that.

[repeatedprayer]

[Grey peers over Manabu's shoulder at the contents of the pan, wondering exactly what is meant by it looking "not bad." He'll take Manabu's word for it, though.]

That's fine. If I'm going to complain, then it would be better to just do it myself.

[And he's not so prideful that he believes he can do a better job than Manabu. Not when it comes to this, anyway.]

[siriusly]

[it doesn’t take long to cook up the humble assortment and divy portions out into the cereal bowls.]

Okay… let it cool a second, then give it a try.

[repeatedprayer]

[Grey takes a bowl and fork from Manabu and goes to sit on the bed, examining the food for a few moments. Is it cool enough yet? Should he blow on it, or...?

After hesitating, he mentally shrugs and takes a bite.]

...It's good.

[Kind of an exaggeration. Manabu's right that it's a bit dry and bland. But it's nice to have something cooked that isn't instant noodles.

Crunch crunch.]

[siriusly]

Ehh...? [he's doubtful, but...hopeful. he didn't overcook the meat, so the juices maybe help?

he gives it a shot, ears perking.

his tail wags a little.]

Hmmh-! [when's the last time he had meat and veggies? he can't remember at this point. regardless, this is a nice shock to the system.]

[repeatedprayer]

You seem satisfied with the results.

[Grey can't help but grin, seeing Manabu's reaction. Despite the setbacks, it looks like the trip was worth it after all. The sheer level of expressiveness on this man is adorable, and Grey's terribly tempted to say so.

Maybe after Manabu has finished eating.]

[siriusly]

[Manabu was already pretty transparent with his moods and emotions, but the ears and tail are just billboards screaming it out: the tail is wagging happily as he chows down, ears twitching when Grey remarks.]

Mmrh, well-! [gulp.] No offense to the cereal, but this is the first...food-feeling food I've had in...in a while, so-!

[repeatedprayer]

That's an interesting way of putting it, but I believe I understand what you mean.

[As hungry as he is, Grey's eating much more slowly than Manabu just because he's so distracted by watching Manabu's reactions.]

Would you be willing to continue doing the cooking, then? You seem to have more knowledge of the subject than I do.

[Aaand hopefully it will help Manabu with the stir-craziness.]

[siriusly]

Thatsh fine-- [mouth full. give him a second.] I can get a list of things to get next time?

[repeatedprayer]

I'm all ears. What exactly are we missing?

[Grey's already picked up on "find seasoning" even if he's not one hundred percent sure what that means.]

[siriusly]

[Manabu hums, fork in his mouth for a beat before chewing and finishing off the next bite.]

Cooking oil, salt, pepper, soup stock... [oh, miso...] Mmrh... [he uses another bite to eat as an excuse to think.]

Mn-! Noodles! Whatever ones you like.

[repeatedprayer]

[Grey nods along, in between bites of his food. He's got a good enough memory that he doesn't really need to write this down, though he's not sure what distinguishes cooking oil from regular oil... For soup stock, he's picturing something like bouillon cubes.]

Are you not satisfied with the noodles we already have?

[He's being facetious here. He's aware that the instant noodles are not what most people would consider nice noodles.]

I'll see what I can find. [He vaguely recalls seeing pasta in the stores he went to. Not so much udon, soba, or ramen, apart from the aforementioned instant kind.]

[siriusly]

[that remark gets a face. c'mon, man!]

Do you have the money? [he's not like............stealing money. is he....] What's our budget, anyway?

[repeatedprayer]

[Grey tosses out a moderate sum.]

We should be fine for groceries. Our biggest expense is likely to be any additional equipment you might need besides the gun- [If Manabu needs body armor, for instance, that will require some getting.] -And transportation off-planet.

[He pauses, remembering that Manabu, unlike Grey, can drive.] Or if we'll need a vehicle to get around.

[Grey prudently does not mention how he's been earning his savings, even though Manabu's sort of already been told.]

[siriusly]

[besides the gun.

Manabu's expression starts to wane into a frown. it was already discussed, yes, but he can't help but balk at the notion of using an illegally bought gun. he could determine not to use it no matter what, but...

...he's been down that road before, hasn't he?

humming an acknowledging sound, he turns to face the countertops and ruminate on this while cleaning up the remains of the meal. no storage containers, so the bowl will just have to do - it can sit in the fridge for a bit, as it's likely he'll eat the remains sooner rather than later, so long as his stomach settles with it well.

the idea that he can't do this without dipping into grey areas is clear...but he doesn't have to like it. he sighs, tail drooping as he finishes tidying up - a slow process, brought on by how weird his head feels if he moves too fast or looks at something mid-movement that jars his focus. all the more reason to diligently work to do it and feel like he's making some progress to being properly functional again.

when things are stowed away and the countertop wiped down, he lingers at it while the spinning ebbs, wondering how he's going to make this work beyond just the little steps he's making along the way.]