How Girls Work (...we think) {Henry}

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"Wow, that's cool. I don't even know how that would work." He looked down at his hands, remembering the rats and mice he used to catch as a kid to stick in his sisters' beds. How would you do that sort of thing without thumbs? "So I guess it was a whole society down there, huh?"

As he followed Remy's pointing finger with his eyes, he looked at the large metal box somewhat curiously. It reminded him a bit of the wardrobe in his room, only metal. There were so many strange things in here, it was impossible to tell what was what. "We used storage rooms," he said, moving across the room toward the machine. It was humming gently, and he wondered if it was supposed to do that. But then lots of machines hummed, so it was probably okay. "If we needed to keep something cold it was down in the cellar. I used to sneak down there a lot when I was little. Try to steal some of the cream. And of course that was where the best drinks were kept, too."

He opened the door and saw something that was probably a goose, or at least some type of bird. Good enough. "What sort of fruit? Should I just bring everything that's in here?"

He loaded up his arms with food and carried it over to the counter next to Remy, dumping it all out. "I've never even been in a kitchen in this world before. I don't understand any of the new technology here. I'm just getting used to this phone!" He pulled said object out of his pocket and frowned at it for a moment before tucking it away again. "There's a lot about this place that I still don't understand."

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"Uh, yeah, a whole society. There's a chief and everything," said Remy, waving a hand dismissively. "I was his son."

Remy was busy gathering ingredients and preparing to cook a goose. He wasn't entirely certain he'd actually done that before, and he definitely wished that he had a cookbook on hand. However, Remy was definitely not short on natural talent, and Henry had likely eaten the dish enough to at least describe it to the ex-rat; that would be enough to get them started.

Storage rooms? That sounded like, well, it sounded like where Remy and his family went when they wanted to steal things. Best not to mention that. Best to focus on the whole cooking thing.

"Fruit," repeated Remy. He turned away from his prep, looking to the fridge. "Uh, whatever you usually ate with the goose. I figure it's going to need a fruity sauce of some kind. I'm thinking that we want to go with orange, since that's usually what they do with fowl, but I'm mostly trying to recreate something for you, remember?"

He turned back, frowning, then nodded. He began walking to where he knew the birds to be stored; the "meat locker," which was a different room altogether, and most definitely magical.

"At least you're used to magic," he called over his shoulder. "Technology at least makes sense. I still haven't figured out the first thing about magic. At all."

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"Chief?" Okay, so not a kingdom or anything, but, "Wait, his son? Like, sub-chief or whatever?" All this was starting to sound uncomfortably familiar. "I guess you didn't like it too much." People who liked the power they held flaunted it. Or at least wore it. You could tell who liked whatever power they had and who wished it would all kind of go away.

Henry was busy looking at all the different types of food. The fruit at least looked familiar, once he found it hiding in one of the drawers. He tried to remember whatever the goose had tasted like and did it remind him of any of the fruits? Remy mentioned oranges, and that sounded good, so he picked up a couple of those. "Well I remember it tasting really smoky," he said as he picked out a few apples. "But I can't promise that wasn't just the fact that I always sat up next to the fire." Trying to remember any of the other tastes and compare it with the stuff that was in the fridge, he frowned at a few jars that had pictures of berries on them. He set down his bunch of fruits and opened one of the jars, sticking his finger in and pulling out something that appeared to be jam with all the actual fruit bits removed. He licked his finger clean, then smiled in excitement. He added the jam stuff to his pile.

Having set down his load on the counter he decided to venture back to the fridge to see if there was anything else he wanted to try. "Well it's not like I really understand magic. It doesn't really run in the family, you know. I mean, what kind of person wants a wizard king? Only someone who wants a tyrant, right? And yeah, I think I might have been supposed to go on some sort of quest or break some enchantment, but I never really paid attention to what I was supposed to do, so I kind of missed out on that whole thing. Magic is just scary, so I'd really rather avoid it if possible."

He was busy hunting in the fridge again. So far he'd turned up something that called itself butter but was really looked far to yellow and pure and just...smooth...to be real butter. But it tasted okay, so that was fine. Then there was something called Cool Whip. Henry had just decided he liked Cool Whip, at least once he'd figured out how to get it out of the can. He'd only made a small mess. He'd also found some carrots, even though these were all cut up little and shiny instead of the big ones he was used to. There was also a lot of lettuce that he chose to ignore because green things ate your spleen, or at least that was what he chose to believe.

After picking through the contents of the fridge and just pulling out everything he liked and ignoring the rest, he pulled it all out to the counter. "I'm not sure about the ingredients, but it might have tasted something like this?" he said, scanning the items. "But I'm thinking definitely apples. Apples and maybe some berries."

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"Err, yes to being his son, definitely no to being sub-chief," said Remy. He shifted, frowning down at the stuff he'd gathered to work on. The last thing he really wanted to think about was how disappointed his father would be to find him here, now. Not only had Remy continued with the "silly" goal of learning to cook and doing it for people, but he'd forsaken his "ratness" and become a human instead. Though if Remy had the choice, he might keep the whole rat thing going. If it wasn't for, you know, the drastically short life and stuff.

He turned to Henry as the prince began describing the dish. "It was probably smoked to some degree," he said, nodding. "Which takes a long time to do. This is already going to take a while as it is, so we'll have to settle for roast goose. Definitely grab some fruit and-- is that Cool Whip?"

Remy stopped, blinking in surprise and shock. Surely Henry didn't think that... No, nobody could be that foolish. But the prince was gathering several different things, most of which would taste horrible if you combined them. Just thinking about the mixture was turning Remy's stomach.

"Uh, that's nice," he said. He looked over the gathered ingredients, picking up what he really hoped was a bar of chocolate. "But we need to combine flavors. See, each food has a different taste and note. This chocolate and that goose might taste great by themselves, but together, they'll taste, uh, let's just say you wouldn't like it."

Frowning, Remy began sorting through the food, separating them into two piles. "Sort out some of the fruits and stuff. Uh, leave the Cool Whip, for now. I might be able to use that. Maybe. Definitely put up the chocolate stuff..."

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Yup. Definitely not a fan of the leadership thing. A nice little similarity between the two. Henry chose to let it drop there.

He had actually become rather impressed with his gathering skills. He'd managed to sample a little bit of just about everything, and it was truly delicious. "Yes, that's Cool Whip," Henry said, holding up the can. "It says so right here. I don't know where it can be used, but it tastes amazing."

He frowned, thinking about the combination of flavors. "But you wouldn't think coffee by itself goes with anything, yet people make it taste good." He was sure that cooks did some strange things with some of the food. Things that should never go together suddenly...did. How was he to know that chocolate wasn't one of those items? "All right, I'll go put stuff away." He sadly watched his pile be depleted. But at least it was still mostly good stuff.

"Is that going to be everything you need, then?" He started to gather up the chocolate and some of the other things in that pile to take back to the fridge. He'd come back and eat them later. "Wait, where's the fire? You said we were going to roast the goose, and I just realized...and then I'll order--no, wait." He realized somewhat belatedly that, once again, he didn't have servants here. "Maybe there's a machine to turn the spit?" Since he wasn't going to do that himself.

"The technology here really is strange. These phones allow you to call people on the other side of the world; did you know that? You don't have to wait to send a letter...but I guess you're probably used to that. Since you basically lived in this sort of world anyway."

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Oh, wow, was this... Remy had to fight to not stare openly at Henry, not quite believing that someone could be so clueless. Then again, Emile hadn't exactly been a fount of wisdom, so Remy figured he really shouldn't be judging. The ex-rat tried a slight smile, but it looked forced. Thankfully, he didn't have to hold it long. There was cooking to do, and that was a process in itself. Admittedly, it was a process that mostly involved Remy holding things up to his incredible nose and sniffing till he figured out what he wanted, but that was a detail, really.

"Uh, yeah, well, some stuff tastes good when you put it together, and some stuff really doesn't," said Remy. He'd just finished with a spice, adding a bit to the rub he was making. "It's like... you know how sometimes you hear, say, a trumpet or something? And it sounds really cool? Well, you couldn't have that trumpet in, like, your rock song. Unless your rock song is set up for a trumpet, but that would be a unique rock song, right?"

Okay, that explanation kind of sucked. So Remy was mostly forgetting it and getting back to what he knew best: the cooking thing. Thankfully, Henry's mind was mostly there.

"We'll use that," he said, pointing over his shoulder to a stove, "for the roasting. Because I'm definitely not turning a spit for a couple of hours," he looked over at Henry and raised a brow.

He waved for the prince to bring over the goose, and then the chef would start applying the prepared rub. There was fruit and such to put around it too, which Remy could work on soon enough.

"What? Oh, yeah, we had phones and stuff where I was from. Cars and all that too. It's usually the magic stuff that gets me here. I mean, they can magic up stuff from anywhere! There's even a faerie around here who's, like, mistress of sweets or something. It's so cool!"

He beamed a smile at Henry, before turning back to the pan, focused as he began placing fruit about the goose.

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Henry could see the almost contemptuous look on Remy's face. It made him want to pull out a knife and throw it into a wall, or pull out a deck of cards and perform a magic trick. He wasn't stupid, he'd just never been around food preparation. Let's see the rat try to wrestle a six-foot-three man to the ground with nothing but a fork and a beer mug. How was Henry supposed to know how food worked? He wanted to do all of this, say all of this, but he held back. At least for the moment.

Henry shrugged. "I guess. But I'm not exactly sure...how do you know these things won't taste well together unless you try them? I mean, I've seen people eat some really weird crap. Like once this guy put lamb's brain on his porridge. But he said he liked it that way." Never doubt what people will eat once they get it in their heads to try.

"Oh, okay. I'm glad they have machines for that now." He looked at the large box Remy had pointed at. The people in this world had the strangest inventions. Who would have thought that you needed anything more than a fire for cooking and a little servant to turn the spit? "I wasn't going to turn it, either, but I figured we could probably find someone to do it for us."

"Mistress of sweets is...cool?" Henry frowned. "I think I've heard of her before. Doesn't she live in a house coated with sugar in the woods and pull in unsuspecting children? At least, that's the story my nurse used to tell us kids to scare us out of the woods." There was one story in particular about a couple of peasant children...but that wasn't really pleasant to think about.

"Magic isn't strange. It's just...there. I don't really like it myself, since you never know what's going to happen or when you'll run into some magic person, but you learn to live with it. There's little things you can do, you know? Like, things you learn to look out for. And you survive." Always be nice to little old ladies on the side of the road, never be an oldest son out of three looking for an adventure, trolls turn to stone at dawn, things of that nature. "If you ask me, it's this world that's completely crazy."

He watched Remy put out the fruit and then left to go look at the stove some more. It looked fairly simple to operate. He turned the knob in front, all the way up to 400, but when he looked inside no fire had come on. He turned all the other knobs on as well, and while there was this weird sound of hissing air there wasn't any fire. Frowning, he went around the room looking for some way to light the thing. How were you supposed to cook things without a fire?

Finally he gave up. "Remy," he said, coming over to where the guy was standing, "I tried to turn on the machine to get the fire started and warm, but nothing happened. I don't know, I think it's broken. Is there some other way to cook that thing?"

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"Yeah, and I've got a brother who likes to eat things that he was pretty sure were wrappers at some point in their life," retorted Remy. "Look, there's a certain way of doing this food thing, okay? I'm not going to tell you how to fight someone, so leave the worrying about how this works out to me, and we'll both be happy.'

Remy nodded, turning to work on more prep work. The chef worked with remarkable efficiency, going at a rate that most human beings would consider nearly impossible. Remy did have extensive training in the culinary arts on top of his incredible talent and knack for it. Plus, he'd been working at cooking nearly nonstop since his arrival. So it really shouldn't be all that surprising that his hands nearly blurred as he shifted through ingredients. The really surprising part came in when he brought most of the ingredients up to his nose for a good sniff first.

"Wrong mistress of sweets," he called, not even breaking from his task. "This one's the Sugar Plum Fairy. You know, sweets dancing in the head and all that. I think she's almost literally able to do that. Grab some of that, over there, yeah."

He grabbed it, then nodded. The goose was ready, the sauce was prepared, and he figured they could probably do some salad or something to wait. So Remy was stuck waiting for the fast warming ovens to do their thing. This was what Henry had been "working" on, however.

"It takes a few seconds," said Remy, turning, "and those aren't the fire ones. You don't want to use those. Trust me," he shuddered and raised a hand to his brow, "it doesn't work out. Just turn the heat to about three fifty or so, and take a step back. See the light, there?" he pointed. "That's gonna turn, and we'll know. Then, you stick the goose in, while I finish up this sauce."

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Henry took the point about the fighting and backed off. Mostly. "I was just saying. How can I know any of this stuff? The last time I was in a kitchen it was to steal cream puffs when I was ten."

He watched Remy smelling all the food, assuming it had something to do with knowing which foods went together. That could make sense. He just hoped the guy didn't sneeze into the food. "Sweets in the...?" he said, confused. "Why would I want sweets in my head? Unless you mean in your mouth. That makes more sense." Who would literally want cupcakes or candy in their heads? That couldn't be healthy. "Are you sure it's not just the same person using different techniques?"

Henry blinked, utterly confused. "Not fire? Then...but how would I know that? Fire has always worked well, and I didn't know there was another way to cook things." He tried to defend himself. How stupid must he look, failing to even turn on an oven when all it needed was turning on a knob? "Fine, I can do that," he muttered. He was ducking into his shirt in an attempt to hide the slightly angry, slightly embarrassed flush that was growing on the back of his neck.

"You're pretty quick with a knife, you know," he said, looking over Remy's shoulder again. "Have you ever thought about trying to use that for other things? I bet if you bothered to practice you could be a great knife fighter. You'd just need a decent teacher. And, you know, some muscles."

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"I think it's less literal than that. Sort of visions and such," offered Remy, adding a shrug. He hadn't exactly grilled Plum on how her magical, mystical, vision giving powers worked. He'd been more interested in the literal land of sweets and the possibility of his getting a position there. He'd paused to give everything another once over, but by this point, he didn't think there was a whole lot he could do. They were just making a little snack for the two of them, though even Remy had to admit that roasted goose was a bit off of a thing to snack upon.

"Hmm? Oh, don't worry about it," he said, waving a hand. "Nobody expects you to know that stuff going in. Not like you're going to stick your head in there to find out, right? Just relax already, it's not like I'm going to be cooking you or anything."

Remy watched the over carefully. These had been enchanted to heat up fast, so he knew he'd need to put the goose in soon. Thankfully, the actual cooking process didn't get much of a speed up so much as a time working thing. Again, it was something that Remy didn't quite understand. then again, he really didn't get how electricity worked, and he'd seen enough rats find out what happened when you messed with that to not be that curious.

"Not interested in learning to fight," he said, shrugging. "I cook, and, well, that's what I really want to do. I'll leave the other stuff to other people."

The oven light turned, and Remy grabbed the goose. "Go ahead and get that open, will ya?"

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"Visions of sweets? Is she the one that does that? Well is there any way to make her stop, then, so I stop feeling so hungry all the time?" He smirked at his own little joke, sure that he was the cleverest little prince. He looked over the food and smiled again, taking a deep whiff. It smelled pretty good. His stomach rumbled in response and he patted it once and mentally told it to shut up.

The fact that Henry had been considering ducking his head into the oven to see how it worked made him flush even more, but he didn't say anything. He mumbled under his breath. "If you're not going to cook me then you could stop grilling." And he smiled again. Two jokes in only ten minutes! He was on a roll.

He opened the oven door for Remy. "Well maybe you don't want to learn to fight, but you might have to anyway. Isn't that like, a requirement at this school? And what if you start getting bullied, or something? Wouldn't you want to know just some self defense?" It was hard for him to understand how someone, especially a guy, could not be interested in learning to fight. "How do you even expect to survive, or get a girl for that matter?" He realized a little late that he'd said this last part out loud.

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It took Remy a few seconds to get the joke, but the moment he did, he burst out laughing. It was one of those explosions of laughter that wasn't too far from vomiting, when the stomach suddenly lurches with an explosion of gut-wrenching joy. It probably didn't help that Remy seemed especially weak to laughter and its effects. at any rate, he grabbed onto a nearby counter, holding it tightly in hopes of stabilizing himself to some degree.

The laughter died into a wheeze while Remy looked into a distant corner. He'd caught the tail end of Henry's words, and he was shaking his head in negation to them.

"I'm good, really," he said. "I mean, I've got my skills. So what if people beat me up? They haven't yet. If they did, I can always run."

Remy shrugged. He certainly didn't see any problems with running from someone bigger and stronger than him. He'd been doing it for years. He turned again, looking toward the ovens this time. They'd put the bird in there at some point during the giggling and all, so it did make sense. Still, the cooking would take some time, even with the enchanted ovens they were dealing with.

"And you really don't need to fight to get a girl, do you?" asked Remy, flicking his eyes toward Henry. not that Remy was entirely sure he wanted a girl, mind..

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Henry smiled a bit when Remy laughed. It was nice to be appreciated. Though that was a little overboard...he hoped the guy wasn't just faking it to be nice. "All right, wasn't that funny," he mumbled after a bit, only half meaning it.

Running? Really? Oh, right. Ex-rat. That might explain it. Henry still felt the urge to roll his eyes. It was just so...so unmanly to run from a fight!

"Well you don't fight the girl or anything," Henry said, picking his teeth with a skewer he found lying around. "But what if there's another guy who likes her or something? Well, you gotta be able to stand up to him to show you're worth it. Or what if she's in trouble? I mean, wouldn't you want to be able to save her instead of having to call for someone else? How lame would that be?"

Throwing the skewer down, he frowned and rubbed his tongue over his top teeth. "Course who am I to talk? Not like I'm that great, except at wrestling. And knives. I can throw knives pretty well. Want me to show you?" He picked up one of the kitchen knives and hefted it in his hand. The balance was off for a throwing knife, but it seemed to still be pretty decent. He aimed at one of the doors and raised his hand, squinting his eyes in concentration.

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Okay, that didn't really make a lot of sense to Remy. There was something there about fighting for a girl you liked and all kinds of stuff that just baffled the ex-rat. Why would you have to fight for someone you liked? If she was in trouble, you could always save her some other way, or she'd likely figure out a way of getting out of it herself. As for standing up, who cared?

Henry seemed confident enough in what he said to keep going, however. He picked up a knife and talked about demonstrating skills that were only tangently related to the culinary arts.

"Uh, I don't think you really need to," said Remy, holding up his hands as if he'd like nothing so much as to grab the knife out of Henry's. "I mean, those aren't really knives made for throwing, you know? They're more, cutting knives. Plus, I'm pretty sure I've seen people throw knives and stuff before. Not a fan."

Not really a fan of violence, period, now that he stopped to think about it.

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Henry rolled his eyes. "All knives are cutting knives. That's what they're for." But he put the knife down anyway. His mind was already racing for something else he was good at, though. He wasn't about to let this guy think he was completely useless in all walks of life.

"Girls like it when guys can do cool stuff. And don't you want to be able to rescue a beautiful girl? Have her thank you for whatever you did? I mean, how often can you swoop in and save someone with raspberry tarts?" Rather often, now that he came to think of it. Henry got hungry a lot. He hoped Remy wouldn't be thinking of this.

"Is the food almost done?" he asked, trying to change the subject. He wasn't really sure how long he could keep up this pretense on knowing a lot about girls. Really most of what he knew came from books anyway, and that hardly counted. Books and stories from the guys at the pub, though at least he knew those were mostly exaggeration anyway. There was no way any guy had a...well. It just wasn't anatomically possible.

"When was the last time you hung out with a group of guys, Remy?" Henry asked, resting his arms on the table in front of him. "I mean like, going down to the pub and telling dirty jokes and all of that? Probably a while?" If ever. Remy looked like the kind of guy who needed to get out of the house more. "Man, that's what I could use right now. Some of ol' Maggie's dark ale...she had the best in the city, you know. That stuff would knock you off your feet with just one sip. Hoo, I miss Maggie's place." He sighed and shook his head. "Picked up some pretty neat card tricks there, though," he said with a grin.