[PRP] Teenage Nightmare (Gene x Mort)

[medigel]

If zombies could get drunk, it would take more than some whine in pork. Mort nodded and tore into her portion as happily as if it were actual brains. Certainly it made up for the fact that he had been so close to tearing some flesh off that boomerang Hunter; he could hope it at least caused the boil to rethink that smug smile next time they met.

He did pause with the last of the pork on his fork when she asked after his room. "Er . . . Changes like what?" Mort asked before finishing off the piece and sitting back. Oh Jaaaaaaack~ This was a three-course meal, right? He wasn't sure if he could finish the rest. "Know is messy, but . . . Is that bad?"

Oh right, messy. He remembered to wipe his mouth with the napkin much as he hated to let the juices and leftovers go to waste.  

[Carhop Cavalier]

Changes like some actual organization, a few classy knickknacks, and just general cleanliness, honestly. And something that smelt better, please. Also a few additions to his current wardrobe, and maybe even a grooming kit for his whiskers. Because, you know, she could totally afford all of that. (She actually could, with all the shifts she covered.) "Oh, you know, just... some organization stuff. So your inventions and notes and stuff don't get ruined."

She examined him wipe off his face, slightly perturbed. Next lesson: table etiquette. That would probably happen after he was feeling better though; teaching an emotionally distressed person was pretty tough stuff. Plus, you know, blow ups sucked. "Would you want to take the rest of the roast home, Morty? You seemed to really like it." Involuntarily, her eye twitched in disgust. How could anyone enjoy that nastiness? She'd go out of business in a day if she sold that to the general Halloween public. Note to self: Get a new taste tester.

Speaking of taste testing...SPOOKIES! Without excusing herself, Gene launched herself from the seat. Hastily opening the oven, she found they hadn't burnt, much to the ghoul's relief. She tossed them onto two smallish plates, got out some pre-refrigerated glasses of milk, and set them on the table. "I...didn't quite feel up to making a huge cake. Sooo..spookies! Enjoy!" She took a bite, and made a frowny face. These spookies didn't suck, but....

Ugh, she failed at cooking. "Sorry for being a terrible cook...maybe we should just do pizza again." She huffed, and scarfed the spookie down. Baking lessons: necessary.  

[medigel]

True . . . that did sound like a good idea. "Sounds good," he said with a nod, looking sheepish. "Er, to room n' food." Jack, and that was where the first not-date had been! To him it wasn't so much a mess as it was organized chaos (since he at least remembered the general area of where things lied), but bringing someone else into the picture brought it into perspective. Sorta. Then again Mort hadn't expected to bring a ghoul there that night.

Did he still have stuff in his whiskers? He rubbed his mouth over again just in case while Gene launched herself back into the kitchen area. Did he get any on his shirt? No? Pants? Still clean. But it didn't matter since his mouth was going to smell like rotten meat, which Gene didn't want. Well no kisses from him then. Wait why was he thinking about kisses? She was just cooking for him, not seducing him. Sslfjdkfjskslasdedoijf. He needed to stop psyching himself out.

Spookies. Just think of spookies. "Y-You're fine," Mort told her as she came back with the plates, taking one and nibbling into it. Not bad - still a bit bland, but it wasn't bad. "Is only first time, c-can't expect perfect." But she looked on the huffy side nonetheless, so Mort smiled and took several more to finish them off and prove his point. "'Sides, i-is thought that counts. So, uh, when want to do room thing? M'going home in a couple've days."  

[Carhop Cavalier]

"That's nice of you Mort, and I'm glad that you're satisfied by them, but...I can't go to the public with that. Seriously, I'd run the business into the ground. But, thanks for the sentiment." Gene sounded more irate than she should have been, even if things hadn't gone as she wanted them too. It wasn't like her dreams were unattainable, she just needed to do a little more work.

"But where would I find the time to learn all this baking stuff anyway? People keep asking me to fill in for them at work, I've got classes, you need emotional attention, and I still have no clue where Gideon runs off to half the time." She was thinking aloud now, too frustrated to really realize that what she said could hurt a very volatile Mort. In her mind, her world was complete havoc, and she needed it to slow down and back the truck up. Why couldn't she just have some peace?

Getting up from the table, she found herself slumped on the couch, sighing and looking at the ceiling. "I could do it while you're gone, as a surprise. Well, it won't be much of a surprise, but...yeah. Another thing on my to-do list." Woe-is-frickin-her.  

[medigel]

The smile faded away immediately. Not at her the food thing, no, what she said made sense. But that frustrated list-off brought out some old injured feelings he had been trying to swallow down, and Jack did those wounds sting still.

"And until you're ready to leave your room... I can bring you food. Your pets too. I can't cook or anything, but I can get stuff from the Creepteria..." What did these ghouls think he was? A pet? Some patient with an injured heart and broken body they had to tend to because they were guilt-tripped? Were they even real friends, or were they just stroking their ego at the charity they gave him behind his back?

"Don't have to do anything don't want to. Know is b-busy." The taste in his mouth turned sour as Mort suddenly pushed his chair back and stood, rigid as he gathered his plate and utensils up. Normally he would have offered to help wash the dishes at least, but the idea died when bitterness made the charge and trampled it. "Here, will get out of hair," he mumbled as he sat the things down by the sink. "P-Prolly tired from cooking, can understand if want nap. Wouldn't want be burden."  

[Carhop Cavalier]

Gene stood up from the couch in retaliation of Mort's stiff actions, brow raised. He did not just give her an attitude. After she'd slaved over a hot stove all day?

Okay, that was going a bit far, but she'd spent a good amount of time! She just wanted to spend time with him, and she'd just been voicing her mind, and now he was acting like this? What a jerk! Ungrateful little jerk! Ugh!

"You know what, fine. Leave! Get out of my hair." Without even stopping to think about how completely off base she was being, she stormed into the bathroom, slammed the door, and turned the shower as high as she could. He wouldn't have the satisfaction of hearing her cry.  

[medigel]

Mort would get no satisfaction from any of it, not even the hollow feeling of vindication that filled him with every step that took him out of the kitchen area, closer to the door, out the door, up the stairs, out of the dorms - He never looked back.

He was in the right. She was in the right. He was wrong. She was wrong . . . No, it was just him who did everything wrong these days. Outside he snatched a rock up in passing and clenched it, letting his Death Grip forced those hard edges into his hand until he felt the skin break, the stone crumble and crack. And with a growl he threw it at the nearest weeping willow, unable to find satisfaction at even the smack it produced. Mort dug his fingers into the cuts and clenched his teeth at the dull ache, focusing only on that as he headed to his room.

It was the only pain he could fix right now at any rate.