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"Oh no," Lark gestured that Roch should have a seat at either the dining table or one of the more plush chairs that were in the living area. "M'mum made sure I was right settled before she left. Packed to the brim with food, we are. More than Ben 'n I could ever eat by ourselves." Lark tossed her hat on the table and removed her vest, hanging it across the back of one of the dining chairs. She moved immediately to the sink.

"Buggered if I know why, the ghoul don't eat much," Ben grouched, parking himself in the area of the room that was free of furniture. He rocked back on his tail and eyed Roch. Interrogation time.

"So, Roch, tell ol' Ben what brings you to Amityville, yeah?" He raised his voice over the clanging of pots and pans.

"Don't scare him away, Ben," Lark chided the kangaroo, grinning at Roch while she filled a pot with water. "'e's a little over-protective at times," she continued with a shrug.

Lark, caught up in the kitchen, was humming a bit of a swanky tune as she moved here and there. Since she was obviously preoccupied, Ben was the one answering most of Roch's questions.

"Aye," the buck nodded, idly grooming his cheeks and nose, "Lark is the first shaman in her family," Ben grunted proudly, sending a fond look Lark's way. "N'the first reaper in her fam that doesn't have no weapon." His dark eyes narrowed and he glanced at Roch, lowering his voice. "She's a real bobby dazzler, she is, but Lark's a bit... touchy 'bout it. S'one of the reasons her da was so rough on her growin' up."

He cleared his throat, sending Lark a sideways glance before returning to the conversation at hand, "Dag shame 'bout it. She's a good chit, too right."

"Lark's entire fam is grims. Her mum, da, aunties and uncles, gramps and grams. All of them is grims." Ben shook his head and looked a little sad for a moment. "All of them is grims and all of them is good at what they do, too. And then 'long came Lark -- she had one thing goin' against 'er from the right start." Ben took a long pause to scratch behind his ear with a long claw.

"Lark's a ghoul. Isaac -- s'er dad -- wanted a boil."

Ben would probably be terribly reprimanded if Lark knew all of the secrets he was divulging to the reaper.

"Ben, you bein' nice to Roch, I hope?" Lark's bright voice rang out from the kitchen where she was busy knocking around pots and pans. A few different aromas had started to fill the spacious dorm room -- spaghetti, for one, mixed with a few other garlicky scents.

Ben nodded. He was liking this boil more and more, and could already tell that he'd make Lark a right good friend.

"S'what I told 'er," Ben looked utterly pleased. "She makes a few more good mates like you, I'm hopin' she'll never want t'go back home." Ben flipped his lip in a grin, content.

"Aww, thanks, Roch," Lark approached the boils, pink-cheeked and grinning ear to ear. "Can I get y'anythin' t'drink, mate?"

Lark brought out a soda for Roch before hurrying back out to the kitchen.

"Nah, mate, nearly done in here," she laughed, carrying one big bowl full of a rich red sauce to the table before heading back for the pasta. Next came plates and silverware, a few more sodas, some grated cheese. Finally, on her last trip with arms laden with bread, Lark jerked her head in the direction of the small table and matching pair of chairs.

"Mum had sent me in with tons'a food," Lark grinned, gesturing at the bounty. "I had th'sauce made and frozen so I could use it later. Much easier t'buy things in bulk n'then just cook a huge batch so you can freeze it."

"She taught me how t'cook," Lark admitted, looking pleased. "Whenever she was home, anyway." The ghoul waved a hand, indicating that Roch should seat himself so that she could dish him up before serving herself.

Ben shimmered softly, lifting a clawed paw to his temple before giving Roch a little wave. "G'day," he chuckled before vanishing completely.

"Figgered we could do wit' a little silence while we eat," Lark smiled. "Ben's a right yapper. I can summon 'im again when we're done eatin' if you wanted t'keep talkin' attim."

Lark chuckled as she dished up a heaping plateful of noodles and sauce for Roch before she added a quarter loaf of bread to the pile of food that threatened to spill over his plate. She then sat back in her chair and added an equally impressive pile of food to her own dish before picking up her fork.

"Sharpen 'him?" Lark shook her head. "Nah. Sometimes -- he'd kill me if he knew I'd tolja this -- sometimes he files his claws to points, though. He says its fer fightin', but I reckon he likes lookin' pretty for the ghouls." She smiled at Roch before forking a heapful of spaghetti into her mouth.

"S'good," she mumbled behind a napkin, reaching for her bread. She swallowed before answering his other question. "Ben eats. He's got a real sweet tooth. He don't need'ta eat. I think he jus' likes doin' it." Lark tore a hunk of bread off of the piece she held. It was so good!

"No, hah. Ben likes ghouls -- don't matter what they look like. He ah.. almost seems t'prefer 'em to boils. Yer a rare gem," she grinned, "He likes ya. It's good." Lark's shoulders lifted in a shrug as she gestured at the food. She'd been able to hold her own against Roch, tucking away a fair bit before she'd had to give up. It pleased her that he'd cleaned his plate.

"I'll pack ya up some extras t'take home?"