theroleplaybin | Gotta eat to live, gotta steal to eat, tell you all about when I've got the time!

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Gotta eat to live, gotta steal to eat, tell you all about when I've got the time!

Some people may look forward to the end of their work day, but a certain rat always hated closing time. It had been another successful day at La Ratatouille restaurant. Remy had been completely in the culinary zone - as always - to the point that he hadn't even thought given thought to if he'd spend the night back with the colony, or at Linguini's home.

Hmm, did it seem Linguini had been eating well at home, or did he need Remy to make sure he got some quality meals? That might be the deciding factor. He glanced out the window at his friend, who was not above still taking out the garbage after the restaurant closed, trying to gauge- Wait a second, something was out there. Oh, Linguini hadn't seen the bright and furry creature, but Remy had - if only for a second - and he was instantly torn for a reaction.

On the one hand, pests! At his restaurant! But then, there'd been a time when Remy himself had been just seconds away from stealing bread, desperate and nearly starving... Maybe he'd have to see this thief to make a judgement call. After telling Colette that he'd be there a bit longer tonight, and asking she pass that on to Linguini as well, Remy got down to the ground and ran out the door (on just two legs, of course) as Linguini came back in.

"Hey!" he called, darting around and through the trash - ew ew ew ew, it smelled so bad he could almost taste it. "Hey, get back here!"

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The bright flash of color Remy had seen had lasted only a second, the... creature mostly covered in a shawl of forgotten fabric- a lost motorcycle cover, a blanket pulled off a line, who could even tell anymore -that he kept tucked around him. This helped camouflage him as he waited in among the refuse for the Silly Creature to go back inside. Just had to tip this garbage can a bit and-

"Hey, get back here!"

He let out a startled yelp, nearly falling into said bin, going all fours atop it, "dog against the bath" style. Breathing heavily, he glanced down, blinked a moment at the rat-

Then took a dive further into the garbage area, only his tail- a muddied orange with a still-brilliant puff of pinkish-purple on the end -flashing out behind him as he went.

Remy recognized the fear on the creature's face; he'd felt it on a few occasions, but the most memorable would always be trapped in a glass jar, held just feet above the water. If he could help- Whatever, whoever this was... It only seemed right to do so.

Even if that meant going deeper into the trash, as he followed the creature. "I won't hurt you, I just need to talk to you!" he called, zigzagging around particularly disgusting pieces of garbage.

Remy wouldn't see him but he'd hear him, knocking about in the refuse. A can jostle here, some old bottles there. Then a crate, the slatted sort to carry produce, knocked over onto its top and scooted backward, and by the darkness inside it was clear the whatever-it-was had taken refuge there.

"Look I-I-I'm sorry! I was hungry." Those frightened eyes blinked out at him; the crate scooted backwards until it hit the wall. "Just leave me alone and I'll be outta your hair."

"No, I-" Remy cut himself off with a weary sigh. Didn't anyone ever listen the first time, to anything? "I'm really not going to hurt you. I meant that." he said, approaching the crate with slow caution - not out of concern for himself so much as not wanting to scare whoever-it-was even more.

"If you're hungry, I can get you better food." He didn't imagine Gusteau anymore, but he knew if he did, the ghost-chef would be reminding him that a cook needed to earn their way to food. But... Something about this trash-thief wasn't saying "cook" to Remy.

Those big, round eyes among the lumpy shadow blinked, and he edged forward just slightly. Hands held the slats, ones that were grimy in the "it's impossible to keep clean on the streets" kinda way.

"You can? ...Like what?"

Remy was no stranger to that kind of grime, though it had been a while and he still flinched a bit when he saw those hands.

"Well, we'll have to get you cleaned up first, but I'm Head Chef of the restaurant here. And believe me, scraps and garbage - even from my restaurant - don't compare to freshly-made cauliflower gratin. I just cooked up a batch before we closed for my family, but they didn't take it all." He smiled, which was so easy to do when he was talking about food, and beckoned for the guy to come closer.

"Come on. You can wash up and eat, and then we'll figure out something more long-term."

He still seemed hesitant, glancing up toward the building a moment. His eyes closed and he could be heard drawing in a long breath. Then he released the slats, so he could pick them up from underneath and creep forward, out into the open; more or less, since he still kept his shawl on. Still, Remy would be able to get glimpses of underneath: bare feet, a stripe of orange fur here, a bit of what looked like a vest there, the rounded snout out past his eyes.

"Sure, that'd help a lot!... Thank you."

Remy tilted his head for a moment, blinking curiously. He'd seen all sorts of beings come to their little restaurant, or to Gusteau's back in the day, but never anything with this silhouette. Whoever this was, they had his interest, and Remy smiled again.

"Sure. Feeding people is part of being a cook," he said said simply, though not without warmth to his words. He started to wind his way out through the trash, and he kept looking over his shoulder to make sure the other was still with him. "My name's Remy, by the way."

He was certainly still with him, carefully picking his own way out of the garbage.

"I'm Gobo, Gobo Fraggle. So, what kinds of things do you cook in your restaurant?"

Remy had to stop himself before he answered, at first. He knew from talking to his family that not everyone appreciated him launching into a long spiel loaded with culinary terms and specific notions. He'd manage to keep it simple - for now.

"We're open for lunch and dinner, though I'm guessing that's not exactly what you mean. My sous-chef, Colette, and I make a lot." There was more staff, though they weren't there on all days. Remy may have his demon and human forms now, but he generally felt more comfortable in his original rat body, and the other cooks were really only comfortable when he was entirely human - none of them even knew Remy was ever simply a rat in the kitchen, and had been born with only that. Rats had such an unfairly bad reputation.

"We make sandwiches, soups, roasts, stews, desserts... About anything you can think of, aside from breakfast."

"Wow..." He blinked up and around, again sniffing the air. His stomach, already empty, let out an intense growl- laughing weakly, he pulled the shawl around him a bit more.

"That all sounds really, really good."

Remy chuckled softly. "I guess it does- And it should!" He stopped outside the kitchen doors, realizing that in his rush to get the story with this thief - with Gobo - he hadn't thought through getting back inside, if he'd need to. And now he did need to, so there was really only one solution.

He glanced over at Gobo. "Don't freak out, I'll be right back down here," he instructed, before he closed his eyes for focus. There was a soft glow of light, and the air seemed to sparkle and grow warm around Remy as he transformed into a more human-liked rat, not much taller than Gobo, but tall enough to reach, and opened the door.

Edited 2020-06-24 23:01 (UTC)

He backed up, but it seemed more to give it room to happen than any sort of fear. Interest glimmered in his eyes like the reflection of that magic, and he watched in wonder as Remy transformed and opened the door.

"Whoa... Have you always been able to do that?"

Remy's first priority was to shift back to his natural form, but once he had, he looked at Gobo with surprise. Most just accepted, assumed he was a rat demon. Gobo's curiosity? It just made Remy more curious about him; where had he come from and just what was he?

"No, actually. I got some help to be able to do that," he explained, leading Gobo through the (thankfully still open) door to his and Linguini's office - Linguini did own the restaurant building, after all - and gesturing to a second door within. "That's the employee bathroom. Go wash up, and then you can eat." He paused, then smirked lightly. "And maybe answer a question I have."

Gobo looked around them as they walked through the building, his tail turning little circles behind him. When Remy directed him he turned that way, then back with a nod.

"Uh- sure! You got it. Be right back, then."

When Gobo re-emerged, cleaned up and without his cover-up wrap, he took Remy by surprise once again. The only thing he'd really had a decent view of before was Gobo's tail, and it looked like every bit of him was just as fuzzy and extraordinarily colorful as that appendage. He looked him up and down, and even walked a circle around him... No, he'd certainly never seen anyone who looked like this, not even remotely.

"What are you, anyway?" he asked when he'd come back around to stand in front of Gobo.

He'd come out still drying his hands off, and stopped when Remy started doing the lookaround. Blinking and following him with his head for a moment, until that made him dizzy, he glanced down at the rat and shrugged helplessly.

"A Fraggle...? I know not many up here have ever heard of us, but..."

That wasn't exactly a good explanation, causing Remy to frown a bit.

"Okay," he said as he head over and pulled himself up to one of the counters using the pulley-system elevator. Once he'd gotten up, he looked back down to Gobo, gesturing for him to climb up however he may find how. "That doesn't tell me much, though. Where are you from? What's the story on Fraggles?"

Gobo glanced around a moment, then was able to hoist himself up toward the counter, using his tail as a counterbalance.

"I'm from Fraggle Rock. It's an underground cave system where we all live. Fraggles are... well, I don't know. We play games and make music, explore, stuff like that."

Remy considered this as he plated up some of the gratin and used one arm and his tail to push the plate towards Gobo. There wasn't much information there, still, and yet he felt he had a window into this world just from the way Gobo spoke of it, more than what he said. It was either so similar to above-ground society that it wasn't worth remarking on the noted differences, or - as he suspected - it was so simple that Gobo didn't have ways to compare it to life up here. He'd been stealing food from the garbage, after all.

"Underground... So you're far from home."

"Pretty far, yeah." Ooh, that looked and smelled so good. He picked it up, savoring it a moment before starting to dig in, continuing to talk- thankfully between mouthfuls.

"My uncle explores the world, something other Fraggles have never really done. Except me. I explored everywhere down at the Rock so now I'm out here too, trying to make a name for myself." A bit of a chuckle. "I haven't left France yet but... I'll get there, someday."

He smiled to watch Gobo enjoying his food, but his smile faded into a more awed, thoughtful sort of expression as Gobo started to tell his story. Wanting to make a name for oneself. He knew what how that felt - and the challenges that came with it. He, personally, had come to accept that he wasn't in the spotlight or even well-known. That's how he'd started, after all, just wanting to do what he loved. To cook. But there'd been a while, when Linguini was first climbing to fame, where he'd felt overlooked. It had stung.

"Impressive," he said, smile returning. "That's really impressive, although I can't say I understand wanting to leave France. Are you planning on stealing your meals all around the world?"

"To tell you the truth," he paused to hand back the dish- man he WAS hungry, wasn't he??, "I hadn't thought about it... We Fraggles always just take from the edges anyway. Outside of Fraggle Rock there's a garden that's owned by a friend of mine, and whatever we'd need, we'd go get it. Sure he wasn't always a friend but- oh he is now, eh? That's how it goes."

Yeah, definitely the "simple life" interpretation, Remy decided. But, before he could get into warning Gobo about what theft could bring about, he wanted to know just one thing, one crucial piece of information.

"How was the gratin?"

"It was amazing!" He curled his tail up behind him, giving Remy a bright smile. "One of the best things I'd ever eaten. And believe me, Fraggles know vegetables."

Remy wasn't exactly surprised to hear that, between how Gobo had wolfed that down, and - well, he knew he was a great chef. But he was still beaming with pride when Gobo said it.

"Vegetables, huh? I wish I'd made my ratatouille. That's the house specialty; I bet you'd love it. That and my pot-au-feu, unless of course Fraggles only eat vegetables and the like." He shrugged a bit, seeming to remember his humility only then.

"Thank you. I'm glad you liked the dish."

"Well.. yes, we do. The Gorgs only grew vegetables, and down inside the Rock there's all kinds of natural plants and mushrooms and stuff to eat. Fruits and vegetables are all I know."

He glanced around them, then snickered a little and looked back. "If those words you said are as good as what you made though, then I think I'd eat almost anything."

"Oh, man, have you been missing out! I mean, fruits and vegetables are crucial to balanced dishes, not to mention highly useful and delicious, but the proteins tend to be the backbone of a meal."

He paused to rub his chin thoughtfully. "You know, if you're going to leave France and see the whole world, you might want to be familiar with a wider array of food. You can minimize the culture shock that way, for one thing." For another, Remy couldn't think of anything better than culinary exploration. "There's not just animal proteins, there's all sorts of ingredients out there. Even the really artificial stuff is worth knowing about."

"Well, I dunno, Remy..." He waved his hands a bit. "We'll see? Maybe a little at a time.

"I definitely like the idea of more food, though." Gobo snickered softly, then gave him a smile. "And you're right, about wanting to really get to know other parts of the world. That's why I'm out here really, learning about Outer Space, how it differs from life down at the Rock."

Remy shrugged. "Well, sure, you don't want to introduce too much that's new in your diet at once. And I mean, you don't have to try any of it, but I figure, if you're going to see the whole world, you might as well taste it, too."

Wait a second-

"Outer Space? Is that what Fraggles call it up here? Because that's what I'd like to know - what's different between here and where you're from." After all, Remy's curiosity wasn't limited just to the culinary arts.

"Yeah! It is. And there's a lot different between Fraggle Rock and up here. We don't have anything even remotely like the streets out there, for one thing. We have tunnels and pathways, but definitely not rock roads like those. And the... big rollie things that run on them."

He looked up, considering- which reminded him of something else too. "And our lights don't do that," a point upward, "it's just fire, or glowing mushrooms, or the Ditzies even. We can't see 'em, but all together their bodies light our caves. Any motors and things we run ourselves or with flowing water, and the caves keep their own temperature. And everyone up here is always... rushing places. It's loud, but a totally different kind of sound than down at Fraggle Rock. There it's mostly music, up here it's just... Noise."

He paused, waving his hands. "Oh but it's fascinating too! It glows up here at night like nowhere in the Rock! Sometimes if I get out in the country I can see way, way more stars too. And every now and then it gets boring down there, and pretty routine. Out here there's something new every day, even when it's something scary."

Dépaysement - that feeling that wasn't necessarily homesickness, but certainly some out-of-place newness, some bewilderment at how different things were in a foreign place. Remy had felt it that first night in Paris, running through the walls and on the rooftops. Until he'd realized where he was, he'd been so overwhelmed...

"You know, it is really different here in Paris compared to Fraggle Rock, I'm sure. It's really different from the countryside, too, elsewhere in France. I mean... I'm a rat. We don't usually leave our nests, as my dad used to love pointing out. We live in sewers or abandoned attics or wherever we can get by." A pause, then, and he smiled, looking off past Gobo at nothing in particular. "But I decided I wanted that to change. The point is, though, that I know how hard change can be - how amazing what you're doing is." His smile grew. "Like I said before, it's impressive."

Gobo listened quietly, nodding a little as Remy went on. Not leaving the nest... He could understand that. Every Fraggle that ever lived seemed to still be down at the Rock, or that Cave place, or any number of tunnels underground. Then Outer Space was found and, well... He felt like a Gorg trying to fit into a Doozer dome, now.

"I don't know that I'd call it impressive..." A bit of humility of his own. "I'm just following what I really wanna do."

Remy's grin remained in place with Gobo's modesty. "Well, sure, but that's what I did too, and what I've found is that- Not everyone wants that kind of thing. Wants more. And sure, that's fine for them, I guess... But some people will get in the way of things they don't understand."

He shrugged. "That's the reason I have my other forms, for one thing. People don't think rats, especially rats like me, belong in a kitchen."

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Gotta eat to live, gotta steal to eat, tell you all about when I've got the time!

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