#(nicholas.)

La Boucherie NYC is a classic French brasserie restaurant, run by executive chef Nicholas Matisse ( when he isn't traveling the world for the sake of network television. )

The presentation slides of the menu can be found here. Pictures are below the cut.

Good luck with that. Unlike Eden, I’m not a weak bitch. You can’t take me down that easily.

@nicholashillecrest is doubting us

It was worse than anything Iris had seen before. 

She had seen war, watched families torn apart, watched villages being raided. She had seen natural disasters take victims and even helped open portals into alternate planes where it was so hot your skin would melt off your face. But this... this chaotic indulgence of horror, the sheer amount of power and destruction they were up against...

It was more than daunting. 

And yet they endured. This was the most awe-inspiring part of the mortal spirit. Despite everything that happened around her that was horrible and unforgiving, Iris only felt herself more inspired and steeled into action than before. She knew Bahamut guided her magic, be it divine or arcane in nature, just as he guided the sword and shield that had found its way to her side. 

Nothing was coincidence, in this life. She believed that, fully. When iris had found herself in the company of the King of Swanica, she had felt her deva push her in the direction of his steed immediately. For some reason, the Gods wanted her and Nicholas together, defending their world (for it was Bahamut’s world, too). 

So when he voiced his worries, iris didn’t blame Nicholas in the slightest. She was no true healer, but she did her best with the training she received and the guidance she had from those wiser than her on the other side. Iris smiled to herself, tightening the cloth binding on Nicholas’s thigh, before looking up and leaning into his personal space to answer him. 

“Of course we do, Nicholas,” she answered with ease, also forgetting to address him as required (with ease). She raised a scorched hand, raw with the overuse of her magic, to pat his cheek thoughtfully before pulling back and resting on her knees. 

“I was with the Starchildren. Just before this,” Iris said with a nod and a smile, glancing in the direction of the monastery where she had come from prior, “they are... they really are heroes. I thought I was good, but I could barely scrape the surface of what your younger brother brought to the table as their arcane support.” 

She looked down then, allowing her body to relax if only for this short moment. Iris closed her eyes, mind focusing on the magical formulas running through her mind. Using her arcane recovery, she refreshed her magic reserves, spellbook clipped onto her hip glowing briefly in confirmation. She opened her eyes again, offering her other, less burnt hand to the King.

“They’ll be here. Have faith in them, and if not them...” she trailed off, looking skyward, “Bahamut himself. He brought us all together for a reason. I don’t believe He would do so, just for us all to fail together.”

Standing, she helped the crippled King to his feet. Iris braced herself for the added weight of his armour, gritting her teeth as a tired laugh escaped her. 

@nicholxswalker​