Yan Cuisine

Daud wasn't sure how intensive the work was to prepare meals for five to ten people, but he'd trust the man's judgement on how he spent his labor.

"Hm, as far as special ingredients, I know someone that relies heavily on cricket flour, and ground mealworm to get the energy they need. They'll usually make a 'smoothie' out of it. I've had some to try and it's... not great. Tastes like powdered and rehydrated hay and whatever else they put in."

He wasn't a picky eater by any means, but even that seemed like pushing the limit. Especially every day. "I don't know how you'd get a hold of them, or make something like it- but in my home Isle, we had a treat. It was just giant beetles- but these beetles had a diet of almost exclusively figs or apricots. They were very sweet- and they'd be candied in a glassy glaze, sometimes with icing or merengues on their backs."

He shrugged, "If not, then something with dense protein would work."

"Maybe some of them would have better cooking skills."

Fried spring rolls , and a pot of tea.

"Dinner hour is close at hand. Leave for paying customers."

His tone is still friendly despite the wording.

It seemed appropriate to use here.

"That's surprising- the food is great, better than most of the places around."

He nibbled on more scallions, contemplating that tidbit. Daud was the only one ever in house when he showed up. He just assumed that he came at odd times, when the place was not as busy. To learn he was one of the few that came back...

"A hundred years... you must have spent a long time honing your craft. It shows- well, it tastes, too."

It wasn't just that Daud wasn't picky. He knew what good food was, even great food, but rarely did he have a chance to taste it unless he was taking out a noble. He'd sneak through their kitchens, purloining tidbits and savoring some of the delicate tastes before he poisoned their meals...

By the Void, sometimes even after he'd poisoned it and the mark had perished, being immune to the odorless and tasteless toxins he carried, ashamed to let a good meal go to waste.

He casually lifts a giant wok inside the kitchen, tossing it to the sink before cleaning the table. So much work to do over the new years, and not a single people to help. the place is practically empty considering it was inbetween meals now. perhaps later there would be more.

"...You are still somewhat young. Have you considered finding another student to teach?"

"I do have a job," he says, resting his forearm on the edge of the table, "I can pay you."

There was plenty to occupy himself with in the detail at the Broken Butterfly he'd signed on for, and more pay from Ada's coffers than he knew what to do with. It wasn't like he had a crew of over a hundred assassins to provide for and train here- although, the thought of it became more appealing day by day.

He wonders how long this would last.

"I will-" he replies, taking the food in hand, "Fried scallions?"

He picked at the long breaded strips of scallions, chewing on the savory treat.

"Cooking forever," he repeated, "Well. I hope that at least this year, you'll get what you seek." Maybe, maybe not. No harm in well wishes- especially to a man that kept insisting on feeding him. Counting blessings? There was one, at least.

A lot more than that, too. But he kept those precious things close to his chest.

His own way of saying that you look jobless. He could say many things about Daud own appearance that he didn't like. but this is the new year and starting with much negativity is never a good sign for the rest of the year.

"Even when your old, its not point in retiring. The world won't allow that. You'll be bored without something to do."

He took his drink, thinking again about calm Bufu spoke of the relationships between others, and being too old for one thing or another.

Too old to have people looking, people waiting. Daud laughed a little bit.

"I wish that was the same for me. People never forgot who I was, no matter how much time passed. There were plenty looking for me- and still probably are... and not for sentimental reasons. I was really lucky that in my last days someone who had sentimental reasons was the one that found me."

Because Billie and him were the closest thing to family anyone could ask for on those damn Isles.

"Hm. I can't go back. I'm already dead- dead to rights. I don't regret how I spent my last things. Considering everything I did, how many enemies I had? It was nice to pull off one last job and drink and sleep away the pain knowing I was in good hands."

Another plate of food, as much as he wanted to cook more. There was a limit on how oil he could use outside of business hours. And he's been hitting the burners ever since he got here. When he has more business, he can do more with it though...

"I am...simply satisfied to cook, forever if possible. Perhaps that one person I seek would finally come... but so long as others are hungry, there are mouths to feed in this city."

It was true that while city-wide catastrophe could be simply righted- the experience left by it? Could not be taken away. People couldn't forget what they went through, the choices they had to make.

Death, too, was not powerless here. Some people did die- he didn't know from how, or what, but he didn't care to think about why some did and some didn't.

He crunched into another shrimp puff, feeling the outer shell give in to soft dough and succulent meat, thoughtfully considering 'pining'.

"Hm. I was counting eclipses for time. There's not anyone I pine for, and honestly? The only other person that knows the world I came from is an old rival- but from a different reality. A man that made different choices." He wouldn't consider Corvo an enemy. Neither a friend. But right now, they were the only familiar things in a strange world.

But if there was someone he did miss... "Hm. I do think about my apprentice, sometimes," he admits, "But, oh, she's better off staying where she is. As long as she's not here, I know she's still alive."

"Make her feel welcome. At the very least. If they are someone important to you, could you do anything else when the both of you are stuck in this city."

"I'm far too old to have people waiting for me, looking for me. And the person I want to see....perhaps they might come. But they never bothered to see me, even in the same city."

"Being wise is knowing what to do with your remaining days. Though with how this city operates, do you believe that we cannot die by old age anymore? Its certainly a thought."

Daud asked, musingly. There were different variations of 'yes'- depending on what was meant by the old owl-like man before him.

The shrimp puffs, deep fried, was a good way to greet the new year in the cold harbor weather. Daud had only been in Spirale a few months, but those months had been filled with unexpected things, and trials that even the likes of him had not been prepared to deal with.

So, what better way to reflect than to pay visit to the man that had greeted him on arrival, and take a meal in the silence of the restaurant?

"I have learned, that such events lack impact the way a catastrophe does. A true one... after all, these masters of the city will fix the place right after."

A rooster crows, the coming of night. He lights more lanterns, handmade ones that are not powered by electricity, giving his restaurant a rather cozy feel then with artificial lighting.

"I believe it wise to stop looking at eclipses, to believe that someone you know might come..it is a sad state of affair, to keep pining for people you desire to talk to."

He brings to the front a giant wok the size of one half of his body.

“So, you’re telling me in this whole world, there’s no monsters at all?” She crossed her arms and watched as he cut the meat in front of her. It was hard to believe that such a large place was devoid of conflict.

Unfortunately for this old fellow, Mina was asking him a whole slew of questions. "So...from what I understand...there's absolutely no brigadiers here at all?" Although it was a different world, she still had a hard time understanding that this world wasn't in dire need of battle chefs like her world was.

His hands were focus on cutting out the goose in his kitchen, every slice delicate and plated with precision and speed. More ingredients meant more things to order, his restaurant grows more and more.

"Take any seat, I'll be back."

With his other staff members taking their breaks, its just him right now inside the place. A few minutes later, he's out bringing in a pot of tea and the menu, placing it carefully on the table.