video | un: Hat Guy, forward dated to the 16th

[featheradrift]

[ The video starts focused on an empty seat in some random non-descript fast food restaurant. It's abruptly swept in blue as the sender crosses the front of the camera to sit down in an obvious harrumph of displeasure. One leg over the other, a young, beautiful man with a wide brimmed hat looks at the camera with irritation written all over his face as he waves a box of crackers in front of him. ]

Disgusting. You call the stuff this city offers food?

[ He tosses the box aside, and shifts forward to pick up his phone. The view blurs a bit, before it steadies onto a table full of a variety of food. There are nine dishes in total: tahchin, fatteh, murtabak, ratatouille, chazuke, roujiamo, stirfried vegetables, choumeiji sakura mochi, and even opera cake. It's a wide variety of dishes from various regions—a veritable banquet, and each of them have been plated carefully to be presented in the most appealing way possible. Whoever cooked them clearly cared for every aspect of the dish.

With a voice full of disdain, the Wanderer speaks up again, leaving the video trained on the food. ]

The quality of the ingredients is subpar, but this is way better than anything this place could give you.

[ He takes the phone again, and directs it to himself once more. Then he sits back, this time crossing his arms. ]

Let's make a deal. I make whatever dish you want me to, provided I know it. A recipe would suffice too. You give me information about the city.

[ And then he sits back to wait for responses. ]

Comments

video. @kaveh

[fussiest]

[ kaveh looks. ]

Fatteh. [ the word is said with equal parts admiration, fascination and unbridled excitement. ] And here I thought I was the only one who would know the recipe to it. The look of the dish is exquisite as well. You've a hidden talent to you. Though I suppose I ought not be surprised; you are Lesser Lord Kusanali's right hand, after all. Does she like that dish?

[featheradrift]

[ Did Alhaitham not say anything to this man? He figured they must have been communicating, especially when the drifter had asked if the scribe wanted him to keep an eye out for certain ingredients.

Whatever. Not his business. ]

The Scribe gave me his recipe when I asked, with all the modifications he made for this place. I just tweaked it a little more.

[ How does he figure that the Wanderer cooks for Nahida? He doesn't—on most days. Only when he deigns to cook at all does he usually treat the Dendro Archon to food. ]

If she has a preference for it, she hasn't told me.

[fussiest]

[ the events of the last three hours catches up to him. kaveh looks, and then: ]

His recipe? Please, [ kaveh laughs, ] he doesn't have a recipe for fatteh. Alhaitham wouldn't even bother knowing how to soak chickpeas for the right amount of time, let alone season the yoghurt. No, that fatteh recipe was mine, and before it was mine, it belonged to my late father. [ it's funny, how kaveh has gone six months without mentioning him, and now - it's as if a cork in the grief has been pulled, and all the nostalgia rushes in with it. both the sorrow and the guilt - but also the good. so much of the good. kaveh misses him. he's letting himself miss him. he says: ] You've tasted the recipe for yourself, right? What do you think?

[featheradrift]

[ His father. The man who had died in quicksand because of Sachin, twenty some years ago. He remembers what he'd learned during the Interdarshan Championship. It's interesting, the journey a recipe travels through the ages.

He wonders for a moment—would the recipe still exist, if its creator was wiped from Teyvat? Would history simply assign another person as its creator, or would it vanish forever? But it's an idle thought, and there's no noticeable pause in his answer. ]

It's good. You've done a good job finding substitutes in this city.

[ The few changes he made were only to suit his own palate more. ]

[fussiest]

[ kaveh's smile softens around its edges. ]

It was the most I could do, really. What I wouldn't give for better quality chickpeas, for example, and would I wouldn't give for proper Aleppo pepper. Still, I'm glad you've made use of it.

Now, what's this about an exchange? Have there been people withholding information from you about this city? That doesn't sound like the nosy denizens of this place.

[featheradrift]

[ Withholding? Kaveh's got an interesting view of what's going on here. ]

Are you saying they'd simply tell me whatever I wanted to know if I just asked?

[ That's a horrendous idea, surely. It would be unthinkable to receive without an exchange.]

[fussiest]

Well, yes. [ kaveh says. ] Actually, a lot of people will chase after you with information to boot. It's better than you stumbling into something that will harm you unknowingly. It's much like Sumeru, or rather the non-academic parts of Sumeru. Just the regular, everyday life that comes with sharing and mutual assistance.

[featheradrift]

[ He really doesn't like the idea of that. Of just giving, or just receiving, without reciprocating in turn. It's not what he's familiar with. In an alien city with people from different worlds, how is it that they've chosen cooperation, not opposition?

Ah, but it was never the humans that screwed things up, was it? Not Niwa, or the people of Tatarasuna. Not his small, ill friend whom he'd thought of as family, but had ultimately left him alone. It had been the gods, the people with more power than sense—the ones who reached to take what shouldn't be theirs.

Compared to them? Humans were infinitely more trustworthy. ]

Then you can say this is my contribution to the group.

[fussiest]

[ this is the contribution to the group, the man in the hat says. he says it as if this is the only contribution he can provide. the food looks resplendent, kaveh thinks. calling it a meal does not do it justice. it's a feast, for both the eyes and the soul. and yes, kaveh thinks, for the soul, because many people here may not have seen food from their own cultures for some time. kaveh recognises the inazuman foods, he recognises the liyuen foods, the dishes from sumeru. all of these things speak to someone's heart, he's sure.

so what kaveh says is this: ]

Then, let me provide something back to you for your efforts. I have a timeline of each and every event that has happened thus far since our arrival to this city. I have in me a recount of all the strange effects the city is liable to cause, their locations, and how to reverse them if there is a solution. I have in me details about the buildings here and the layouts. All of this can be easily verified by any number of people here. It will get you started.

In return, I'd like to try your food, and I'd like to ask you for just one other favour. Will you hear it?

[featheradrift]

[ It's more than he's expecting, what Kaveh's offering. What everyone has offered so far. That everyone is so friendly and cooperative with each other must be due to the influence of some outstanding individuals who have begrudgingly made this place home, and he thinks he would not be surprised if Kaveh was one such individual.

Light of Kshahrewar indeed. ]

No need to ask. ...I was going to invite you and the others from Sumeru after I was done obtaining information.

[ An admission to... What really, he doesn't know. But it still feels like an admission, to say that they'd been the intended recipients. Because he had no intention of eating any of it, really, but he doesn't like the idea of wasting his efforts. ]

What do you want me to do?

[fussiest]

[ oh. ]

Oh.

[ kaveh's smiles have never been a subtle thing, never water over stone or the grind of a prayer wheel - it has always been the reach of hands for a burning sun to pull it down to the mortal expanse of a world well-walked. kaveh smiles with the dawning understanding of a man beholding a minor marvel, a brilliant single vicissitude worth straying from a carved path. this young man had been planning to trust. ]

I wanted your help, actually. You cook well. That much is evident. There aren't that many in this city who do, and I was thinking that there may be many people missing the foods from their homes or from their won culture. We're hosting a gala called 'Sunlight in Midnight' in the upcoming weeks. I'd like you to help be a cook there.

It's hardly glamorous, there's no pay, and the hours are grueling. It's an unreasonable ask, all things considered - but will you think of it?

[featheradrift]

[ He tilts his hat down, to avoid the smile that is no doubt gracing the architect's face. He can hear in the way he intones that exclamation of surprise, and in the words that follow after—like he's marveling something incredible, something wondrous and lovely. But there is no such thing before him—just a worthless puppet. The feeling claws at his chest. ]

You aren't doing a good job convincing me it's worth my time.

[ ... ]

When and where?

[fussiest]

[ when and where, the young man says. kaveh grins. ]

There's a young lady named Ghost that you ought to talk to; she's managing a lot of the logistics for the event - the food, the entertainment and so forth. I believe she'll send a message on the network shortly - ah, that's the city network. It operates like a more visual and primitive Akasha terminal.

[featheradrift]

[ It's no small wonder Nahida thinks fondly of him. He feels like he's starting to see what she sees—the way the architect takes his knowledge, his drive, and his energy, and pulls an oasis from under a desert. He is much like the sun, but at the same time, he is more than that. ]

Alright. When I see that message, I'll let her know.