That's true. Still, I would prefer not to leave it a question...
[that little uh is so surprising that it takes everything in Olivine's power not to react more plainly to it. this is important, and if he's not completely misreading the situation... it's not easy for Rei. the other's gaze isn't on him, and he can hear the way his chopping changes.
I invited him here. it's such a small thing, but it's so big for the other. it swells something in the priest's chest, and he smiles as he works on the dough.]
He'll be an excellent research partner, I'm sure.
[they both know that as naive as Olivine may be, he's not stupid. there's more there than just the research... but it's not something they need to discuss here and now. (little do they know, it'll be something much more important before too long.)]
I suppose so. I'm sure he'd be elated if we could find some way to help him. [deft fingers turn out the dough, soft puffs of effort escaping his lips with the quick kneading and forming of it. the rest is already starting to smell good, fragrant but mild.]
I understand. Sometimes, living is all you need... we don't need to make food that "tastes good," so long as it meets nutritional needs. But I don't think living in the forest ruined anything about you, Rei. I'm sure you'd pause at Blade's cooking too. [that's said fondly, of course. he hasn't had to eat the e-droid's cooking yet, but he's heard the stories about it.
after a moment, as he shapes the dough, stretching it to form the noodles, he exhales a soft chuckle.]
Food was... a way for me to understand the world, when I was younger. It gave me insight into traditions and histories, and into what ingredients cultures shared as a common ground. For me at least, it's become a way to share feelings and life with someone else. A short span of time given freely, without requirement.
Just knowing it helps you is enough for me, no matter how you think it tastes.
no subject
[that little uh is so surprising that it takes everything in Olivine's power not to react more plainly to it. this is important, and if he's not completely misreading the situation... it's not easy for Rei. the other's gaze isn't on him, and he can hear the way his chopping changes.
I invited him here. it's such a small thing, but it's so big for the other. it swells something in the priest's chest, and he smiles as he works on the dough.]
He'll be an excellent research partner, I'm sure.
[they both know that as naive as Olivine may be, he's not stupid. there's more there than just the research... but it's not something they need to discuss here and now. (little do they know, it'll be something much more important before too long.)]
I suppose so. I'm sure he'd be elated if we could find some way to help him. [deft fingers turn out the dough, soft puffs of effort escaping his lips with the quick kneading and forming of it. the rest is already starting to smell good, fragrant but mild.]
I understand. Sometimes, living is all you need... we don't need to make food that "tastes good," so long as it meets nutritional needs. But I don't think living in the forest ruined anything about you, Rei. I'm sure you'd pause at Blade's cooking too. [that's said fondly, of course. he hasn't had to eat the e-droid's cooking yet, but he's heard the stories about it.
after a moment, as he shapes the dough, stretching it to form the noodles, he exhales a soft chuckle.]
Food was... a way for me to understand the world, when I was younger. It gave me insight into traditions and histories, and into what ingredients cultures shared as a common ground. For me at least, it's become a way to share feelings and life with someone else. A short span of time given freely, without requirement.
Just knowing it helps you is enough for me, no matter how you think it tastes.