Kitchen Nightmares [Caly/Yaksha]

Dusting off her hands, the young woman smirked in satisfaction as she delivered the finishing touch to her little project. Amidst the uneventful days within the decimated city, she wanted to give a go at building restoration using her abilities. She decided to start small, and what would be a better place than a small restaurant? It wasn't buried in rock, so that helped the workload a little bit. Occasionally she'd look up, curious if a certain someone noticed her as she worked, only to sigh and keep working.

She was clearing and restoring for at least two hours, mostly only taking so much longer due to trying to figure out how the building should even look as she went along. She didn't want to stick the building back together and it looked like hastily a put together, fragile rock monument, right? Plus she needed to make sure the kitchen equipment even still worked, which was successful when she supplied her own power to them.

Soon she was sitting in a clean kitchen, looking around with a smile on her face. It was a little different than how it likely looked before, some parts having more of her.. Fantastical touch to it, as she would sit down at one of the restored tables, opening a small gateway and pulling out a bubble, popping it and cracking open what she brought - A rather standard American cookbook. Calypso honestly never cooked before, so.. Would it hurt to try on her own? She had a learned understanding of how all the equipment worked and how portions worked, but.. She never actually did it.

Looking up at the sky, her brow furrowed,

..Wonder if he'd teach me?

Yaksha had been fairly active in the city of Jefferson, simply moving rubble and doing his part to examine the surroundings to find out what the scouts had been looking at and for recently. The city was a relatively simple place for him to examine, as he went about the arduous task of doing countless calculations in the back of his head, trying to run thousands upon thousands of hypothetical scenarios over and over. There was so much going on, and so much to consider as possibilities in the near future. The entire country of America was becoming the Wild Wild West once more, and there was the added caveat now that they knew quite well what advanced opposition lay out there.

How was he going to ensure that when the dust cleared and people were ready to resume their normal lives, that there would be a place for him and his kind? America had been a place that hollows moved about relatively freely with the approval of Shadow Fall, but they had still been little better than pets, or pests; people treated them much the same as when they saw deer on the highway. There was no true interaction between hollow and man, or even hollow and demon.

And so he had taken to delving into the simplest resource he had; the space between spaces, the shaving of reality off of the infinite supply of possibility. The realm where none dared trek for long, and everyone simply considered it a place to get where they were going. But Yaksha had nowhere he wanted to go; he was already exactly where he wanted to be. He simply wanted others to stand alongside him.

He had been taking the habit lately of tearing garganta without much purpose or intent, simply seeing where they led; perhaps one in a hundred made their way to somewhere totally unexpected, like isolated portions of the Rukongai, but each time he made sure to close those connections before they became a significant issue. Those times that he did find himself staring into the churning miasma of potential, the inky blackness of infinity, he would allow himself to split off, ever so slightly, and see how long the connection between himself and the splintered memories he allowed to roam lasted.

Thus far, his current record was 100 years.

He was quite content to wile away his times with this new experiment, up until the moment he realized that Calypso was in the process of trying to repair a building. To what end, exactly? Making the scouts feel more at home, and providing them a place to rest and regain their morale? Something he'd considered for a little bit; letting them explore more of the city and return to their headquarters less often felt like a very good way to get a better sense of what their objective was here. But why would the demon girl of all people be doing it?

He finally found her after a few moments of scrambled confusion, while he tried to sense the area around him and realized that the 'him' was getting somewhat murky. There were a lot of eyes and ears projecting for him right now, and he had spent a little too long in one place, just trying to expand his horizons. He stood up, stumbled, nearly fell, and finally managed to catch himself in time, wings flaring outwards as he canted his head to the left, then right, beginning to test the air around them for the presence of demons.

Bad idea, as this was Jefferson city, and that presence was damn near everywhere. He almost felt his head constricted in a vice for a split second, before he narrowed his focus only to the Asthavon, and managed to single her out relatively quickly. She was at...a restaurant. A place she likely had never really interacted with before now, so something understandable enough to be curious about.

"You do realize of course that trying to explain the concept of food preparation as a specialized form of labor would fall extremely flat in the demon world, right? Can't you just create fully-functional food with your magic as is, and skip the tedious process of browning or basting? What purpose would this serve towards your precious goal of making your home better?"