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Ching Tai, Thursday Evening

Lydia hoped everyone was in the mood for Chinese food this week, because she was, and had therefore exercised her executive privilege to decide they would be revisiting Ching Tai. She needed crab rangoons, all right? She needed them. And this way she didn't have to fret about anyone having difficulty finding the place. Win-win.

Welcome to Supper Club, everyone! Ching Tai is open!

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Liliana had received word that several of ~~her~~ the villagers who rented farmland from her had been injured in werewolf attacks. Which was quite odd, as it wasn't the time of year for than and rarely did such things happen in Stensia. Peasants had to be wary of vampires in Stensia, not werewolves.

Still, she was back on the island and there was certainly nothing she had to do about it, so it was simply a mystery, better mulled over at a different time.

That was rather rude of the werewolves, if you asked Lydia, but no one had asked Lydia.

"Ms. Vess," Lydia said with a curtsey. "I'm so pleased you could join us. I trust you've been well?"

"Hmm, what was that? Oh, hello, Lydia," Liliana said. "Yes, darling, and yourself? Enjoying classes and like?"

Kind of a vague question, considering Liliana didn't notice - or particularly care - what students generally got themselves up to.

"Oh, yes," Lydia assured her. "I feel that with Mr. Scientia's instruction I am almost certainly prepared to not make anything in the kitchen explode."

Almost.

"Proud of you, darling, that's worlds better than my own skills in the kitchen. I have learned statecraft and fleshcraft and leechcraft and even what some might consider witchcraft, but handicrafts remain outside of my skillset."

Edited 2025-03-27 19:17 (UTC)

"I've only the witchcraft, I'm afraid," Lydia said, lowering her voice so Captain Flint wouldn't hear, because for some reason she persisted in the delusion that he would care. Lydia was good at delusions. "Our cook tried to teach me some simple receipts before I left home, but those all assumed I would be cooking in the sort of kitchen we had then, not two hundred years in the future." Also, that she would cook, which was bold of anyone to assume even in light of the fact that the Wickhams had not been able to afford servants in Newcastle.

"Our cook never even bothered to try, when I was a girl," Liliana said with a laugh. "And when I was older and on my own, if I couldn't have servants, then I would simply dine out."

It had helped that for most of her life, she hadn't needed to eat, and so would only do so if she wished to. The past fifty years where that had ceased to be true had been quite an adjustment.

Ugh, corporeal bodies.

Wickham would have been happy to tell her how much more being noncorporeal sucked, if he was here. "It was a rather last minute addition to my education," Lydia admitted. "They did try to teach me about preserves and such, when I was younger, but I never paid any attention." She had been too busy, you see, between daydreaming and learning how to be a witch. "Of course, they didn't know I'd be going to the future where there were so many options other than shifting for myself."

Pffft, Wickham, just have your body be a physical projection of your mind and power, and therefore capable of ignoring anything you didn't want to bother with.

"And now you're hosting a clever little social group devoted to having other people cook for you under the guise of trying new cuisines," Liliana congratulated. "...Hmm. I should talk to Ignis about hosting the Club one night and having him make something Eosian. Or Innistradi. Ravnican, perhaps...?"

He'd taken the alternate route of winning a rake's soul at a card game and taking over his body. Even Darcy had to agree a demon was an improvement on Original Wickham, it must be said.

"Oh, that would be lovely!" Lydia exclaimed, "although we wouldn't want to set a precedent of the members of the club being expected to host, I think." Lydia could turn out something edible if she really put her mind to it, but, "I'm not sure Mr. Logan knows what to do with an oven." Among others.

"Oh, no, not at all," Liliana agreed. "I'd only suggest it because Ignis adores cooking for people."

You should really ask him about this, Liliana. Just saying.

"Or, of course, there's taking a portal and trying those cuisines on their respective planes, but that does generally take away from trying restaurants around here."

Or, hear Lydia out, she could forget to mention to him that he was cooking for a dinner party of an indeterminate number of guests until, say, the morning of. What could possibly go wrong?

"Professor Scientia suggested as much once, but I thought it best to stick closer to home, as it were," Lydia said. "You've seen how much difficulty some of us have with just Baltimore, I'm sure." Flint. She meant Flint.

He'd love that, surely! It would be a great exercise for him!

"Well, no one will look twice at a man with a sword on the other planes I'm familiar with," Liliana said with a chuckle. "And no cars."

"Yes, the cars are...well, they can be quite alarming," Lydia allowed. "I think I preferred horses, even if they were slower."

"Have you been in one?" she asked.

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Ching Tai, Thursday Evening

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