"Oh... yeah. I think I'm hungry, actually," Kalim says. He has to think about it, though. He is hungry, but it doesn't feel the same as usual, and he isn't sure how to explain how it does feel. He frowns. "That would be really great. Thanks, Jamil."
"Stay there," Jamil says and gets up to gather his things.
Unfortunately there's very little able to be stored without even a provided minifridge, so they'll have to resort to the age-old tradition of canned fish and crackers. Jamil gets as fancy with it as he's able, mostly out of something to do; the helpless anxiety of the aftermath reminds him of those times when Kalim recovering from poison was still a regular occurrence, before it became Jamil's problem, when all Jamil could think to do was just do his job without complaint for once, as if quieting his own negative energy would restore balance to the world faster.
Actually, maybe he goes a little overboard: he ends up with an impromptu snack platter, with basic hard crackers, tinned salmon and mackerel, efficiently-sliced hard cheese, and a few options of dried herbs spread out for Kalim to arrange as he likes. (And also Jamil, because voiding his stomach earlier has made him pretty hungry too, as it happens.)
Back home Kalim would never have eaten anything like this. Not that he'd refuse to, but it just wouldn't be put in front of him – the ingredients Jamil usually prepares him meals with are always the freshest and highest-quality available. Kalim was only vaguely aware that fish came in cans because Grim kept on talking about it all the time, and he wasn't really sure why you'd do that or what it would taste like.
Well! Now he knows! It's been a bit of an adjustment, the kind of food that's at their disposal here, even when they are actually using the kitchen. He's still getting used to it. All the same, watching Jamil go about preparing this little snack platter makes Kalim feel just as warm and cared-for as his proper cooking with decent ingredients always does. He knows it's just Jamil's job. But it's still worth admiring that he takes it so seriously.
"Thanks," he says, smiling up at Jamil as he takes a cracker. "Are you gonna have some too?"
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Unfortunately there's very little able to be stored without even a provided minifridge, so they'll have to resort to the age-old tradition of canned fish and crackers. Jamil gets as fancy with it as he's able, mostly out of something to do; the helpless anxiety of the aftermath reminds him of those times when Kalim recovering from poison was still a regular occurrence, before it became Jamil's problem, when all Jamil could think to do was just do his job without complaint for once, as if quieting his own negative energy would restore balance to the world faster.
Actually, maybe he goes a little overboard: he ends up with an impromptu snack platter, with basic hard crackers, tinned salmon and mackerel, efficiently-sliced hard cheese, and a few options of dried herbs spread out for Kalim to arrange as he likes. (And also Jamil, because voiding his stomach earlier has made him pretty hungry too, as it happens.)
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Well! Now he knows! It's been a bit of an adjustment, the kind of food that's at their disposal here, even when they are actually using the kitchen. He's still getting used to it. All the same, watching Jamil go about preparing this little snack platter makes Kalim feel just as warm and cared-for as his proper cooking with decent ingredients always does. He knows it's just Jamil's job. But it's still worth admiring that he takes it so seriously.
"Thanks," he says, smiling up at Jamil as he takes a cracker. "Are you gonna have some too?"