Cooking to Brooking

[Random_White_Guy]

Cooking to Brooking
Gausim al-Marain

It is a phenomenon that I have not heard before arriving at Ephia's Well, but the notion of Cooking being tied to the act of Brooking is not merely a twisting of the tongue or a children's level rhyming couplet. I have, in conversation with citizens of Ephia, come to wonder if it is not a more cleared path.

Consider if you will the terror of the blood warping djinn, of the flesh warping djinn, these primal and raw elements of the very nature of our Mother's creations. To take something that was made perfect and with intent and purpose sunder and skew it towards your own desirous ends. Be it for pleasure, be it for purpose, be it to impress others. She who loves all, made all, and only can watch on as mankind chooses such a path.

Ripping flesh, tearing bone, draining blood. It is a grotesque notion.

...Now re-read that notion.

Consider if you will the terror of the hunt, of the peeling of carcass for fur, these primal and raw elements of the very nature of our Mother's creations. To take something that was made perfect with intent and purpose sunder and skew it towards your own desirous ends. Be it for pleasure, be it for purpose, be it to impress others. She who loves all, made all, and only can watch on as mankind chooses such a path.

Ripping flesh, tearing bone, draining blood. It is a grotesque notion.

Is it any wonder, that those who partake of such a life are preyed upon by the Djinni? The scent of blood beneath the fingernails, the taste of violence upon the tongue, the eagerness for doing whatever is required for survival, sacrificing any sense of decency for one more day? What is more aphrodisiac to the twisted whims of the pact-touched? What is more narcotic to the blackest beast and most profane and blasphemous abomination?

The scent of a kindred spirit, the likeness of a fellow flesh-warper, one that has tasted the odd sensation of "Devouring" meat that was "Killed".

Perhaps next time, consider the fruit or vegetables grown of garden, the paste of a fine hummus.
Perhaps next time, consider enjoying the company of small animal and large beast.
Perhaps next time, consider leaving things as they are and enjoying them for what they are.
Perhaps next time, consider peace.

And I pray to B'aara that more may come to know such. For a good culinary artist is lauded high and low for their creations.

Preferably though, absent of blood and violence.