Miro x Ameiko x Synovia

Miro moves about the kitchen like a tempest. If the kitchen staff though Ameko was unforgiving they had not yet come to know the tiny terror of "Desna". Barking orders in Ameko's absence moving the entire kitchen to a new pace of excellence. Miro would take note of Synovia as she passed wondering if she had seen to Foxglove yet. When Ameko would enter the kitchen Miro would fall into line with the rest of the cooks and watch Ameko intently learning everything he could. "Synovia, this is for tables 2, 3, 6. Tell 4 and 5 that their meals are taking just abit longer." Miro scowls at one of the sous "because perfection cannot be rushed. Also, have you spoken with foxglove yet?"

Synovia enters the kitchen, looking harried, grabs the plates and says over her shoulder "No, I have not seen him and even if I had seen him, the new little tyrant in the kitchen is not goiving me the time to breath much less talk to anyone."

Miro looks back to Synovia over his shoulder. "Well I'm sure that you will find time to catch your breath after you serve those tables. As far as Foxglove I road the horse, you speak to Foxglove...... when your shift is over." Miro looks to the sous chef and sucks his teeth. "Woah woah woah not PEPPER."

"Don't worry my friend, a deal is a deal. When I see him, I will speak with him."

Synovia takes the orders to the tables then goes to find Amikeo. "Amikeo, are you sure that this halfling is not your long lost son, brother, or something? He is as ruthless in the kitchen as you!"

Ameiko looks over her shoulder, a precarious stack of dishes in each hand and some balanced on her arms. She smirks and shruggs, a few dishes jiggling at the action. "My son would have a fuller set of hair and a 2 extra feet to him, but he'd probably only have half the honor and discipline, so I will take Miro over this hypotheti-HEY! If you put salt on that brisket, I will cure your hide, Rhoman!" she shouted at a burly man holding stock still with a salt shaker in his hand. She smiles sweetly when the 300 pound man slowly put down the salt shaker and grabbed his utensils. His tablemates laughed uproariously. Ameiko hurried back into the kitchen. "Aiyah! Miro motto hayai! You're falling behind! Learn to be perfect faster!" She drops the dishes in a large wooden basin on a counter and two young girls begin to furiously wash them. She walks behind him and grabs a pot out of his hand and jerks her head at a bowl on the counter. "I'm helping because I don't want you to bankrupt my tavern with slow service."

Miro looks back to Ameiko and smiles "Aasifa Ameiko." Miro turns around and begins to move at double his pace. "I will see to it that the mistake is not made again!" Miro begins seasoning the brisket "appropriately" moving like a dervish amoung the goods and orders. With speed and precision he begins barking orders again this time moving the kitchen into something more akin to a well oiled machine. He would have time to assess the staff later and deligate their particular skills but for now the evening rush was afoot and he had no intentions to let Ameiko down.

Ameiko gives no acknowledgement to Miro's work ethic but he does at some point feel her give him a gentle squeeze on his shoulder at some point in the night. No words, no looks, just a brief silent moment of approval.,

Miro works diligently til the end of the shift. Long after the orders have finished and the last of the few cooks have left. At any point in the night if Ameiko happens by the kitchen she would see Miro sitting upon a stool sized far too large for him holding a pot almost his size passed out over it breathing lightly and rhythmically a scrub brush his only companion laid out on the floor next to him.

After Synovia finishes cleaning up the dining area, she finds Miro asleep on the stool. She shakes him gently "Come on my wise friend, it is time for sleep."