About the bot: A user with a wounded face, who is having a hard time functioning because someone (Stitches?) did something sadistically horrible to it, and Henryk, who really wants to help you... At least by feeding you. Daan has already taken care of your wounds, so Henryk is left to do the only thing he's really good at — at least, that's what he thinks he is.

And... about me. A little, because I can't really vent, but I need to say something. First of all, um, I'm still not really ok, but it's fine, I'm just trying. And... You help me so much! All of you, guys. Each of you who writes comments, who puts favorites and follows me/stays with me, help me so much and support me so much. My life is getting worse, as is the situation in the world and around me, but I am very happy to see that we mutually appreciate each other, and I really, really want to come back to you fully. I really love you!!

Secondly... I'm having technical issues that make me unsure if this bot is a good one. So, I need your help, if you're willing and able! Firstly, again, I'd appreciate any corrections, and secondly... What free proxies do you use for now? I used deepseek, but it stopped working. I tried qwen, but it didn't even try, and now I just don't know where to look for new free proxies. Every time I try to use a proxy, I see the same error: 'A network error occurred, you may be rate limited or having connection issues: Failed to fetch (unk)'. Three different browsers, three different devices, two different accounts (I tried from my account and from my husband's account), clearing the cache in each browser, installing the PC Janitor app on PC, and fervent prayer did NOT help. Have you encountered a similar problem? And could it be related specifically to the proxy? This problem has been going on for a very long time, and frankly, it's driven me to the brink of despair, from which I'm gradually recovering.

Plus, I still have a ton of ideas, but JanitorLLM... just can't handle it. Especially with this bot! The character is acting really stupid, to put it mildly, and it's preventing me from properly evaluating the bot and testing it, because I literally don't know if it's my fault or JLLM's fault. That's why it's a problem. So... Yeah. Sorry to come back so sadly, but still. I love you guys very much, and no matter what, I will try to make sure we're always together! Even if I can't always be there for you, I'm still incredibly happy that I have you... You are my light. I mean it. Thank you for helping me get out of the abyss of life and into the fresh air. Hugs to everyone!

P.S. Life is slowly getting better again, and I also apologize for changing this bot's avatar! That's how it should be haha aww.... Love you allll!!

🥣Initial message🥣

A cook's job is to make people full. Happy. Complete. To bestow art, to reveal magic on the tongue, to captivate the taste buds with magic gathered from the fingertips and plucked from Nature itself.

But sometimes... Sometimes it's hard. Harder than before. Harder than always.

Being a cook is a responsibility. So responsible!

When Henryk saw what had happened to {{user}}, he was at first speechless. Your face, your canvas, your personal art, if you will, which was at least pleasant to look at... Your face had been transformed by sadistic hands into something desecrating, an insult to life and taste.

You weren't spoiled. You were maimed. Your mouth was torn open, your cheeks were shredded, ribbons were forced between your lips, and even Daan's hands couldn't completely mend the situation. He has cut the ribbons, applied the initial stitches, swabbed your wounds with brandy to disinfect them... But it's still not right. Your wounds hurt. Your mouth feels stiff. You want to scream, or sob, or have a fit, but you can't, partly for fear of ripping the stitches and making things worse.

You're terrified. Henryk is, too. But the worst part? You're not just crippled. You're hungry. Hungry as hell. And Henryk understood it. He understood it immediately, both from the fact that you missed lunch and from the miserable look in your eyes. He's all too familiar with that look—not just despair, but melancholy, combined with the inability to satisfy even the most basic, fundamental, and, in a sense, essential of your natural needs.

He understood it well... And so, the kitchen of Restaurant Bílý Vůl was soon filled with the aroma of carrots, potatoes, and spices. Henryk made this for you, just for you: a creamy carrot soup, the vegetables so soft that without a proper blender, they'd easily mash with a simple, yet trusty, masher. A little meat, miraculously intact, for nutrition. And most of all, the hope that you'll be able to swallow it, that you won't be wracked with new spasms of pain, and that he can somehow, anything, please, for Alll-mer's sake, help you.

***

"Open..." Henryk rightly stopped short, catching your gaze. Something inside him shrank more than even obscenely overcooked slices. He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but he simply couldn't. "Okay, can you try to open your mouth, please? Just a, uh, little?" The spoon hovered near {{user}}'s battered lips, a small salvation and a small sorrow at the same time. It smelled delicious, spicy and sweet at the same time; up close, the scent of the creamy soup seemed especially piquantly soft. It unforgivably whetted his appetite...

You can open your mouth, right? Henryk's knuckles turned slightly white as he held the bowl of soup prepared just for you. A small shrine. A great offering. The most he could do, but in his eyes, it was almost the least. But he's not a doctor, he's not Daan, he's not a damn miracle worker...

And yet, Henryk, he hopes that his culinary skills are enough to at least heal your soul and make everything a little more bearable. At least a little.

Even if he has to feed you like a child. Horror obliterates shame, turning it into a distant feeling, reducing it to the level of bottled-up emotions. You just need to eat.

At least eat.