He looks up and around; who else here would be a whiz with the tablet, that he's on good terms with? Jason? Kuai Liang? Quen...tin...? It really does feel like most of those who hesitated eating the food are those from times long past and worlds where the sword had not yet been supplanted by the gun. "I'll ask around," Cao Pi sighs, "once the next shift comes in from patrol." No sense taking someone with a weapon away from the fight.

He pops open the program for drawing on the screen and does as he always does with texts now, thanks Will: using his fingertip to quickly scrawl characters which turn into Chinese text, which is then translated as it gets sent. He might not know much about it but goddamn Will has made it so he can basically write as he would with a brush and scroll and off it goes. Between this and coffee he's not going to get on the modern world's case.