Damion allowed himslf one last affectionate glance at her with that little smile of his before packing it in completely. Nodding toward the top of the car, he said, "Good. Angel is on the roof of the car. Grab her and let us go."
An then, with a sigh, he looks out the window at the tavern and lets his face go clear of emotions. In a moment, she could see his expression and his posture hardon, returning him to his usual form.
With an arrogant half grin on the unscarred left side of his face, he undoes his seatbelt, turns off the can, and opens the door. Stepping out into the crisp, cold air, he took in a deep breath and realized it was good to be in a dryer climate again. It felt good. It felt like home. Now all he needed was his old Falconer yelling at him.
Not waiting for Ristar, he leans back into the car, into the back seat, and grabs his prized vibra-blade sword and clips it to the left side of his belt. It was more or less ordimental, but if it came down to it, the sword could chop the barrel off of a tank without an ounce of effort so it made him feel better to have it. Pluss it looked really cool. He checked his gear quickly before walking up to the tavern and opening the door, stepping in first so that if it was a trap then it would be sprung on him instead of Ristar and Angel.