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Yawgmoth made a grumbling noise that again, wasn't even words to Ziven before making one loud belch from the meal he'd just eaten. He shook his head. "Excuse us" he said. Certain common manners irked Yawgmoth when they were not done. Sure he may not've eaten like a civil person but he excused himself after almost every belch. and those who did not got on his nerves. Some little pet peeves like this were held for other common mannerisms. Whereas others, like elbows on the table, eating piece by piece rather than just ripping into food, and the position of the utensils he just kinda blew off. "Why, why are you always around when we get up? Just curious, are you stalking us pet?"

Yawgmoth smirked a little "And just what is that supposed to mean? You've grown so accustom to seeing us by now we doubt that it is just coincidence anymore." Yawgmoth said. Yawgmoth quietly flexed his arms a little causing the material on his shirt to stretch to the boundaries it could manage without ripping. Yawgmoth still felt pain in his arms, shoulders and back and was trying to work it out.

Yawgmoth nodded slightly his eyes still fixated upon his biceps and forearms. "Routine leads to boredom. We cannot stand boredom.." He said with a discomforted look at the end of that statement. "It seems our body today, however, will not be boring us. But rather intriguing us to its workings yet again." Yawgmoth said tilting his head deciding to give his arms a test, simple but effective test. To see how much pain they would generate upon use. Yawgmoth started to undo the buttons on his shirt one by one and laid it upon the bar top. Clenching his fist he threw a punch in the air with his left arm, then his right, then left again. This pattern continued in increasing speeds until Yawgmoth's fists were cutting so fast through the air at such a speed they were two fleshy colored blurs with the only the sound of them swishing into air to identify their location and pathway. Yawgmoth stopped and flexed his hands open and closed once or twice examining his arms. It was clear something was wrong with them as the veins on them were bulging out and throbbing quite visibly. "Perhaps, it is a blood flow problem.." Yawgmoth said unconsciously aloud to himself tilting his head watching the veins in his arms throb and pulse from the simple workout. They were able to lift tons of weigh, crush mountainsides, punching air should not have effected them so.

"Maybe not for you. We find we have dull moments all the time nowadays except when we are engaged in combat, or with Crow. Everything else seems....less exciting." He said never taking his crimson eyes from his arms. After a few moments he winced a little and sighed. "We're clotting...lovely." Yawgmoth said sitting down at the bar. He laid his arm on his shirt and tied the sleeves around his upper arm with the help of his teeth and sighed grabbing a large steak knife from the bar top. With surgical precision he sliced the lower forearm of his right arm open. Blood started to pour but was quickly soaked up by the shirt. His tail curled around and pried into the wound pulling it open farther for him to see his own veins and arterial structure. He found the large clotted tissue and just..dug it out with a knife. Very unsafe for any normal creature but not for someone like Yawgmoth. Who threw the clotted piece of artery to the floor. He dropped the knife and pinched the veins together, his fingers gleaming with a purple light that seared them together. He spit the parts of the cloth out from his mouth and pinched the wound shut with the same arm and seared it shut with the same dark energy. The shirt was saturated in his thick crimson liquid now and was dripping onto the bar. "A patchwork job..until our body fixes itself at the next cycle. It will do for now." he said aloud walking to the sink and rinsing the shirt out. He grabbed a towel from nearby and wiped the remaining blood and that which had dripped on the floor up. He flexed his right arm a little and smirked. "Yes, this will do." he picked up the clotted piece of artery he'd just pried from his own body off of the floor and examined it. "Bah...all those raw steaks are bad for us it seems."

Yawgmoth nodded. "Yes. Does it seem out of place to you?" he inquired. "We are unique. There is no other being like us in all of the universe. We are the only one who knows our physiology well enough to perform these things. Besides. Birth Priests are more...mechanics." he paused for a moment. "Birth Priests, since we're sure you are unaware, are the phyrexian equivalent of a doctor or a healer. Since all phyrexians have mostly metallic parts, Birth Priests are more inclined to metal than flesh. We are flesh, unique flesh, but flesh none the less." he answered further.

"Most cultures, like yours, are primitive and beyond the methods of understanding an advanced culture possesses." Yawgmoth said back shaking his right arm a little to get the blood flow going more so. "There are so many words in Phyrexian that have no translation in your language because you simply do not know what the thing is. Or the concept to have given it a word yet. We find it amusing how such a primitive species as human beings have managed to dominate this planet. Probably because they are like insects. There are just too many around that their stupidity hasn't concerned their domination yet." Yawgmoth said with quite a bitter tone in his voice. "And as for the pain, pain is a concept of the mind. An electronic impulse sent from the nerve endings in one's body to one's spinal column to be read out by one's brain. Since this is all pain really is, strong minds are easily able to overcome weaker signals from nerve pulses. But, even we have our limitations. There are some things that the electrical signals are just too strong to override." He shrugged. "But surgery upon ourselves is not one of those things."

"'Your culture' is the Earthlings culture. All of it. All of the insects on this planet. Elves, Dwarves, Vampires, Demons, Humans, all of you. Pathetic. Each culture worse than the last." he said with a sneer. "Sapparzan, Phyrexian, Kyren, Cabal, Viridian, Vedalken, Nureok, Moriok, Nim, Vulshok, Auriok, Loxodon, Leonin, Krark-Clan, Tel-Jilad, Myr, now those are cultures and races to be proud of being. Our favorite besides our own phyrexian being the Vulshok." Yawgmoth smirked. "They are humanoid but they give in to their primitive nature enough to actually make them advanced. All Vulshok are near expert fire magic controllers and are grafted at birth with metallic war gauntlets upon their arms that grow with the child from birth till death. An interesting race to say the least, but certainly proving to us, that not all humanoids are weaklings. This planets humanoids however, are just that." He said with a glare in her direction, most directly insulting her.