Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ivan did not respond. Ivan did not even turn around when Damion spoke the second time, he simply dried dishes and set them up for later use.

Now Damion was on the phone.

"S'goin on?"

Hello? Damion?

If the card said "Say Hello" and this was a magic spell, which required a proper incantation, then Damion had just destroyed the spell. And if there were two people involved in casting it, Maximos was on the other end of the line waiting for the small device to explode because Damion said something off into it. There was a pause, and then Max continued.

Did you arrive alright?

"Oh! Maximos! Yes I did!"

Excellent, excellent, indeed!

Max said with no small amount of honest relief. There was a sound of something rustling on the other side of the phone, something paper perhaps. The tavern as a whole had returned to its "normal" self. As normal as a group of people talking in a foreign language, barely touching their food, all ignoring seemingly ignoring the foreigner could be.

" This place is way out there though."

Hmmm...it is several hours out there.

More rustling, though it was clearer now. There was a rhythm to it, something like the sound of pages turning in a book, and a tapping sound, likely Max's finger on his chin. Max sounded curious, and yet as if he knew that what he said was not the sort of "out there" Damion was referring to.

But...how do you mean Mr. Hedley?

There was silence at the other end of the phone, just long enough for it to seem as if the connection had been lost. And then a page turned. Max let out a deep breath almost sighing.

Three limbs you say? It makes no sense. That region is not now, nor as far back as these records go, ever been listed as a supernatural hot spot. For so many people to step so far away from civilization, and to be so odd...there must be...Whatever you do dont--

A book closed with an audible thump. There was a jingle in the far distance, barely enough to be heard and Max let out another sigh and said.

I'll have to let you go for now Damion. I'll phone later, if I find anything. And be careful.

Maximos voice became distant and there was the sound of something being set on a table and then.

Hello! Welcome to the Magician Lucillien Dar--

And a click as the phone was shut and disconnected. And with that sound came the sound of a crude wooden bowl sliding against a wooden table in Damion's direct. It was, as could be expected, the same gray slop everyone else seemed to be eating, only it had a little pink umbrella poking out of it, like a fancy drink might.

You finished? Use mouth to eat now. Iz good.

Said Ivan, setting down a fork beside the bowl.

The fact of the matter, the cold hard truth, was that there should have been a reaction. What Damion had just done was clearly not natural. He had warped and twisted his form into some carnivorous predator beast. He spoke with two voices. His skin was a color that nothing but sea creatures and drown victims ever visits. And there wasnt an ocean for a hundred miles.

Everyone should have been on the edge of their seats. Or arming themselves against the natural weapons Damion clearly wielded. Especially because he was being presented with gray slop to eat, which did not require or need to involve large pointy claws, or fangs, or armor. A fork would suffice. Damion had to know this transformation was not usual behavior, at least most people would have thought that. Anyone, should have seen this as an attack or a threat, or an attempt at disturbing others, despite Damion's true motives.

Iz more vhen you feeneesh.

Said Ivan, who had not as much as blinked. But had taken a fresh, damp, wash cloth and wiped away residual blood spray from off his bar, in the same way on might white up spilled water. And then, he took away the fork. Because those hands couldnt even hold a fork. But he left the pink umbrella.

The bar continued chatting in gibberish. Ivan began to turn away, saying.

I call Nikolai.

Before going through the doorway to the kitchen.

Damion was eating oatmeal. Or at the very least it had the texture of lumpy oatmeal. But the flavor of ham, or perhaps beef. And yet, at the same time it most definitely had absolutely no meat in it. Whatever it was, it was certainly the same thing everyone else was eating. Or rather, it was the same thing everyone else had been served, Damion still, if he looked would not see anyone actually partaking of the stuff, even if they did move it around its plate. But food is food right? And Damion was certainly scarfing the stuff down. Doubtful he was even properly chewing.

A few minutes later, Ivan stepped from the back room. He was wiping something from his hands with a towel, which stained the grey-white towel greenish. And then carelessly he threw the towel into the sink and made his way over to Damion. He placed both hands on the table, his wide shoulders and long arms allowing him to place one hand a foot away and outside of Damion's hands. He leaned in. And in a tone and style befitting a thousand silver screen bartenders, he said.

A drink, comrade?

What it was, was the way the lumps in this funny gruel got stuck between your teeth. As if it was made of many many tiny particles that simply would not go down without a fight. Maybe thats what put everyone off? Regardless, liquid should help.

" Heh.....that's funny. Why not, I won't be driving tonight."

Ivan nodded solemnly. It was a manly nod.

One hand slipped under the table and produced a glass mug. The other hand then slipped under and pulled an unmarked black flash, and began filling the mug with a thick black liquid which smelled like anti-septic and paint thinner. It was the good stuff.

" First though....Where is Nicolai?"

The mug was filled to the brim, and then Ivan added another small pink umbrella to the tar-like brew. When his creation was done, did his grayish eyes meet the islanders, and he spoke.

Nicolai is in de voods. He vorks. We go there after.

" I've traveled a great distance after all comrade, It's important this delivery be made."

Ivan, for the first time in the entirety of this encounter, smiled. First he was rude, then cold, then brutish, but now he had called Damion a comrade. And as icing the cake, Ivan suddenly smiled. It was nothing large, but the very fact that his lips turned in an upwards curl at all was astonishing. It seemed he was warming up to the islander/monstrous thing before him.

Dah. Yes, yes et eez.

He said, nodding deeply, very deeply. As if, mayhaps there was an importance shared here, though unspoken.

Ivan laughed. He laughed deep and hearty belly laughs that shook his fat form and made him seem like a jolly old man. He said.

Boy! You drink like man!

If Damion could taste anything at all, what with the form and function of his mouth at all, he would taste fire. For a moment, his mouth was alive. A thousand thousand little points of fire were igniting in his mouth, and throat, and all the way down. Not truly, but its how it felt. It was strong, it was powerful, it was the sort of drink that knocked you flat on your bum.

After a few seconds, the raging ache passed, and what was left in the earth elemental, demon possessed islander, was a tingling sensation that filled his entire mouth, and continued on down his throat, where it seemed to branch off like the roots of some large tree across his chest and down into his belly. It was a sensation, similar to eating too many pop-rocks, only it didnt die nearly as easily.

Ivan slapped the table in front of him and said.

Good! Ve go see Nikolai now?