Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lance sighed; the elfin girl was getting on his nerves.

"If you're so hungry, why don't you go order something?" He suggested, snarling at her.

Dahlia climbed up on the table, curiously sniffing Lance's steak. He gave her a small piece of it, and she happily gobbled it down. He stabbed his fork through more potato and popped it in his mouth. It wasn't of his concern if this girl was too stupid to eat something before she starved to death. But he did feel bad for the other girl, who still looked exhausted and seemed just as bewildered as he did by this strange elf. He figured once he finished his meal, he would go sit with her and talk.

Riasha is rather hungry, but she's not really paying attention to that right now. She just nods her head to Jòna. "I'll have to take your word for it. Couples usually stay in their own wagons for such things," she says. "I've never gotten that close to anyone."

Standing up slowly, she carefully walks over to the magic bubble, dragging her feet slightly as she's still rather tired. "What does magic feel like? I mean, to use it? Is it as easy as breathing?" she wants to know.

Smacking the girl's chest with the back of her hand, she said, "Touch it. It zaps you. It's hilarious!" She proceeded to do it again, grinning ear to ear.

"So if it takes so much energy, why are you putting the effort into this silly thing?" Jòna dashed a curl off her forehead casually.

Magic was an unexpected entertainment. If he insisted on keeping the bubble, she didn't mind. She set her palm flat against the bubble, letting it vibrate all the way up her arm to her elbow. She finally snatched her hand away with a shrill laugh, shaking out her hand.

"Because you wanted to eat my cat," Lance said evenly.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of how to exactly feel about his present situation. She had expressed wanting to eat the kitten, but his shield seemed to amuse her. He suddenly had an idea.

Pressing his palms to the kitten, he held them there until the magic turned purple. Moving his glowing hands to the table, he pressed them flat against the surface, lifting his fingertips up. A stuffed kitten exactly like the one still curled up on his arm appeared. Surely she wouldn't know the difference. He pocketed the live kitten as he dropped the shield.

"Help yourself," he snapped, throwing the stuffed cat at her.

He really hoped she wasn't going to get irate with him. He looked at the human girl with his cloudy eye, keeping the other on the elf.

"It's.. quite wonderful, really. Of course, it comes with a lot of responsibility, and not everyone has good intentions with it. But, I do enjoy it."

"He sounds like he only uses it when he needs to," Riasha says. Though, personally, she wouldn't mind seeing more. However, she's a little worried about Jòna using the methods of 'persuasion' she mentioned earlier and blushes again at the thought. Nodding to the magic user, she smiles faintly. "There are a lot of people in my land that use power in the wrong ways," she says softly. "But I've never heard that it was magical power, just political and martial power."

Jóna gestured to the man. "I don't know, what can you do?" To Riasha, she said, "Oh, don't be a spoiler. Don't you want to see him do more? Let's see him do more. Come now, friend. You hold us both enraptured with your talent!" she exclaimed encouragingly.

Their discussion didn't particularly appeal to her, so she stayed out of it.

"As you wish," he said in a resigned sort of way.

He pressed his hands together, his facial tattoos glowing gold. Pushing his hands outwards and away from his body, his palms upside down to one another, gold seeds hit the ground. From them, a large tree began to grow, winding around the cafe. Fruit and flowers were blossoming from the massive branches. Cherries and white flowers were lining the area, and the flowers were rather fragrent. He reached up, grabbed a cherry, and ate it.

"Happy now?"

Riasha watches the magic create a plant and grow it to fruition with wonderment and awe, her eyes wide like a child's. At first she says nothing because Jóna has said it all. There isn't anything more to say. Then she realizes how hungry she really is. Tentatively she reaches for some of the fruit, then pulls her hand back. "Is it safe for me to eat?" she asks the man. "It's late fall where I am, getting close to winter; we don't have a lot of fresh fruit." She also doesn't point out how difficult her life had been recently.