@timelord1101@Alisdragon911 (And any others by the bar)Zyrid shifted off of the bed, the sheets tugging at his clothes as he did so, curling up into waves along the materials edge. He had felt the motion of existence and life during the few silent minutes, or at least what felt like that long, while sat upon the bed beside the preoccupied mind of the white haired female. It was time for exploration, a small stretch of his muscular material legs for once, perhaps even a drink or twenty.
As Zyrid's weight moved onto the floor boards below him, his shoulders swayed through the air to tilt his neck, a brief smile flying back towards his equally brief carer. He had appreciated her effort to check his health, but it was unnecessary, he was in no real danger from a little inter-dimensional torsion. It's peculiar, the mortal mind and its body that comes with, though he had always prefered it, despite the belly button.
Such thoughts scaled over his mind and into his eyes, so he blinked them away and shook his head as he broke past the door way. Taking the few steps towards the stairs, Zyrid adjusted his silk collar and the leather cuirass over it. Presentable was all that he aimed to be, in both appearance and intellect of course, the later being the primary objective - though it didn't hurt to stimulate the eye. Zyrid took the last step with a small skipped step and strolled slowly over to the bar, waving his hand through the air in one swift and calm motion.
The ring upon his hand surged brightly for a moment, purple sparks cutting through his nails in jagged patterns, one leaping inside the veins of his arms and crackling about his body. His eyes brightened up in their grey blue fashion as the energy dissipated and a lush stool materialized in the place before him by the bar, purple silk decorated its vaguely oval top and a deep grey wood was its foundation.
Throwing his leg around and hopping on top of his favorite bar stool, Zyrid snapped a finger in a playful manner toward the general back-bar area, not lifting his head from a small scratch on the wooden top, the sound fired like a small explosion from his finger tips, echoing slightly across the Taverns bottom floor. He smiled, a glint of light catching his teeth and the white of his eyes as he lifted his head up an inch, rushing his hands against the torrent of hair on his head, pushing it back into its slicked-back place.
"Right here!" He said confidently to the world around him, pressing his index finger down onto the scratch to indicate his position, were it not obvious enough by now. He continued with a tone of one who had just realized the meaning of a statement, or perhaps discovered the humor in a joke
"oh, you're going to need something to write this down,".