Zerxus, who fully expected to get in there and make a sandwich or something, just - well, he's listening, his feet are moving him towards the table to sit down, but he sure is staring the whole time.

It's not new, exactly; it just reminds him of a world that doesn't exist anymore. The mages of Avalir conjured feasts on a regular basis.

It never tasted quite right, at least not to him. In this case, though, he really can't tell; it's been too long since he had a meal like this. Even back home they had to be careful with portions, their spices were limited, they could only grow or slaughter certain kinds of food.

It's a full fifteen minutes before he notices that Bruce did in fact sit down with him.

"...Does the caffeine do anything or do you just like the taste?"