He yawns his way down the stairs, ambles over to Bar, sits, and says, "I have a yearning for maple mead today."
"Nothing extremely time sensitive per se is currently going on on the other side of my door but if I stay here long enough to investigate the possibility of solving some problems with otherworldly intervention I would probably be gone long enough for my absence mid-thing-I-was-doing to be inexcusable."
He approaches the bar - receives a napkin - jumps, winds up in a heap on the floor.
"My apologies for forgetting to warn you about Bar. She's very friendly once you get to know her."
"All right." He picks himself up. ...He deliberates, then seems to decide that maybe the polite way to communicate with a napkin-dispensing bar is likewise with napkins. That or he just wants privacy. Bar seems happy enough to talk that way. It is not obvious how he is producing the napkins.
"Yep. Mine has some limitations that are not currently working for me."
"Thanks. You just here for the waffles?" he asks, glancing at the plate.
He sighs.
"No, as exceptional as the waffles are, it's more that I don't have anywhere better to be."
"Your world distinguished in any way besides the not having magic?" wonders the winged man eventually.
"The thing that seems to surprise everyone is the wormholes. Although uterine replicators, of all things, take a close second place."
"...wormholes are things where you go in one and pop out another very far away, yes? It's a science fiction thing where I'm from but I've heard the word. What's a uterine replicator?"