You're welcome. Can I get you anything to drink?

"Oh, okay?" says Orion, confused.

Atalanta frowns suspiciously at the napkins.

New napkin! Okay, new napkin, uh. "...napkins are talking to us." Peer. "Talking to me I guess? Uh, no, thank you, source of napkins. Do you have insight to offer on what the hell is happening here and why it's a comic book premise?"

"Plus I threw my power-sharer in Tebow's face two days ago and formally quit New York the next morning, after he tried to murder my best friend." 

This is an interdimensional bar. In the typical case you will upon exiting return to the time and place whence you entered. I don't have any special guesses as to why the door appeared to the four of you in this way.

"Totally comic book premise. I also have a Tebow who is a doorknob and who tried to murder one of my best friends! Napkin says this is an interdimensional bar and that upon exiting we will return to the time and place whence you entered. Now, source of napkins, when you say time...?"

(Quietly, half to herself, "You guys have friends?")

("I don't know, how do I tell if I have friends?")

"I have friends!" Bounce bounce. "I have an alliance! Made of people who are not from New York but who treat me like a person and not a saint!"

Typically patrons observe that time does not pass in their universes of origin while they are here.

"Four Scorpiuses walk into a bar..." he murmurs, and then, more loudly, "Napkin says time is paused where we're from so we're very firmly in comic book territory instead of whatever genre we were in before."

"Well, that'll certainly give me the study time I asked for." 

"What does that... mean. The comic book thing."

"Comic books occasionally have absurd plots like alternate universe versions of the same characters meeting in implausible circumstances. Whatever this is, it's not... the same kind of magic we're used to. I'm used to. And I make flippant references to fiction as a coping mechanism."

"A man after my own heart," Atalanta mutters.

"...Do you two read a lot of fiction?" 

"Not since joining the Scholomance."

Atalanta crosses her arms grumpily and doesn't answer.

"My special interests are murder, altruism, and friendship, and fiction doesn't usually scratch any of those itches for me. It's an interesting data point." 

"I do not think I could be described as having special interests but to the extent I can narratives and aesthetics would in themselves be two of them."

"Altruism? Really?"

"Is your objection of a form answered by 'I can afford to' or 'people dying is bad.'"

"Why are you like this?? Why is this a way I can be like???"

...Scorpius feels like there is a landmine somewhere here and he does not know any of these people well enough to guess accurately where it would be. "I think given that I'm black it would probably not be right to say that any of us is a way another of us can be. Exactly."