"Latin is technically a dead language," Chryssie pointed out as she watched him move about. He had a grace to him. Not a feminine grace, but the type only a male could really have. It was a fascinating thing to watch him move really. She poked at her food, still watching him. "Ahh. So you were in a coma then for awhile."<br/><br/>And she guessed he wasn't the smartest when it came to history as the closest war she knew was well after the Revolution. Of course, she was going by normal mortal standards. Not so much the standards that demons went by. To her, he looked young. Young enough that the closest war she could think of was Desert Storm. Well...Closest war that wasn't ongoing. Though how he got stabbed by a magical spear was a little beyond her gasp.<br/><br/>At the blaring car alarm, she just sighed and rubbed her head. "The fireworks prob-" That was as far as she got when he yelled out and disappeared. And not like the run out the door disappeared. This was there one minute and gone the next. Blinking at that, she looked at her glass and downed nearly half of what was in it. The bubbles tickled on the way down and she could feel her body growing warm. Her alcohol tolerance had never been great, but she had a feeling she didn't want to be completely sober for the rest of this conversation. Maybe it would help her brain accept what was going on just a little bit better.<br/><br/>Looking up as he walked in, she raised an eyebrow. "Decided to use the door this time? And as I was saying before you left, the fireworks probably set it off. Which answers your question of is the alarm normal. The owner will shut it off in a few minutes or someone else well." She thought about telling him that the metal box on wheels was called a car, but decided there would be plenty of time for that.<br/><br/>"Sadly. I do not have a high tolerance so do not even try to fill my glass. I would like to remember tonight."