Of all the things that Phobetor had been forced to endure over the years, not using his gifts on a long flight full of weary humans was one of the most difficult. While he had known it would have been utterly hilarious to poke around in some of the passengers' dreams, there was always the chance of making some critical mistake and sending the plane spiraling down into the ocean. The fall hadn't been a concern for the son of Hypnos, but any even with a possibility of coming face to face with Poseidon again was something best avoided. Phobetor had been forced to watch the in-flight entertainment instead, though he didn't speak Japanese. Given that the movie was Finding Nemo, however, perhaps that had been a good thing.

Itching to use his powers, Phobetor transformed into a sparrow mere seconds after leaving the jet. Having no belongings not carried in his various pockets and pouches, there was no luggage to grab, so rather than wandering through a hub of smelly, frustrated humans the God of Nightmares opted to fly over the crowd instead. A whiff of cinnamon, however, caught his attention. Unable to resist, he winged his way down to a small bakery stand, and there found an out-of-sight place to turn back. Before walking up to it, he made sure his clothes looked sufficiently normal: dark blue slacks, a black-and-green striped shirt, and a gray jacket emblazoned with skulls managed to fit right in nowadays. Not that these were really part of his garb; they were merely a disguise. Consigning himself to wait amongst the humans for the snack, he rested his hands in his pockets and found that there was no money. He thought for a moment about what morality had done for him in life, and decided to steal a cinnamon roll instead.

He fished Vox out of his satchel, licked his thin lips, and played. A few meters to his left, there came a loud crashing noise out of nowhere, metal clanging against the ground and shattering the tranquility of the scene. As every eye turned to look, the shadow of one of the cinnamon rolls sprang to life, and launched its owner toward the God of Nightmares.

A few minutes later, a sparrow arrived at the bus. Phobetor changed forms again, and just for the sake of using magic, decided to change into his proper attire now that he was in the company of people like him. A wave of his hand wove shadows through his civilian clothes, turning them into black cotton and leather. His favorite bandanna materialized around his head, which he checked to make sure was in place. Placing the last bit of the pastry inside his mouth, he boarded the bus. His eyes instantly fell upon its occupants, a fabulous boy with audacious hair and an unimposing brown-haired girl in a sweater. Neither interested him in the slightest, though the young lady looked temptingly sleepy. Pretending to ignore them, he scratched his chin with a clawlike fingernail, as if he couldn't decide which seat to take.