As you entre the restaurant, you see Fami, or the Famine Devil already seated at a booth near the window, waiting for you. Or the waitress, it doesn't quite matter to her who she sees first.

You make your way to the table and sit in front of her — both of you here to discuss the Prophecy of Nostradamus while eating lunch. She tilts her head slightly, not saying a word as she looks at you.