I came here for a date, not what looked like a convention for eldritch deities, yet here we are.

I glanced around the coffee shop for a sign of anybody human, however, there was none to be found. Everyone there was in many shapes and sizes: some looked like truly eldritch horrors with twisting limbs and thousands of eyes, some looked just like animals, and some looked humanoid but with one thing or another off about them.

I mean… It’s too late now to back out, though, isn’t it?

I sighed as I approached the barista. Their eight spider-like limbs focused on making different drinks of many kinds. Their eyes focused on me, before they asked me with a scratchy voice, “Welcome to the Primordial Cafe. What can I get you today?”

“Yeah, can I, uh…” I paused as I glanced up at the menu that was written out. It was entirely in a language I couldn’t understand. “A large hot chocolate, if you have it?”

“We do, just a minute, sir,” the spider-like barista replied, before turning to fix my drink. To my surprise, the barista was surprisingly fast, and watching them make my drink with their lightning-quick machines and reflexes was almost like magic. Or, probably was magic. One of the two.

Once they were done, the barista passed my drink over to me. “Thank you, how much will that be?” I asked them.

“Nothing,” they replied, “You mortals aren’t even supposed to be here, nor do you have the currency we use. How did you even get here?”

I felt the urge to flee, but stayed in place as I answered, “I, ah… I’m waiting on a date of mine. His name was Calam. Would you know him, by chance?”

The barista’s many eyes seemed to warm as they chirped, “Oh! Calam’s my little brother. You’ll love him, I promise. Have fun!”

“Thank you,” I chirped, before sitting down at an empty table. I felt like I could feel thousands of eyes staring deep into my soul. I took a deep breath in and out, in an attempt to calm myself down.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Calum arrived. At first, his appearance startled me, but I could soon make the connections between the human disguise I saw on our last few dates and the bug-like deity I saw before me.

He still had his pale green eyes, though they were now large and insectoid. His hair was still long and an inky black, though it was now literal ink that somehow managed to remain on his scalp. He had feather-like antennae that reminded me of quills. His moth-like wings were made of paper, and had written words from many languages on them.

“I hope you don’t mind my new appearance,” he whispered as he sat in the chair across from me.

I shook my head, as I chirruped, “Oh, no, no, I don’t mind at all! You look great, really.”

“Okay, good!” he chirped. He passed over an entire book to me, and excitedly squeaked, “I wrote a few love poems for you! Or, a lot… But I’m a literary deity, how could I help myself?”