2019-12-20 - What does D&D stand for?

Easton is dressed for a night in, working in the kitchen on preparing food. Okay fine, he's microwaving popcorn. That's about his culinary skill level. And sometimes he burns it. But tonight he's managed this feat successfully and is pulling it out when there's a knock at the door. He's wearing a pair of sweat pants and a tank top with a zip up hoodie over it. On the TV which is visible from the entry is the best damn holiday movie of all time: Die Hard. And perhaps most importantly, there is no glass of whiskey or bottle of beer in sight.

"Come in!"

It's really hard to tell with Dante whether he's dressed for a night in or not. The most casual things in his wardrobe might constitute date night wear for others. Today it's fairly nondescript (for him.) A houndstooth gray slim cut suit with a blood red pocket square and a black button-up. He peeks his head in the door, eyebrows raising. Since he doesn't know Easton, he's hesitant to come all the way in. "Hello?"

"Oh hey!" Easton calls out from the kitchen, emptying the bag of popcorn into a bowl. He looks over the suit, or as much of it as he can see and a small smile creeps up his lips. "Yea, yea, come on it." He is not exactly going to argue with company right now considering how bleak his holidays are currently looking.

"Sorry for just dropping by unannounced. Who does that these days, ay?" Dante cracks a grin, and comes the rest of the way in. He closes the door behind him. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I em, I've tried to check in with each member of our...party. It's all quite new to me." He clears his throat. "And if you've no idea what I'm on about, I'll see m'self out."

"Neighbors?" Easton answers the rhetorical with a smile of his own. Not that he would really know, in truth he doesn't talk to too many of the residents. "You aren't." And then he states the actually reason for his visit and Easton winces, "Oh shit. I should have checked in with you. I forget that not everyone is used to weird veil shit." He mentally kicks himself for not realizing that Dante might have been thrown for a loop. "No. Get in here. There's beer in the fridge.." And not much else. "How are you doing with all that?"

"That was actually the most tame of my experiences so far. The first involved running across moors, being chased by shadows. The second I only remember in patches, and I only know is real because I woke up dirty. That was when I had the flu. So..." Dante chuckles and tilts his head, "...having long hair and a pair of swords strapped to my back was certainly the least traumatic of the three. Though the pants were rather a disaster." He makes his way in with the awkwardness of a Brit unsure of protocol. "And yourself?"

"I've already threatened Clayton with violence if he tells anyone about the ears or the man-bun." Easton isn't that serious about the the threat, and it's likely he'll punch Alexander for a whole host of other reasons at various times so it doesn't really mean much. "But I know what you mean. I've been tortured, flambed, nearly blown up, so by comparison having to run around in green tunics and surprisingly breezy chainmail isn't the worst by comparison."

Sensing the fact that Dante might have manners and not just make himself at home Easton offers, "Can I get you a drink?" He also puts the bowl of popcorn on the island and slides it towards the man, like it were a bar almost.

"Oh I don't know. I found the man-bun rather fetching. And the ears weren't all bad. I could have actually had pointed ones myself, but you couldn't see them beneath that mop on my head." Dante's hair was curly in the dream, but it's decidedly straight now. Hard to tell if that's realistic or the Dream taking liberties. As for a drink? A cordial, "Only if you were planning on having one," is the response.

"My man-bun was not 'fetching'." Easton scowls and shakes his head at that thought. Only if you were planning on having one He looks a little caught out for a moment. He finally says, "Yea. Yea I am. What's yer favorite drink?" It's rare that someone has everything on hand to ask that kind of question. Easton doesn't have such worries.

"No insult intended," says Dante with a wide grin. "But I think the man bun gets a bad rap. Some men can really pull it off." Says the guy whose fashion choices lean towards the fashionably loud, when he's not simply overdressed. "Ah, it depends on the mood. My standby is a gin and tonic, but that's because even a disco doesn't tend to mess that up too terribly. I'm just not fond of anything overly sweet."

"I readily admit that I? Am not one of them." Easton laughs easily and says, "Though I'll admit that many others can probably rock it." Starting to root through cupboards to offer options but stops when Dante offers one of his one. "G and T? It's a classic. It's also a bit of a summer drink, but I can get down with that." He pulls out a can of tonic and a bottle of gin to set them on the counter. And then there are two glasses. "I do have to say, that might have been my favorite Dream yet actually now that I think about it.."

"I suppose. But it's debateable whether we actually have summer in England, so I drink it in all weather." Dante's eyebrows lift at Easton's statement. "Really? Honestly, I was just happy to be in one that wasn't horribly nightmarish. I've been told they can be fascinating, and even fun. But I hadn't had that experience up until that point."

Pouring the two drinks and pulling out a spoon to mix them Easton hands over one and after tossing the spoon in the sink he raises his own glass. "Slainte" Is it not cool to offer Irish toasts with British guests? Easton has no idea. After taking a sip, not a gulp for once he adds, "Yea, I haven't really seen much beyond nightmares to be honest. But I'm glad to hear that." He knows other people have had fun ones, Justin mentioned an underwater adventure that sounded great. "Have you had any experience with abilities yet?"

"Slainte," Dante echoes. If it's a faux pas, he doesn't point it out. He lifts the drink and sips from it, then purses his lips in appreciation at the bitter taste. "Mhmm, I floated a tissue box. Does that count?"

"That's a start." Easton laughs and considers Dante for a moment. He looks him up and down and tries to get a bead on what kind of aspect he might have. He knows other people can tell. But all he can tell is that he sets his gut in a certain way. Not any more or less than average though. "And has anyone told you to be careful how much you use it? Because there are things out there that you'll attract the attention of. Things you do not want to attract the attention of."

"Oh yes. All I heard for the first month or so I was here is how I should turn 'round and leave town." Dante pauses with his drink on the way to his mouth. "It was such a horror trope, I had to stick around." After all, he makes his living off horror tropes. He sips. "But I've also heard that it can save your life if you get sucked into a Dream that's more dangerous than swords and sorcery."

Easton laughs and says "Well fuck, you're right. As a town we really need to make it sound less intriguing." He does admit, "But yea, it has saved my life. More than once. So I also was a hard headed stubborn ass who practiced and figured out how to do things."

"That seems to be a trait shared by many of your fellow townspeople. Everyone gives me supposedly good advice, but no one follows it themselves." And neither did Dante, obviously. "I've spent my whole life looking into dark corners. The prospect of the real thing is fascinating rather than terrifying to me."

Easton can only laugh again at the very true charge. "To be fair, I've been ignoring good advice long before I blew into town." He quirks an eyebrow as Dante echoes that sentiment, though in a slightly more specific way. "I never cared for the dark shadowy corners. Except as a good place to make out with someone."

"Ah, yes, also good for that. Though I've also been the inconsiderate one who has done that in the full light of day." Dante turns the glass in his hand, then sips again. He adopts a very James Bond-type posture naturally, not as a put-on. "I did also check in with Mister Clayton and Cristobal, who seem none the worse for wear after our little adventure."

"I don't know if that's inconsiderate or bold. I think I'd call it bold." Taking another sip of the cocktail Easton sighs and tries not to think about how many of these he would crush if he lets himself. He tries not to smirk at the very dapper, very proper gentleman sipping cocktails, but it is a bit funny to him. "Yea, I punched the crap out of Alexander after... in a friendly, boxing kind of way?" Kind of. "Cristobal. The uhm.. big, not so good at talking guy?" Easton's eyebrows raise at getting a name for the man.

"Friendly boxing kind of way? In a ring, or just...a prize fight in your living room? Well I suppose there are all sorts of ways to deal with a situation like that." For his part, Dante is nursing the drink, taking a sip here or there. His face splits into a grin at the description of Cris. "Yes, well, he's marginally better at talking in his non-barbarian state."

"More casual than that?" Easton offers by way of explanation though it's not much. Setting the glass back down, Easton tilts his head and says, "Is he? I'm pretty sure I've met him on this side and I don't think he was all that well spoken here either."

Dante lifts his brows and doesn't quite contain his grin. Those expressions tend towards the sharkish, no matter how cordial he's being or how well-dressed he is. "Well, not everything in life requires sparkling conversation." He lets that sit for half a second before adding, "He took down those forest creatures quite efficiently."

Laughing Easton agrees, "Fair enough. I'm sure there are other uses for his mouth than pretty words that he might do just fine at." He then laughs at Dante's slightly less risque comment, "Yea well I still maintain he murdered some harmless children." Easton smiles over the rim of his glass.

"Constructs of a dreamscape, yes? They did explode into a pile of coins. And loincloths." Then Dante gives Easton a sidelong, wry sort of look. "Are you actually an elf, then? Defending the forest creatures?"

Easton laughs and says, "No. I'm surprised I wasn't the drunken dwarf with a big ol' axe to be perfectly honest. But it was funny in that Dream, I've never had my abilities changed before. That's a little scary if I think too much about it. And yes, I do realize that murder or whatever in those Dreams don't count."

"Except when it's you, and apparently that does count? As in, we wouldn't explode into coins and re-form.." Dante means 'spawn' but clearly doesn't have the video game vocabulary, "...back at the starting line. Except...maybe in that case, with that conceit we would? It's all rather confusing." The thought seems to rattle him a little, because he downs what's left in his drink.

"Yea no, every time I've been hurt or worse in a Dream like that it sticks when things shift back. Bennie.." He stops for a moment and collects himself before continuing, "My ex nearly died in the last one. If we hadn't had a healer with us she wouldn't have made it. As it was he both ended up in the hospital even with being healed. They're no joke."

"The first time it happened to me, I came out with injuries, so I learned that lesson rather quickly. Nothing serious." Dante raps his fingers on the edge of the glass. "Some people here tell me how exciting the Dreams can be, but also the mortal danger. It's rather a mixed message."

Easton quirks an eyebrow and says, "I don't know that I've ever heard anyone describe them as exciting? Usually I hear dangerous and extremely fucked up. A friend of mine was attacked by giant stuffed animals who tried to cut him open and stuff him as a child. Like he was just a fucking kid." He doesn't mention Alexander by name, because that's not his to tell, but the story has obviously made an impact on Easton because it's one of the first things he thinks of too counter anyone calling them 'exciting'.

But he's talking to a horror writer, so at first Dante's got a flash of interest, that fades into empathy. "Horrifying to experience in a non-fictional setting." But as a story... "Yes, I can imagine that children would have a very...difficult time dealing with those experiences. I suppose I was fortunate in that, as far as I know, my first experience wasn't that long ago. I've heard these...thin spots can do a number on one's memory."

Easton quirks an eyebrow at the initial flash of a reaction but then relaxes. "Yea. Maybe in a book it might be compellingly dark. Here? In real life it's just fucking sad." He shakes his head and says, "I remember bits and pieces of weird shift from visiting here as a kid. But there are whole events that I'm pretty sure I've just had overwritten in my head." Which is not a very comforting feeling.

"That's another reason I haven't left." Dante sets the empty glass down on the counter. "What I witness here may be terrifying, but it's its own kind of horror to imagine that one's memory can't be trusted and that whole events could be redacted or erased. Besides..." he wobbles his head, "I've met some lovely people since I've been here."

"That's a good point. I'd bet any notes you took or digital backups you save wouldn't hold up either. I mean I can't say for certain but the veil seems to have a way of keeping it's secrets. I don't think technology is going to defeat that." He finishes off his own glass and sets it down, nodding. "It's true. I think in some ways the more fucked up the things set against us are the easier it is to bond with the people around you. It's hard to hold it against a douchey barbarian once you've seen 'em change their loincloth in the midst of battle." Okay, so that's not entirely how things happened but it's funnier this way so he's going with it.

Dante chuckles warmly. "Quite." He says that one word, aware of the British stereotype he's embodying when he does. "It's amazing what shared trauma and danger can do to bring people together." And then another grin at the word choice. "He called me the douche when we first met, as a matter of fact."

Easton gives a nodding shrug at the mention of shared trauma bringing people together. He does know all about that. "That's true. Those who survive anyway." It's a joke, a pretty dark one, but still a joke. He raises his eyebrows at the news of Dante and Cris's first meeting, but then says, "Yea I can see that." A mischievous smile on his face as he doesn't clarify if that's an insult or not until he adds, "He seems like a bit of an asshole."

"A bit," Dante agrees. "But he has his own charms. And he isn't the first person to call me a douche. I try not to be, but I know my dress and bearing do rub some people the wrong way." He looks at his empty glass, then back to Easton. "Thank you very much for the drink. Drop by mine sometime and I'll return the favour."

"Yea well, pretty sure I've been called that and worse." Easton nods with a big grin, apparently rather proud of that and then says, "Anytime neighbor. And be careful what you offer, I'm definitely going to take you up on it."