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[psilocybe]

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[psilocybe]

Oh, that.

[not a funny story but definitely a long one– he doesn't know where to start so he stalls, grabs a couple beers from the mini fridge and pops them open. god, when was the last time he hung out one on one with another guy? he's doing his best not to seem or feel awkward. it's awkward enough to ask someone you barely know to come meet at a crypt instead of the arcade, which would've made more sense. lucky for travis and unlucky for dom, his expression remains somewhat stony, any feelings of uncertainty hiding in his eyes instead.]

Uh, so you know the girls I got here with? Or if you don't, the Yellowjackets soccer team?

[sip beer. stall more. steer dom in the direction of video games.]

There's ...some stuff going on with them. [not a great first impression to say that he's hiding from a girl with murderous intent.] So me and Nat are staying here with Spike while things cool off. Make sense?

[wicka]

[ He's talking to the guy who exiled himself in his own room for a week because everyone suddenly wanted to break his or each other's faces as soon as he was in the vicinity, so — who is he to question that decision after a vague enough explanation? Hell, maybe he should've picked something like a crypt to hide out in, too. Less risk of staff wandering in or people finding their suddenly missing friend. ]

… Yeah. Makes sense.

[ An equally vague nod, Travis' steering might as well be a point-and-tell-him-where-to-go. Dom's a good(-ish) guest and Travis isn't exactly being a bad host, considering the whole — everything. But they're also a few years away from caring about the standards of that dynamic. #Friendship is the goal. (no pun intended) (unless) ]

So, like … you and Nat are together, right?