[Matt's sitting behind the bar, with a cigarette in one hand, a paperback version of Interesting Times in the other, and a half-finished pint glass of a copper-colored beer in front of him. He's lost track of how many times he's read through the Discworld series, and most of his attention isn't on the book, which he's mostly memorized by now anyway
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Almost tentatively, he turns the knob and peeks in, immediately pleased with the sight. Nice. He was thinking that if he didn't get a drink in him soon, he was likely to go nuts. Yeah, it's fucked way of coping, but after everything that's been explained to him, at this point, he really doesn't give a shit.
He fixes his attention on his figure behind the bar, the heels of his boots landing heavily on the floor as he walks over. Matt. Or...a Matt. Sure, he looks like the Matt with whom he's spoken before, but Mello's quickly learning that around here, that doesn't count for much.
He reaches the bar and flashes a smile, leaning over the surface and resting his elbows down.]
Chocotini?
[If ( ... )
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You're gonna share that, yeah?
[He heads for the door, but looks back at Mello to grin again.]
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F'you promise not to crash.
[He pushes himself off of the stool and follows, capping the bottle again. Same should go for him, too, but Mello knows himself. Knows that he can see straight if he forces himself, react in a timely manner if the situation calls for it.]
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[His mood has swung to cheery now that they're actually doing something, and he holds the door into the hall for Mello, making a showy 'after you' gesture.]
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What're the chances of them actually having a ZX-7RR in there?
[He glances at Matt as he passes through the door, suppressing a chuckle at his motions. Fucken guy.]
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[This comes out muffled around, sure enough, the cigarette he's lighting as he walks. He wonders if nicknames for cars are universal among Matts.]
I took M out in her, the second time we met. Man, I was in such a pissy mood.
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Sally?
[His Matt has a car that he calls "The Git" because there were at least three times in which it threatened not to turn on until he kicked the dash and referred to it by this name.
Well, Fucken Git.
"Sally" makes Mello smile. Just a bit.]
T'ch. I bet I'll dust Sally in whatever I pick. Game?
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's down, like, two flights of stairs.
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[The bottle swings, bumping against his thigh as he makes toward the stairwell. Twice, he catches himself glancing over to Matt. Somewhere along the line, he passed that line that divides slightly tipsy and moderately affected. Whatever.]
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Maybe I should drive. But then it wouldn't be much of a race, huh.
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[He shakes his head, bringing the bottle up and turning the cap, even as they proceed down the first flight.] M'alright, man. I've driven while worse. And besides, can't die here, right?
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Man, this fucking huge spider got me one time. [He finds he has trouble thinking, walking, and smoking all at once, and stops, with a hand on the banister, to cut it down to just two of those.] In a room with like a cornfield and shit.
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Cornfields freak me out, man. [A large swig before he holds the bottle out to Matt, holding himself steady with a hand on the banister.]
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[He takes a belt of his own from the bottle, and offers it back.]
Think that was the point. A, um, all the cheesy horror movies at once sorta room. But I didn't know I was gonna wake up in the hall.
[He imagines the first death in the mansion is a rite of passage of sorts, for those stuck here long enough.]
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Did you feel it? [A small tilt of his head.] Being dead, I mean. Not the actual dying.
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I don't think so. I sorta went numb all over and blacked out. Woke up wrapped around M in the hall.
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