Snippet #2719243

Drunk for weeks? That was all he needed to hear, honestly. With a fiendish chuckle, Landon wobbled over to the young man, grabbing him in an unsteady hug that had them both spinning briefly. "Good lad!" Lan roared in jubilation, his skinny arm around the boy's shoulders and pointing off to the distance west of the dreamer bubbles. "How about we get started then, eh? Onward to Craven's Hollow!" With a final crow and hearty slap on the kid's arm, Landon led the way on meandering feet through the tall grass and hilly forest.

It was a heavy hike back to civilization, the terrain changing in front of them from placid hills to craggy rocks and steep inclines. Whereas yesterday Landon had to climb down the sandy dunes to get to where he'd slept, now he was going downward again towards the town he left. Still, they weren't but half a mile away when the buildings came into sight. By that point, Landon's flask was empty and abandoned somewhere on the trail, and he was sobering up just enough to walk in a beeline to the nearest bar.

Craven's Hollow, although a small town, was at the center of a cross roads between the 6 cardinal directions, so it was bustling with activity. If not for the grip Landon had on the hand of his new best friend, the kid could have seriously been lost among the freakish denizens of the Dreaming. Representing every archetype that could be thought of, the citizens of this town were every shape and size imaginable. Most were humanoid but alien in their transformations and distortions of the human figure. Some were ethereally beautiful, offering the passing pair smiles as they disappeared in the crowds. Others were too hideous to look at straight, causing the instinctual fear inside to flare up with a 'fight or flight' muscle memory. All of them would have been better admired and loathed from afar but the particular pathway that Landon weaved, took them scrunched up close to other bodies, slithering through split-second openings as people went about their own business and walked their own paths.

Because of the clash of different cultures and classes, Craven's Hollow was known for its criminal element, being a cheap place to buy goods, both legal and illegal in the Dreaming. It was also known for its bar, Temperance, a four story establishment where anything and everything could happen. The different levels represented both payment grades and decadent opportunities, the higher you went, the more you were willing to shell out for the most deplorable entertainments. And booze. The booze got better the more stairs that were ascended.

"Let's have a drink before we head out," Lan panted as they broke through an opening in the crowd, right before the doors of the establishment. Adjusting his ratty coat and not letting go of the kid's wrist, Landon led him inside. Ground floor of Temperance was about what anyone would expect from a bar and there was something both medieval and modern about the atmosphere. Glowing neon lights whined in irritation against the back wall of the bar, casting all the bottles and glasses, and those sitting right at the bar, in a icy cold, blue light. It was daylight hours, so most everyone was out working for a living, except a couple of chaps sitting on stools, enjoying a lunch break. One of them, a fellow with whiskers or spines sticking out of the sides of his wide face, gave the new arrivals a grin and a wave, his exposed arms covered in bumpy red skin with black stripes.

Taking a stool, Landon gave the place a quick, alert glance around, before slapping the counter to hail the bartender. "Oi! Drinks over here! My mates paying!" Land gave the kid another grateful squeeze on the shoulder.

The bartender was a woman and at first, from behind, she looked human, bent over, restocking cleaned extra glasses beneath the bar for the evening shift. When she stood and turned, she was still plainly pretty and human looking, except for the thick, softly curling horns protruding from four different places on her head. The top two horns swept back over the back of her head, but the two right at the base of her skull, curled up in slightly different directions as they curled up by her ears. The front most horns dangled with jewelry while her ears remained unpierced. Black eyeliner encircled her dark brown eyes, while glasses sat on the bridge of her nose.

When she saw Landon and recognized him, the apathetic frown already on her face, deepened to actually displeasure. "No, Lan," she said in a slightly irritated monotone. "No freebies, no IOUs. I'm not in the mood to negotiate. And you can't pickpocket in here. You almost got me fired last time, you big jerk."

"Oi! It's not like that, Ezzie--"

"EzRA! No nicknames."

"Ezra, come on, I'm legit this time, I swear it," Landon said, hand to his chest as if half-pleading with her and half wounded by her accusations. By her penetrating stare, it was hard to know if she was moved by his theatrics. It was time to introduce the kid. "I have a patron with me today. My best friend whom I just met." Even with his arm around the boy's shoulders, patting the lad's chest as he mentally searched for a name, he finally looked to the kid for some assistance. After an awkward moment, he got that little help, "Matt," Landon said, emphasizing the word a little too much, obviously having heard it for the first time ever. "He's agreed to join me for a little schnozzle."

Ezra's dark eyes quickly moved between the two of them before she finally snapped, "What are you doing? That's not your friend. You don't have any friends. People dislike you as a matter of principle."

"Whatever," Landon sneered, adjusting his jacket in annoyance. "He's got money he's willing to give to me. That's all that matters, aye? You want me to buy something or not?"

Ezra rolled her eyes and suddenly her small finger was out, pointing in Lan's face, "No stealing."

"I'm nawt!"

"I mean it. I'll take you to the kitchen and cut your hand off just to save my own skin from my boss." She gave the boy an unconcerned look.