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[Eddie would have preferred the theatrics of the drama room, but he did his best to set up an imposing angle for his message. ]

I’m thinking a lot of us could use a chance to blow off some steam, hmm? Lots of work to do around here, and weird ass monsters to fight, but not a whole lot in the way of recreation.

Back home I ran a group called Hellfire Club. Led us in some of the most epic D&D campaigns Hawkins Indiana ever saw. And I was thinking…I could offer my services as Dungeon Master here if people were interested.

Beggars can’t be choosers and I know we have a lot of people who’ve never played, so- lucky you- I’ve decided to open up admission to first timers. Little bonus- anyone who joins gets a Hellfire Mk2 shirt of their very own.

[He shifts to show off the new design he’s printed, a proud smirk on his face.]

I’ll be at the diner this week for people to sell me on their characters. If it’s your first go, I’ll have sheets prepared and can help you fill them out.

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The character sheet felt like a little time capsule sitting between them, something from a different life that Tony was confessing to, and he restlessly turned and folded a corner of it without much regard for the wear on the paper. It already had a much more efficient digital record already, it wasn't like Tony was going to keep this outdated media. He left it behind even as he pushed out of the seat, taking his mug with him, and raising the other hand inquisitively to ask if he should be taking Eddie's as well. Before Eddie thought that meant Tony was quite done with him, though, he did say, "We can't keep ignore this, we have to address this," with a nod and wiggle of his fingers toward the proudly made shirt Eddie wore, and the appropriated name of a very different club.

Eddie had scribbled down his own notes based off the sheet, all ready forming ideas, and it took him a moment to notice Tony's offered hand. He nodded quickly, handing over his mug.

"Mmm," Eddie looked down at his shirt like he'd been expecting this question, "It's from a comic, it's not actually some kind of satanic thing," he explained, with the longer suffering voice that said he'd had to justify this more than once.

They were not going to return to the argument, the argument was supposed to be over, so Tony had to close his eyes for a deep breath at this revelation. It was not enough to stop him from demanding, "Is anything real where you come from? That's got to be an easier list." Never mind cleaning up, Tony was just going to need more coffee to get through this, so he snatched up the cup to refill and was still talking as he stalked toward the kitchen, making it sound like he was arguing passionately with the voices in his head, "It's kind of satanic, you know--or, demonic, I don't know if Satan, specifically--I thought it was ironic, ha ha, just playing some games with lives that don't even matter."

"..." No. There was no way. "Is everything real where you come from??" First dragons, and now Hellfire Club? And Satan????

"Are you fucking with me?" Eddie called after him, pushing out of the booth and scrambling after him, peering round the corner and into the kitchen. "Satan Satan? Like the actual devil? He's real too? Shit, man, I guess I should've been going to church all this time..."

That sounded like an impossible question to answer, because it seemed fairly obvious to Tony that most things were real, yes, and he didn't learn about mechanical engineering from comic books, so he squinted wearily ahead and made hungrily toward the hopefully not entirely empty carafe of coffee. "This one time, I can promise you, I am not," he could answer loftily, turning to lean on the counter one his mug was appropriate freshened and he could keep it reassuringly close to his heart.

"There are devils, like--demons, but--I don't know how many people any church has protected from them. That's magic stuff, you ask a wizard about it, or just hear them out, I don't know, I've been on weirder dates. You probably know some already."

Yeah, they were definitely going to wind up circling back to their argument, and Eddie tried to reign himself in. Their worlds had a strange amount in common for having such crazy differences.

"..." He blinked, physically restraining himself from asking the obvious 'wizards?', because of course wizards were fucking real in his world. Kind of in his now that he thought about it. But probably not the same.

"I was born on the wrong Earth, this isn't fair."

Tony wasn't entirely convinced that these things didn't exist on Eddie's Earth, only that Eddie did not know about them. That they still took familiar shapes in stories was too much of a coincidence, like Jon knowing all about Dracula and still thinking he wasn't real. That was stupid. With a wry smile, Tony lured Eddie closer with an inviting wiggle of his refilled mug, and promised, "You're probably better off without the Hellfire Club. That one would make a better comic."

Coffee and cigarettes seemed to be as much of a drug as this place wanted him to have, so Eddie was easily lured with the reminder that there was more to be had.

"Mine's cooler anyway," Eddie decided with a smirk, "Better branding."

He looked momentarily uncertain, before he allowed himself to ask- "You ever uh...fight those demons?"

While Tony didn't have any reason to argue, he breathed a laugh while plucking at Eddie's vest to give his handiwork a critical inspection, looking innocently open but unconvinced. If he had any more teasing to do, it was clearly derailed by Eddie's question, making Tony's eyebrows jump in surprise, both for being asked and for the strange tone. "What's with you and fighting? Do you fight the dragons, do you fight the demons--I'm a man of peace, I'm a lover, I...I mean, listen, sometimes, but I don't instigate, I'd rather resolve a problem by leaving both parties very satisfied."

The look was enough to get a slight pout out of Eddie, even without a comment.

"Dude...you have a flying metal suit and live in a world of superheroes," Eddie replied with a deadpan look, not quite able to hold off a smirk at Tony's line for long though. "And it's nothing, just...looking for colour for the campaign," he excused. Not like there were any demobats/dogs/gorgons here to fight.

"Dude," Tony echoed under his breath, with a firmer tug at Eddie's vest to clarify that he should feel more shame for committing to the nickname, or Tony was going to increase the shame himself. Again, that impish glimmer slipped away into curiosity, tongue still between his teeth but quirk of his own wry smile dropping. His focus flickered briefly, back down toward Eddie's shirt, but this time his assessment was a little colder before he was asking, "How do you think you fight a demon?"

Eddie laughed, not looking at that dissuaded.

"I dunno, like most things I guess? You smack the hell out of it?" Seemed to work for the smaller things in the Upside Down. But he was less sure how well it was going to work on Vecna. Maybe he couldn't die.

He shrank back a little under that look, and rolled a shoulder with a defensive frown.

"Not really an expert. Pretty pro demon," he teased, nodding down at his shirt and the mascot he'd drawn.

Alright, maybe it wasn't a demon that left those marks on Eddie, that was a pretty casual answer to which Tony had to concede in a fond mutter, "Plenty of heroes make their careers on that philosophy." There was something there, though, and Tony couldn't read it under that frown, leaving him watching Eddie with unnerving intent, narrow and calculating and at odds with his casual lean back against the counter. "You didn't ask me about the dates," he challenged. "He's not really my type--" he added with a gesture with his cup toward the snarl on Eddie's shirt, "but I'm in no position to judge anybody's tastes, your pleasure is my pleasure."

Eddie snorted, but couldn't help but give a small smile. At least it wasn't a completely stupid idea.

He shifted to hoist himself up onto the counter and lounge casually, trying to distract himself from that probing look.

"No? How'd I do, is he close to the real thing? I guess not, if your dates were so much more appealing."

"Listen, it's not bad, plenty of demons can look like that," Tony allowed, free hand up in surrender to the chosen likeness, because that wasn't the point he was trying to argue. "That's just the kind of demon a guy who's really into smacking them draws. I can't buy the pro-demon claims, sweetheart, you've already played your hand."

That term of endearment made Eddie duck his head with another smile, and he shrugged a shoulder with a coy look.

"Tell me about yours," he prompted finally, "And tell me you didn't have to smack them, that's depressing."

Tony knew a diversion when he saw one. He was an expert in the field. Eddie only bore the weight of another narrow look, though, before Tony was rolling his eyes thoughtfully aside, considering what a person would have to explain about demons if they had never lived in New York or watched the news or gone outside. It would probably get them back around to what Eddie was trying to dodge.

"I don't know if there's any basic mould for a demon. A lot of them follow this pattern where they have the most insanely hot body, and then a head that's just fire or tentacles or whatever. Like, the kind of body that makes up for it being all teeth up there. There's other that'll be your neighbour for three years and you only find out because their uncle shows up to get some jewellery back and they level the block."

He blinked innocently in return, and sipped at his drink.

Eddie eyes widened a bit though, like he hadn't quite considered that they could be a combination like that, always picturing one extreme or the other. But hot body and fire head was honestly way more metal how that he was thinking about it.

"And which type did you date, the head on fire sort or the girl next door?"

The look of offence that Tony adopted for even being asked was incredibly brief, and disappeared in a sip of his coffee. "A gentleman doesn't close himself off to a multitude of experiences," he answered lightly. It was floaty and half-focused enough to hopefully catch Eddie off guard when Tony's sharp focus was suddenly cutting into him again and he accused, "But you're the girl next door type."

That earned a giggle of amusement, and Eddie grinned, nodding his acceptance.

"Like...personally? Or that's the type for me?" he asked, a little warry a he was suddenly fixed under that look again. He playfully licked over a canine, but laughed again, shrugging a shoulder. "Maybe."

The impish glint in Tony's eye was almost always there, so it might have been easy enough to miss as he grinned in return and pressed, "Both." He had meant Eddie's preference, but he could guess that the kid might be a little bothered by the suggestion that he was going to settle down in the safety of the suburbs, just playing his games in his basement.

It'd be a step up from the trailer park. Eddie wouldn't mind honestly. He hummed and gestured a wavering motion with his hand. "I'm not really sure of my type. Never really dated anyone seriously."

That gamble hadn't paid off at all, so maybe there wasn't some demon thing that Eddie was hiding, or Eddie was more unflappable than Tony had anticipated. He gave a brief pout, then his fingers were wiggling to cast it off. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "What are you, twenty-two, -three? I was almost married by then. Twice. Three, if you count, you know, that dying devotion thing you have for the first gal who blows you in the family limo. Nothing to lose, though, not really--not if you don't have it in the first place."

"...Yup," Eddie agrees, not about to correct someone for guessing higher. Whether it's flattery, or just a genuine guess, he's happy to accept it.

"Ah, yes, the first blow in the family limo. Fond times," he teased, pretending to reminisce. "...I'm just not looking for anything serious," he lied.

Right, okay, maybe that was not a universal experience, and Tony flapped a hand to wave it away, you know what I mean. The summer cottage, then. What he did press on, and repeated, was, "What are you waiting for?" His cutting focus wasn't on Eddie then, idly on his coffee instead, which didn't entirely hide how he kept still, listening. When Tony 'wasn't looking for anything serious', it was because he thought it wasn't possible.

At the diner

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