hammernhasslehoff | Snazzy Jazzy OPEN POST LAND

Dinin had somehow ended up on Earth. They never figured out how, and Dinin had no clue himself. All he knew was that he was no longer being eternally tortured for losing faith in Lolth.

Although at first, he had not even known that. The years of torture--Dinin had no way to know how long it had been--had taken their toll on him. Dinin had come to the world almost comatose, and had to crawl his way back to awareness. To relearn how to use his body, how to speak again, how to do everything once more.

Without a question, he was taken care of. An alien, they called him. They could have not been more right. Dinin found himself being treated in ways he could have never imagined nor dreamed of. Treated with compassion and caring--two things he still didn't understand.

It had been a jolt of cold water when he had come back to himself enough to remember the stories that were supposed to be true. None of it had been true, as far as he could understand. None.

And then some Dungeon and Dragons nerd had found out about Dinin and realized what he was. Drow. That was how Dinin's stay in the hospital ended; at the end of a dozen police rifles. Hours of interrogations followed. Days, weeks, months of being locked up. His entire life story being forcibly pulled from his lips--or so they thought; there was much that Dinin held back, knowing his life was on the line.

Grudgingly, he was released again when he was able to convince the government officials that he was not a threat. Given an education on English and the modern world, given an apartment to live in, given a stipend, but not entirely given his freedom.

No, he was given a 'guardian' instead to help him 'navigate' the world. A guardian that could bench press him with his finger. Yeah. Dinin knew at once what the guy was there for--to make sure he behaved, and if he didn't, to instantly kill him.

Dinin had no intentions on dying. Like before, he did whatever he had to do to survive. Besides, this 'prison' was far better than Menzoberranzan had ever been. He could deal with this.

Still, he all but gave the cold shoulder to Reinhart as they traveled in the back of a taxi. Regardless of how he felt, Dinin could not help but sneak disbelieving glances at the man. How in the nine hells could a man be that big?

And Reinhardt... seemed fine with this. He was not similarly cold, and he never even questioned nor argued the decision to have him watch Dinin. If that was what Overwatch wanted, then he'd never fuss about it.

Dinin would never even be given the idea that the big man was at all displeased with this. Quite the contrary. Even as the elf attempted to shut the man out... well.

"It is interesting to be in a non combat situation like this. Normally when I watch someone, it is to keep them from being shot! It is so much quieter now."

Yeah.

Yeah he was gonna talk. He could talk for a long, long time, Dinin.

"I hope you do not mind that I brought a few things to keep me occupied in the apartment. It has been some time since I've lived in anything like it, you see." The old barracks in Strudel were a touch better suited for someone of his size.

And yet, despite being so big, Dinin would find an amazing amount of room between himself and the man. He'd settled himself just so, so that the smaller man wouldn't feel cramped or imposed upon. Even if it meant squeezing into a corner.

He looked comfortable enough, smiling brightly at Dinin.

"What would you like for dinner tonight?"

Dinin appreciated the chance to practice listening to English. It also gave him the chance to feel out the other man. Who was not acting how Dinin would expect a babysitter to act. It would take time to decide if that was a good thing or not.

"Anything except pizza and a good glass of wine," Dinin answers, looking out the window at the ever so strange world he inhabits through his sunglasses.

A rumble... it was a chuckle. He was laughing.

"Pizza would never go with wine anyway! Nein, I'll make us sauerbraten and bread. You have no issues with meat, do you?" If so, hey. He could make vegan saurbraten. It wouldn't be the same and he sure as hell wouldn't eat it, but if Dinin wanted it, he'd definitely make a decent portion for him too.

"Und nachtisch, ice cream maybe? You have not had this yet have you?" Please say no, he wants to see you taste ice cream for the first time, okay?

Not another language, Dinin thought with mild horror; he knew there were thousands of human languages by now, and part of him feared he would eventually be expected to learn every one of them.

"Hence why I do not want it," Dinin looks back to him, then, trying not to appear curious. "You cook?" Quickly followed by "What is sauerbraten? ... and ice cream, for that matter?"

Edited 2017-11-05 04:28 (UTC)

"Ja, of course! Who else would make all the food?" Bridgitt? NO. Don't be silly, she's got better things to do than sit down and cook. Reinhardt had no issue with making the food here.

"Sauerbraten is meat, cooked in a sour sauce with vegetables. It has been marinating for a few days now, it needs time, you see... Ah what is in it... Red wine, peppercorns, juniper berries, cloves, nutmeg, and bay leaves... It will be a while yet still before it is fully cooked, it needs four hours..." Yeah, he's drifting off just thinking about making this.

Your seven foot four burly four hundred pound baby sitter with the face of a bear is getting thoughtful over cooking.

"Wine is good, but it goes best with stout... Ice cream! Ah, it is... well, iced cream! Very thick, sweet cream made in different flavors. Chocolate, vanilla, mint, pistachio, cherry... Ah, the car ride is not long enough to tell you all the flavors."

Edited 2017-11-05 04:33 (UTC)

"The slower it is cooked, the better it tastes, or so I am told," Dinin finds himself talking easily enough, surprised by that, and he tilts his head as he considers the explanation about ice cream. "... Humans have found every strange flavor possible, I am certain. You can never explain every flavor, no matter how long we both have to live."

"It is true! It takes on a deeper, more noteworthy taste. You cannot sear saurbraten, and you must not overcook it. It is tender, melts away in your mouth." God he is making himself hungry. That rumble came from his stomach.

"We will have to get a flavor you like. When you think of sweet, what is it that comes to mind first? Fruit? Candy?"

"Then I am interested in eating that," Dinin smirks a bit at the stomach rumble, and shrugs. "Neither, truly. I enjoy my chocolate bitter--that much I do know."

"Dark chocolate ice cream is certainly a thing they make. There is a corner store near, we can look there if you are not in any hurry to go back."

Once more, open offers. Choice given, even if it was just between going to the apartment, or stopping at a store to get ice cream first.

"I think they make syrup in dark chocolate as well... We will have to show you more flavors later, maybe. We have plenty of time, after all."

Already, the glow of the apartment lights, and by proxy the corner store, was blooming across the cab windows, the car pulling to the curb and Reinhardt excusing himself after paying, politely holding the door open for Dinin.

Dinin is half-aware that all the offers are open, but it's nice to be given choices for a change. He decides this human can live. For now.

"... I would like to see the store; I have never been in a human 'corner store'," Dinin nods his thanks to the door being held open, scooting out of the car and standing, looking around curiously. "I was allowed only on supervised trips to the nearby 'mall'."

Their luggage had already been moved ahead of them, so there wasn't any need to worry about it.

"It is much smaller than a mall, very easy to navigate. Come." Down the street and just to the left,t he glow of the store bright and florescent. Cheap, honestly. That was a corner store, but Reinhardt wasn't one to complain about his ice cream being inexpensive.

Again, the door was held for Dinin, Reinhardt making it a point to enter before him. Just in case anyone did actually happen to see and recognize the little dark elf and get upset.

He had a job to do, after all.

"Alright, dark chocolate ice cream and syrup! Should not be hard, eh? Here, there is a section for food that is frozen, over here." Gesturing to the back wall behind the chips.

ADVENTURE, DININ.

Dinin likes to think that Reinhart is recognizing his nobility by holding the door open, but he has a very sneaking suspicion that the man is doing it for the horrible reason of being nice. He still doesn't understand what being "nice" really is. It seems to make his life easier when he does it, though, so he nods his thanks to the far larger man.

That's the equivalent of Dinin saying his thanks repeatedly and with great gusto; don't expect it to be much more than that.

He looks around in surprise at the store so crammed full of... things and food. That's the two things he can think of. Things and food. And makeup. The one good thing about his sunglasses is that he can scan a place without most people noticing where his sight has gone, and he can see the shop owner tense up a little after he enters.

Ah. "It is like a grocery, only smaller."

Dinin has been to one of those, too.

Edited 2017-11-07 01:14 (UTC)

Reinhardt holds doors for everyone, Dinin. It's called being nice, you would be correct there. At the very least though, the drow did note that it made his life easier, so hey. At least Reinhardt wouldn't be getting an earful for it, would he?

He just beamed down at the smaller man before letting the door close, heading right to the ice cream. Hey. He's nice, but he's pretty single minded, and he wants some goddamn ice cream.

"Less fresh food here than a grocery, I would say, but yes." Everything was made to last, jerky and chips and cans of instant ravioli and boxes of microwave pasta.

"Here we are, dark chocolate! We'll get the gallon, we'll need it."

Considering Reinhardt can pound back a gallon of ice cream all by his damn self, yes. They'll need it. He's going to try and be moderate here.

"Now, syrup? Cherries maybe? We could put candy on it, what shall we get..."

Because if he has to be happy with just a gallon to share, he's gonna need to load this up with more sweets.

Dinin has no plans on giving Reinhardt an earful about it. No, he's observing what he does and how he interacts. Most of Dinin's interactions with humans to this point have been artificial--humans doing as they were told or with an end goal already decided. So far, this man has been more open and flexible, and thus more like ordinary people would be. Perhaps Dinin can learn what is expected of him in ordinary interactions by watching him.

"Whatever you wish," Dinin looks up and up and up at him. "The 'ice cream' shall be more than enough for me."

"Whatever, is it?"

Then there's at least five bags of fun size snickers being grabbed too. That's gonna be more candy than ice cream, Reinhardt.

"Anything else you would like, while we are here? I remember, no pizza, of course. But there are so many other foods for you to try, ja? Pick one, you are so small, you need it."

"We should probably get food that is..." Dinin searches for the word. "Good. Healthy. We should get food that is healthy. Fruits and vegetables and meat. Mushrooms, although the mushrooms of the surface are lacking in flavor."

Look. He misses the mushrooms of Menzoberranzan. That was some good stuff.

Edited 2018-03-15 23:12 (UTC)

Snazzy Jazzy OPEN POST LAND

Dinin Has a Babysitter

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Oh hey I realized I was not spelling Reinhardt right WHOOPS

FOUR MONTHS LATER

A WELCOME BLAST FROM THE PAST