"Yeah. I do the best 4th of July bashes. Had a tank one year." It was easier to talk about previous years than the most recent one, the one he'd left behind just a few hours ago.

He made a sympathetic noise. "I don't usually have that problem with dreams, but I know what you mean. Some shit's a little...fuzzy for me. Like, certain specifics." But everything else was good. Well, not good, but solid in his memory. "Maybe it's like- fuck, you know when jet lag throws you off, except we came through some kind of portal thing, right? Maybe it fucks with our brains." He did not, after all, know jack shit about the effects of mysterious magical portals on the average brain--or body.

Kavinsky thought he was already the villain in someone else's story. A lot of people's, probably. He told himself he didn't care, that what other people thought about him didn't change who he actually was, but...he did care. He couldn't not. It was just easier to pretend, brush it off and embrace being a monster. "Yeah. And just-" He glanced away, for a moment, a heartbeat, before scrapping the rest of that sentence, and instead- "I don't want to be caught up in anyone's crusade or whatever. I'll make my own decisions."

Refocusing his attention on Ash, he smirked, slouching a little more in his chair. "Truth. Hit me with it."