Archie cracked the door from his suite to the dining room and one weary, subterfuged blue eye careened around the room revealing a counter and scattered mismatched tables and chairs, to confirm again to himself, that he was in fact...dreaming.  He'd concocted the host, Kasmir, no, Antwap, or whatever his name was, no doubt from some dime store novel he'd read as a boy, an image that only the unused lobes of his brain retained for just such an occasion. The Captain's perusal continued as his single sapphire viewing orb took in Marty, a throw back from the 20's...peculiar, and then Elizabeth, a striking young woman in clothes that seemed more form fitting than what the ladies of the day were currently wearing but this was a delusion, if he wanted to conjure a  high caliber damsel for his dreaming pleasure, he could.  Lastly, he spied, Tyler, a young man sipping coffee that looked like he'd been electrocuted, jet black hair was standing on end, dungarees so shredded they looked like they'd been used as a cat scratching post, and a Marlon Brandon leather jacket to cap off his outfit, where he'd dreamed this guy up was anyone’s guess but Archie was pretty sure it was the stuff of legends... please God, he prayed to himself, let me remember this dream when I wake so can write it all down!<br/><br/>Finally the lure of the scent of fried bacon and the aroma of fresh brewed coffee captured Archie's good sense and he yawned the door open wide enough for his thin frame to pass.  A soft creaking sound from the hinges of the portal declared him as an intruder into the serene atmosphere of the main room of the Trading Post and his cautious gaze darted around the room ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.  Dressed  in clean khaki chinos, light blue button down long sleeved shirt and some brown penny loafers, he'd borrowed from the closet, the only remnant that he was a soldier were the dog tags hanging around his neck that made a jingling sound as  Archie stepped out into full view.  He contemplated bringing his Colt .45 pistol but thought that bringing a weapon to breakfast, even in a dream, was simply put.. rude. Wide eyed and full of suspicion he remained silent as his view found a petite oak table set with a heaping plate of  scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and buttered toast, accompanied with a steaming cup of coffee. Archie's hunger gave way to the temptation as he threw caution to the wind and strode quickly to the table set for one, slid onto the unbalanced dining chair, then clamored for the fork with his shaking hand and began to eat ravenously.  A worried glance still passed over the odd collection of inhabitants he was company with between shoveled bites of eggs and quick snaps of bacon crunching down between his teeth. The food was heavenly and for the moment he hoped he didn't wake until he'd gorged fully on the bounty before him.