"Being cool comes naturally," Richie responded smoothly. "What the hell else was I gonna do?" It was a lie, of course, because Richie Trashmouth Tozier had never once in his entire life been branded cool. Not even by his friends. No, he was pretty much a loser through and through. And he was fine with that, generally, but Dick seemed like a cool kind of guy, nickname and general want to be brotherly not withstanding. So, it wouldn't hurt to try and impress him a bit.
He waited on the doorstep -- even if he did peer into Dick's house a little curiously, noting that he had stuff. Like furniture and probably even plates -- until he came back and handed him another snack cake. And messed up his hair. Rich offered him a look that very clearly said what the fuck over that but somehow miraculously didn't say anything.
"How long does it usually take?" He asked, and it was a bad question because he supposed it depended what they found and what they were doing, but Richie had Eddie in mind, and how his friend would probably kill him if he went missing for an absurd length of time. But he was on a mission to quell his curiosity, and whatever mental battle he was having with himself eventually cleared up and he fell into step mostly beside Dick.
And then they were at the House and he squinted through his thick frames at it. "Yeah," he said. "It was pretty obvious. Like a bad movie." It wasn't really creepy, the house. It looked like most of the houses around. Maybe a little bigger. Maybe not quite as friendly, if only because it was obvious no one lived there. But it was just... a house. "Alright," he went on, going into his British Guy Voice. "Pip pip and tally ho! We must away on an adventure, my good fellow."
The house in question was just -- well. No wonder they called it the Doors instead of the House. Because that's all it had in it. Doors and doors and just for good measure more of them. None advertised how scary they were or weren't though, so that was nice? "...How do you pick?"