windandstorm | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[Eames happens to be in a library at the moment (or what appears to be one, in any case), and is walking along the outside line of the shelves, grinning.]

This isn't half bad, really. I could offer a few suggestions, of course, but just the lack of projections means it's cosier than most dreams I've visited.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[You will not out-chill Eames, sir. Not at the moment, anyway. He's in his chill stride. (He's even stopped pacing. Just ignore the fact that he's now drumming his fingers against his arm. In a chill sort of fashion.)]

Does it, then?

[He nods, standing.]

I was wondering if someone else would show up.

Someone else? Just how long have you been here that you're thinking of it that way? [Of course Arthur's ruining Eames' glee over his new environment. He would say as much, but getting more information takes priority.]

Three months and twenty-two days.

[At least he doesn't sound upset about it. He grabs one of the books and starts flipping through it idly - he's been talking to people, not messing with things. Not really, anyway. May as well do it now, right?]

Specificity. [More a self-directed 'of course' than anything. He shakes his head and steps forward — he'd like to know what's in the book, but he won't encroach that much on Arthur's personal space.]

And in that time, you've encountered strangeness?

[When Arthur finishes flipping through the book, he closes it. Noticing Eames interest in it though, he holds it out for him to take if he really wants - hardback, old, pages already browning... green binding with no title on the front, just some golden patterns and tracings on the spine.]

Mostly people. [Pause] And the scenery changes.

[He can hardly reject Arthur's kindness, now can he? He takes the book and pages through. Of course, now that he has it, it isn't nearly as interesting as keeping his attention on Arthur.]

Like a dream. What sorts of people?

Yeah. But it isn't.

[He doesn't answer the question yet, just watches Eames, waiting to see how he'll react to that little bit of news.]

[Before responding, he turns the book over and shakes it, almost disappointed when nothing comes out.]

You know how you got here, then? [It's asked idly, even if it's anything but. It also begs the question of why hasn't he left yet, but one thing at a time.]

I was leaving the hotel in Paris, but the door out led here instead of the street.

[And, of course, he's dead serious when he says it. His hands are in his pockets, and it's probably pretty obvious that his right hand is toying with the die.]

Better than me, then. Although I suppose if one of us isn't dreaming, neither is the other.

[His eyebrow raises a little.]

Not likely. How'd you get here?

The question of the hour. As far as I remember, I was leaving the Los Angeles airport.

[He nods, but doesn't say anything. He's too busy thinking about the month-ish of a time difference, and what some of the others around here have said... etc. It means his expression is focused, but not on anything that's actually tangible.]

[Eames leaves the silence for a few moments, taking the time to shove the book back onto a shelf.]

Did I say something momentous?

[Aaand back to the present. His attention back on Eames, he shakes his head.]

No. Just curious. [Pause] Guess I should say welcome, then.

Only if you mean it, darling.

[Three months and twenty-two days without pet names. Over. Ah well... Best to just carry on. He takes another look around.]

Did you pick this out?

Pardon?

[Another pointed look around before facing Eames again.]

This. I thought you came up with it. [He half-heartedly shrugs one shoulder.] Anyone can change it.

But this isn't a dream? And really, Arthur, I can do better than a library. [Not that he often has reason to, people are far more interesting than surroundings.]

It isn't. And try it if you don't believe me.

[PS, if you care to look? some of the walls have become tinted glass instead. Much better.]

The glass is enough for now, thank you. What exactly have you done with yourself for the last three months?

After realizing I have no idea how to get back? Nothing. [It's almost an exasperated sigh.]

Nothing? That's quite some time for doing nothing. You really should work on that.