It's been days since Arthur arrived on the cape. days, with absolutely nothing to show for it except for a dark shadow of hair on his face, hair out of place on the top of his head, and the distinct lines that have all but become a permanent fixture to his forehead.
His totem says he's not dreaming, but Arthur's not sure he believes it.
an elegant solution Ariadne had called it, but Arthur. Arthur knows better. Arthur knows that Dom is (was? has always been?) two steps away from unraveling and will always be teetering too close to mad and genius all in one go. But see- the totems. They're supposed to let you know when you're dreaming, supposed to give clues as to when someone has put you under, plans on extracting or incepting and it keeps you ahead of the game. But Arthur's die? it has come up reality each and every time. It has been so frustratingly determined to prove to him that this is real, that the pointman has come dangerously close to chucking it into the ocean.
He can't be dreaming. He'd been getting into a cab at the los angelos airport and he had planned on going to his hotel room, taking a bath, and getting drunk off over-priced champagne. But he closed his eyes in sync with the cab door and opened them in some New England fishing town. But not, because the architecture, the town itself? It's wrong. Out-dated. It looks like an attempt to recreate what a town would have looked like back in the sixties, had been deserted, and never rebuilt. Arthur knows this because he did research on such things, an older stock broker who was stealing money from his brother's company, who had crown up in a similar town. Arthur's dream had been an exact replica of the picture he'd lifted from the man's house, and had looked a hell of a lot better than this.
"Architect could use some work." Like start from the ground, go back to college kind of work. Arthur is almost offended that someone would think he'd believe a dream like this, but then the die in his pocket reminds him he is not dreaming and the slow burning anger in the pit of his stomach shifts to something else entirely. He needs to keep a calm head about him, because letting his emotions boil up and spill over will help no one, and especially not himself. No, he needs to keep his head because he has to find a way out of this, because he will. If it's a dream, he needs to find who and why, and if it's not, he needs to find where. It's simple.
arthur has been in the cape for days. arthur has heard the message and seen the cape and arthur is not pleased. they'd made it out of the dream. they'd made it through customs and through baggage claim and they were in reality, awake, alive. but then he was here and while spending a few days roughing it and hiding and trying to find any kind of information he could was a character-building experience, arthur is quite certain that is not the character he wants to be.
if this is a dream, it's shottily built. if it's not, arthur...well. not pleased doesn't really seem to carry the same weight as the darkness in his eyes. which the entire network should be able to see now, since arthur (after doing everything in his power but tearing the damn thing apart) has decided to use this little device here. ]
I'm not sure what you're looking for. [ because it has to be a dream, it has to. no matter what his totem might say, it doesn't make sense otherwise. arthur's normally clean-cut face and usually well-kept attire is blemished. flawed. his hair is out of place and there are shadows under his eyes and he is very not pleased. a vein pulses in his jaw, but arthur keeps it locked for another minute, before there's a slight upturn to his lips. ] But you'll never find it. I suggest you end this now and wake everyone up.
[ he's exhausted, strung out, and strongly considering destroying each and every projection here until he finds the dreamer. and that part of him still trying to believe this is reality- well. someone might want to speak up. ]
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prose sample
His totem says he's not dreaming, but Arthur's not sure he believes it.
an elegant solution Ariadne had called it, but Arthur. Arthur knows better. Arthur knows that Dom is (was? has always been?) two steps away from unraveling and will always be teetering too close to mad and genius all in one go. But see- the totems. They're supposed to let you know when you're dreaming, supposed to give clues as to when someone has put you under, plans on extracting or incepting and it keeps you ahead of the game. But Arthur's die? it has come up reality each and every time. It has been so frustratingly determined to prove to him that this is real, that the pointman has come dangerously close to chucking it into the ocean.
He can't be dreaming. He'd been getting into a cab at the los angelos airport and he had planned on going to his hotel room, taking a bath, and getting drunk off over-priced champagne. But he closed his eyes in sync with the cab door and opened them in some New England fishing town. But not, because the architecture, the town itself? It's wrong. Out-dated. It looks like an attempt to recreate what a town would have looked like back in the sixties, had been deserted, and never rebuilt. Arthur knows this because he did research on such things, an older stock broker who was stealing money from his brother's company, who had crown up in a similar town. Arthur's dream had been an exact replica of the picture he'd lifted from the man's house, and had looked a hell of a lot better than this.
"Architect could use some work." Like start from the ground, go back to college kind of work. Arthur is almost offended that someone would think he'd believe a dream like this, but then the die in his pocket reminds him he is not dreaming and the slow burning anger in the pit of his stomach shifts to something else entirely. He needs to keep a calm head about him, because letting his emotions boil up and spill over will help no one, and especially not himself. No, he needs to keep his head because he has to find a way out of this, because he will. If it's a dream, he needs to find who and why, and if it's not, he needs to find where. It's simple.
He just has to keep moving.
network sample
arthur has been in the cape for days. arthur has heard the message and seen the cape and arthur is not pleased. they'd made it out of the dream. they'd made it through customs and through baggage claim and they were in reality, awake, alive. but then he was here and while spending a few days roughing it and hiding and trying to find any kind of information he could was a character-building experience, arthur is quite certain that is not the character he wants to be.
if this is a dream, it's shottily built. if it's not, arthur...well. not pleased doesn't really seem to carry the same weight as the darkness in his eyes. which the entire network should be able to see now, since arthur (after doing everything in his power but tearing the damn thing apart) has decided to use this little device here. ]
I'm not sure what you're looking for. [ because it has to be a dream, it has to. no matter what his totem might say, it doesn't make sense otherwise. arthur's normally clean-cut face and usually well-kept attire is blemished. flawed. his hair is out of place and there are shadows under his eyes and he is very not pleased. a vein pulses in his jaw, but arthur keeps it locked for another minute, before there's a slight upturn to his lips. ] But you'll never find it. I suggest you end this now and wake everyone up.
[ he's exhausted, strung out, and strongly considering destroying each and every projection here until he finds the dreamer. and that part of him still trying to believe this is reality- well. someone might want to speak up. ]