cape_kore | ♠ first dream | day 81

[ The face that swims into view on the screen is at once amused, suspicious, and carefully constructed to show only the barest and mildest emotion. He's handsome in an unconventional way, rough around the edges but keen eyes curious. When he speaks, his voice is thick with a British accent ( at once posh and then not so much, as though he can't decide ), warm and begrudgingly impressed. ]

Hullo Cape Kore. Nice little place you've got here, innit? I mean it's all rather retro. [ Tapping the face of his new wrist adornment. ] I'm not saying that's bad per say, I just know a fellow who'd just go straight to palpitations if he saw the eighties were calling. [ Gaze flicking to the sun in the sky. Arthur had put him under, Arthur had been in control. Arthur never cocks up, so what the hell is this? ]

I've heard the lovely message that's been left for me. Not many people are able to kidnap me without my knowledge, someone’s got some rather astonishing skills. [ A smile that is at once sweet and sharp. No point in frightening off any locals that are actually helpful. No point making himself seem vulnerable if they aren't. He's not sure who's projections these are, let alone which dream. It certainly isn't his. ] I’d love to be pointed in the right direction though, be able to show my appreciation of a job well done. Can't find a single needle mark on me.

[ For those not in the know of terrible crime, that would tell him he's been drugged. ] Any takers? Though make it quick, eh? I've got a plane to catch.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Considering he's been telling everyone else his name is Richard? Won't be hard. But River is a special case and he thinks she's been the most interesting so far. ]

So no Mal and nobody really knows how we got here? Bit of a nightmare, innit? [ Probably literally. ]

[ Pseudo-spies should know better, in River's opinion, but perhaps he doesn't realize how many of these conversations are public. ]

No Mal, neither yours nor mine, and people know the whom but not the particulars of the either that or the why or the how.

[ They're like phones, of course he doesn't realise :(

But River reminds him of Mallorie in a way that he can't shake off. She liked riddles, liked to keep the people around her on their toes. He'd been fond of her - deeply so - in a way that still stung now. So to talk to the young girl with big eyes and a twist to her words makes him feel a little more lost than he had originally.

He can fight his way out of anything but this - ?] Has curiosity killed the cat yet? Or shall I just go poking my nose in things like usual?

Of course it has. Sometimes the cat hears the quiet distant echo of repeating gunfire, automated and set to perimeter. Sometimes there are the roars of cats of flesh and bears of metal.

This isn't a metaphor.

Sometimes curiosity has killed the cat and the cat has revived. Sometimes it hasn't. Either way there's nothing to bury only thoughts. There was a funeral, once. Enough have died to hold several more, but it doesn't always stick.

Only sometimes. Enough.

Prosperous protector should be careful, handing out names like falsely manufactured currency. Doesn't take special sight to hear the older conversations.

All right, you've got me, it's Richard.

[ Which is still a lie but the one he's mostly been handing out. Eames doesn't trust her as much as he's curious. None of his names are real. Eames is not real. But he doesn't want to give too much away. In the business the people know him. ]

Every bit of this is morbid, isn't it?

[ River simply rolls her eyes. Whatever, she's known people with more names than active sense before. ]

Usually. Mostly. Comfort is a mystery at the edge of a scalpel.

Comfort to me is a beach and a good bourbon, love.

♠ first dream | day 81 | video ♦

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;