The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had

[penrosestairs]

Arthur is having an unusually good day. He's both morally and professionally pleased with himself for once, a rare occurrence in a profession where a man doesn't exactly make friends and always do the right thing. This time however, he's happy with the result of his actions because everyone benefits from said result. He exits the airport, suitcase

Comments

Good for Ella XD

[penrosestairs]

He stares at Harry's hair now, wondering why the other version of him couldn't manage to neaten it. Arthur had dark curls, but he kept them tamed with a great deal of hair gel and practice. This boy was at least ten years younger than he was, however, so perhaps his life didn't need him to look neat.

"I'm Arthur," he replied. Simply Arthur, because he doesn't give out his full name to just anyone, especially someone he's met on the street. His last name is a guarded secret because it, like his totem, is useful for separating reality from the dream world.

He supposes they could be related, but he's not entirely sure. He doesn't know of any Potters, and this young man is British. Arthur is from Illinois, not England. This doesn't make any sense at all, and Arthur hates situations that make no sense. He's not comfortable with them.

"Why do you look like me?" he asks, sure there's some sort of logical explanation. Now he's convinced that an Architect has learned of his totem and is manipulating him with it. That is the only explanation, but he might shoot this copy of himself as a last resort. He has a bit of a twitchy trigger finger.

[onlypotter]

Harry nods at the response. He certainly doesn't know any Arthurs, especially ones that apparently have no last name. This is only making a small amount of sense to Harry as well.

If there are multiple universes, there are countless possibilities for how people can look. Why would one that looks practically identical to Harry be in the same city? The probability has to be astronomical.

"I honestly can't say," Harry says, and he has his hand near his pocket so he can reach for his wand if necessary. "I was going to ask you the same question."

Is he from Chicago? Is he a native or did he fall through the Rift? Harry is trying to figure out how to best word a question that might give him an idea without revealing that he's a wanderer.

"Have... you been in Chicago long?"

[penrosestairs]

He's in Chicago? That makes him close to his home, much as it pains him to think of that. Obviously he wasn't from a big city, but he's been to Chicago before. It looks familiar, and he hasn't been here in a while, but something is still off.

This isn't his Chicago and now he's convinced, more than ever, that it's a dream.

"I was in California," he says, slipping his gun back into the shoulder holster. He'll shoot Harry if he feels threatened, but for now he wants to talk to him and get answers. Projections don't normally talk back, and they don't normally look like him. "How did I get here?"

[onlypotter]

Wanderer.

If someone doesn't know how they've gotten from one state to another, they have to be a wanderer. Harry has never actually given the Welcome to Chicago speech before.

Of course, he'll have to try his first time with someone that looks exactly like him and carries a gun. This is typical.

"This isn't going to make much sense, and you might not believe me," Harry says to start out with. He doesn't look to be someone that is familiar with magic or the unexplainable but there's no telling that from first glance. "You fell through a Rift from your universe into this one. A Rift is a tear in space and time. Unfortunately, there's... no way back to your own universe. I fell through a few months ago. I suppose that explains how we... look so alike."

He isn't entirely certain that it does explain anything at all, and he's decided that he doesn't like giving the Welcome to Chicago speech. It only seems to create more questions, and he doesn't have answers for most of them.

[penrosestairs]

He narrows his eyes and listens to Harry talk, taking in all the information. Now granted, it doesn't really make much sense, but he supposes that it wouldn't. This isn't the sort of thing he hears of on a regular basis, even in his line of work.

There's a Rift in space and time. He has a really have time understanding how that could even be true. A rift, and he's at the center of it? Why him? If anyone would be useful to steal, it would be Saito because of his connections. Arthur has no power outside the dreams.

"So you're from a different universe?" he asks, trying to understand what the hell is going on. He doesn't really want to, actually, but he supposed if he's stuck here (and he doesn't actually believe he is) that he better familiarize himself with the reality of his situation. Of course, he also thinks it's not reality at all.

[onlypotter]

Harry adjusts the glasses on his face. It's a nervous compulsion. The man seems to be taking the information well.

There's no denial or fear or anger even, but then again, he doesn't seem like the type of person to reveal very much. Dumbledore wasn't either, but he kept from revealing much in an entirely different way.

"Yes. We are both from different universes," he says, glancing down at the pavement and then back at Arthur... who looks just like him. It's still difficult to come to grips with that. "There is a Tower that will give you a room to stay in for free since you technically don't... exist in this one."

His hands slide into his pockets.

"I was on my way there."

[penrosestairs]

Arthur is good at taking bad information well. He's been told dozens of times that he has to be shot in the head, or they will fail the job. He can handle bad news; it's news that he can't control or understand that makes him a little testy.

So yes, he's a little bit testy. It's not Harry's fault, but all Arthur wants to do is take a bullet to the head and get it over with. Unfortunately, he doesn't know what will happen if he does that, so he's stuck here, in Chicago, trying to figure out if he should take the plunge. Suicide isn't his idea of a good time.

"Take me to this Tower then," he replies, nodding his head. "That seems to be the best course of action until I can ascertain what is really going on." Because he doesn't actually believe he's in an alternate universe. This is an elaborate dream. It has to be, and right now he's going to cling to that.

[onlypotter]

Harry has dealt with worse than someone who was a little testy, and he has always expected that he'd be faced with hysterics the first time that he gave that speech.

Arthur clearly doesn't believe him, which is fine. He isn't going to try to convince anyone that they'll be here for the rest of their lives. There's a part of him that hates to believe it still too.

He has left so much behind in his own world. Purpose, meaning. And he is here.

"Follow me," Harry says as he starts toward the Tower again. Unfortunately, he's not very good at making conversation. There are other parts to that speech, aren't there? "There are inexplicable things here. It's not safe. You might want to... keep that gun with you when you go out. Monsters fall through. There is a group of people that hate wanderers. They're trying to kill them... essentially. It's best to keep yourself protected."

[penrosestairs]

Arthur probably isn't capable of hysterics. He's fairly adept at most things he'd tried, and he has no problem with anger or condescension, but he just doesn't do hysterical. It doesn't work well with his job, and there have been far worse situations worth being hysterical over. This is not one of there. Right now he's safe and there's no fear of death. He's not running away in a panic or being shot. He's all good, except the part where he's positive this must be a dream.

He follows Harry, and unfortunately he's not much good at conversation either. It's never been a big part of his life, except when he's trying to hustle someone in an extraction. He's perfectly capable of it, mind you, and has no real issue with small talk, but he spends so much time at it, faking it, that doing it for real feels foreign and wrong.

He lets everything Harry is telling him sink in. There are monsters. Anti-wanderers, which he is, apparently. A wanderer, not anti. He'd be stupid to be anti-himself. This sounds incredibly complicated, but at least he's used to that whole life or death experience.

"So there are monsters... and there are people that want me dead... and I'm in an alternate reality where there's a teenage version of me," he repeats, shaking his head. "I'm going to find a gun shop and buy a few extra firearms, I think. Maybe a grenade launcher." Eames did always say he needed to dream a little bigger. Now seems like the time.

[onlypotter]

Harry couldn't manage hysterics either, and he appreciates anyone else that can't. There have been times when he's been emotional, but if he'd fallen into hysterics, he never would have survived.

As long as he's not expected to keep his own end of the conversation up, he doesn't mind that Arthur isn't good at small talk either. He fell through a Rift into another universe. One would think there would be so much to talk about but there isn't really.

He blinks a little, turning to look at him as they walk. "A grenade launcher?"

Harry is not quite certain what to make of that. He looks straight ahead again and shakes his head.

"And I wouldn't say that I'm a teenage version of you, because I'm not Arthur. I'm Harry Potter, and I'm from England. I don't carry guns, I carry..." Well, this isn't going to go over well either. "Wands. We just... look alike."

[penrosestairs]

"Either way, I'm having trouble separating the reality of who you actually are and what my eyes perceive you as," Arthur admits, glancing around. The tower is large, and it makes him nervous. That being said, at least he's going somewhere rather than wandering the streets of Chicago like a complete idiot. His mind goes back to the park he was in, and all of a sudden he sees a hole, barely visible, in front of him. He takes a few steps, and sees the park there, just as it was a few minutes before.

He holds out his hand, and it slides through the hole. He can feel the air on the other side, a slightly different temperature. What the hell is this?

HE glances back at Harry, his expression visibly confused. This isn't right, and he wants to take another step forward through the Arthur-sized hole, but he's nervous and doesn't want to risk it. Arthur doesn't take risks. He researches and confirms. This is not the sort of situation he enjoys. "What is going on? Is this normal?" The hole suddenly seals up, and he barely has a chance to remove his hand in time.

[onlypotter]

Harry nods. It makes as much sense as anything else. He's keeping his focus directly forward so he doesn't have to look at Arthur, because it is confusing. He doesn't know that he'll ever get used to it, but at least they won't be immediately mistaken for one another. They look different enough.

He freezes at the sight of the hole. This is unexpected. As if his first time leading a wanderer back to the tower couldn't get any weirder, there has to be some hole that seems to be the perfect size for that wanderer to walk through.

"I'm... not really sure," Harry admits and then shakes his head. "It's not normal, which is saying something for this city. I don't-- Did you do that? The Rift changes people when they go through it. Maybe this is... how it changed you."

It still doesn't explain how it's changed him or what that bloody hole is.

"It didn't hurt you to put your hand through it." It might mean that it's safe. Might, but that's a lot to bet on a might, not that Harry hasn't done that before. He's wagered his safety on a less certain bet.

[penrosestairs]

No. Arthur looks like the really uptight version of Harry. Additionally, he's about a decade older and it shows, but not so much physically as in his eyes. They're worn, like he's seen too much. His life hasn't exactly been painful, especially not in the way Harry's has, but he's been more than a bit morally lax. Part of the job, and sometimes it wears on him. He's seen people kill for the pettiest things and really Chicago is a bit of a vacation.

He shouldn't find the hole so amazing because it's so terrifying, but Arthur lives half his life in dreams now. For reality to be like this is almost a dream come true. If reality was more like a dream, then extractors wouldn't seek an escape so often. Arthur can't dream outside of an extraction, and that's almost painful.

"I couldn't do it before I got here..." he remarks, shaking his head. "This is new, very new..." The hole closes up completely and he steps away from it, taking his die out and rolling it between his fingers. It's almost like a nervous twitch, constant and necessary. "Is there someone that can help me figure it out?" Arthur isn't going to dwell. He's going to figure all of this out.