OPEN and INCOMPLETE.

[dreamesbig]

Characters: Eames (dreamesbig), Arthur (specificities) and any one else around!
Setting/Location: Streamdrab.
Date & Time: Day nine.
Warnings: none!
Summary: Just another one of those "waking up" posts. Everyone is free to join!

Comments

[specificities]

Arthur wakes to the feeling of drowning. Or, at least, there is a brief moment of that jerking awake where you think you're drowning only to discover, instead that your face has been gingerly lied down in a puddle of mud. He is breathing in liquefied dirt and there is the pitter-patter, vaguely ticklish feel of tiny feet running across his ear that makes him whack himself hard enough in the head to groan. Brown bubbles form out of his exasperation. There is dead bug in his ear and against the palm of his hand. He feels nauseous. He blames Yusuf. He coughs, grimacing as dirt flicks up against his face, and finally uses his hands to shove himself up, rocking back into a sitting position as he uses the cuffs of his shirt to clean the mud from around his eyes. The links dig into the skin of his cheeks and leave angry red marks, and he spits once - twice - before he opens his eyes. He thinks, he hasn't had a dream in a forest in a long time - before he remembers he shouldn't be dreaming and his stomach drops as his fists jams in his

[dreamesbig]

This was probably the biggest set of trees he’d ever been able to witness; its sheer abnormality led his mind to believe it was still a dream… but then again, he had never been to Iceland. He’d never heard anywhere that the largest trees were in Iceland, of all places.

By this point, Eames had no idea where he was heading. He was unarmed and lost---and if this was truly reality, there were no signs of the others, whether or not the plane had crashed. It was perhaps the shocking aftereffects of Yusuf’s chemicals, but he had sort of expected the chemist would have warned them. Who knew what other hidden risks the sedative, anyway? For all they knew, going into limbo could’ve been part of Cobb’s plan (that bastard). His mind was racing for people to blame, but Christ, there wasn’t a soul to blame

MY TENSES ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE....

[specificities]

Arthur's cheek was beginning to itch. He scratched it quickly against his thumbnail, frowning at the voice. Was it - Eames? It was Eames. For God's sake, he refused to be stuck in whatever this was (limbo, a more irrational part of himself feared, but the totem still had to count for something) for eternity with the forger, of all people. He'd rather have been alone. Yet, what if it wasn't Eames at all? With the very nature of this landscape, it could very well be something else. A projection, maybe. Even another forger. A forger forging a forger. That would certainly be frustrating. The very fact that he couldn't remember how he got here was alarming in that itself, his previous memory only pertaining to setting off the charges on the elevator and surging towards a kick. Within all reason, he should be on a plane.

Within all reason, the centipede crawling past his field of vision and up the tree should not have been so large

YEAH, WELL, YOUR TENSES SHOULD BE AGAINST MY BODY....

[dreamesbig]

Well, that voice certainly sounded familiar, and it even knew his name! So, he did an act of pure instinct and replied (as if excessive planning was part of his life): “Why don’t we find out, eh?” After a couple seconds, Eames got up again, peeking from behind the tree, hoping the other would soon show himself.

The waiting was dreadful, to say in the least. For one, Eames was not quite the most patient man in the planet. It didn’t help that this entire…scenario…could have easily been the results of someone’s mistake. He didn’t have time for dilly-dallying, after all. The only thing he wanted to do was…well, get the hell home. “We’ll show ourselves on the count of three.”

After taking in a sharp intake of breath, he counted: “One… two…”

[fixdpointintime]

Jack opened his eyes and took a deep breath. Not an 'alive again' breath. That was good. Well, no, not really, but it was less awful. He smelled pine. Not the artificial pine scent that was used to mask the musty tang of recycled air that had been filtered one too many times - not a space pine, but a real, planetary, dirt and water and sunlight and growth and death pine. That was wrong. There were no pine trees in this place. The hydroponic systems could barely produce enough edible vegetation to keep a skeleton crew from succumbing to mineral deficiency, and even that hadn't been active in years. Decades? No, only years

[dreamesbig]

He’d gotten just a little carried away as he typed his way through the network, although not too efficiently with his lack of spelling glamour, and quickly discovering that it wasn’t him or perhaps even Arthur that had messed up; it was something much greater than the works of dream thieves, especially after witnessing that conversation between Arthur and that… Cassandra. (And what the hell kind of question was ‘are you dead too?’ anyway?)

Eames closed the Junogam as soon as he’d read enough, having a difficult time dealing with the new information. He should be in his hotel room right now, after all. …So why the hell did he wake up outside?

“Looks like Cobb isn’t here,” he said, almost defeated, “Not yet, any-shh!” Eames tossed his head around as soon as he heard footsteps. “Did you hear that?

[specificities]

Whether or not what Eames had heard had been friend or foe, Arthur was sure that with as much as the brit yapped their position was more than announced. He nodded curtly, eyes darting about the forest before he tugged - not too kindly - on the fabric of Eames' jacket to direct him. Being weaponless, finding a way out was of most importance - a way out of the forest, a way out of this dream-not-dream, perhaps even a kick. So far, Arthur had determined, he was simply surrounded by crazed persons that would be of little use to him. Cassandra... she seemed as if she was the type of person whom had just come off of psychiatric medicine. The thoeries, the paranoia... No, Arthur would not be one to consider such things. Waking up in another place was everything akin to a dream - the only thing that remained was that he was dreaming his totem correctly. As was Eames, apparently.

"Let's move," he uttered quietly, pocketing the Junogam. "We don't have time to waste."

[fixdpointintime]

The incredibly loud 'shush'ing had indeed defeated its own purpose and alerted Jack to the presence of other people ahead of him. He didn't particularly want to find people, but he also didn't care enough to change direction. He got the impression, from the way the wildlife had formed around the meandering path he was taking, that at one point it had been a somewhat well-used trail or road. It was subtle, and he might have been mistaken, but he doubted it. Roads led from one place to another, which meant he was going in the direction of the beginning or the end. In either case, he'd find something more interesting than creepy oversize nature