When will my reflection show who I am inside?

[rainingcereal]

Characters: specificities , rainingcereal. Let either of us know if you want to drop in and get confused.
Setting/Location: Along the corridor
Date & Time: Day 25, evening
Warnings: Neil. And Arthur. I think they each need their own warning.
Summary: Arthur arranges to show Neil around the caravan. Meeting of the JGL-clones.

Comments

THIS LOG TITLE I DONT EVEN 8)

[specificities]

If Neil was new, that meant he came here from - Kansas, wasn't it? While Arthur wouldn't normally being playing tour guide to newcomers, he needed to see if there was some sort of theme in everyone's arrival - regardless whether or not they were somehow individual people (maybe people that had been on the airplane) or just projections. While the caravan was large, most of its space was the rooming towers, and it wasn't as if Arthur would have to spend much time on the tour - he could focus on Neil's origin instead. He stepped into the main lobby from the tower stairwell, searching among the people present for someone who matched Neil's description

ARE YOU DISSING DISNEY?!

[rainingcereal]

Neil looked up at the greeting, and then froze when he found himself looking straight at the same face he saw everyday.

"Fuck," he swore, tilting his head to one side and then the other, as if to see if the other man would follow suit. He didn't. No, not a reflection then. And then went on to catalogue the differences between them.

The dressing, definitely. The eye color. The length of hair. Arthur was older too. Well- this was-

"...freaky."

NO MULAN IS MY FAVORITE LMFAOOO

[specificities]

Arthur didn't have an explanation for this, and he hated the idea of coincidence being his only explanation. This was important, somehow, this similarity - but assuming he had something in common to a prostitute seemed... rather unlikely. Projection or otherwise, this incident was beyond strange to the point of mildly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he agreed at length. He filed this away to reflect on later - whether or not he'd end up using Eames as a board was questionable. He'd like to avoid the likely inevitable teasing.

"You said you were from Kansas?" he questioned. "Is that where you were before you ended up here?"

GOOD, BECAUSE YOU NEVER DISS DISNEY. Unless you are dissing Hannah Montana, then feel free.

[rainingcereal]

Neil didn't think he would mind if he aged to look like Arthur. The older man was handsome, if only a little severe. Then again, age would do that to a person. Stress from work and all that.

"Hutchinson. I was back home for Christmas." He shrugged and looked around them, before turning his attention back to Arthur again.

"Is this an interrogation?"

i-i love hannah montana... ;_;

[specificities]

"No. Just curious." Arthur supposed he could sympathize in an annoyance for prying, but he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Come on," he offered, gesturing with a hand for Neil to follow him. "I'll show you around. This thing is pretty massive, but most of the layout is sectioned off for the rooming towers."

He nodded over to a long list tacked onto one of the far walls in the lobby. "There's the room assignments. They're sectioned off by tower."

[rainingcereal]

Neil paused a little before moving, not wanting to appear too eager or too curious. That's what got him into trouble in the first place. Something must have shown on his face that night, before he was brought to Brighton Beach. Some desperation.

Slut.

He shook his head, and tucked his hands deeper into his pockets, wishing that he had the sense to bring his jacket out.

"There are quite a lot of people here."

[specificities]

"Yeah. Everyone gives different answers as to where they're from," Arthur added before leading the way to the kitchens. It was pretty self-explanatory, and none of it was really up to modern standards - that was, granted, assuming Neil was even from modern times, but considering his clothes Arthur could guess as much. Most of the time, cooks working on the caravan were the ones to fix up meals - otherwise, passengers were left up to their own devices.

"What year do you think it is?"

[rainingcereal]

Not that Neil could cook anyway. His mother did all the cooking at home, and when he moved to New York, Wendy took care of him. When she was too busy to? Well, cold ham worked just as well. And he could always get a john to treat him to drinks and fries at the bar before taking him somewhere to fuck.

"1991 where I'm from. No fucking idea which century we are in here." He was still counting on him dreaming, or just on a very bad trip.