[ The video kicks in with the view of Eames' office at the art gallery. He's sitting beside the propped open window, smoke curling out of the gap from the cigarette between his fingers. He looks put together still, tie snug against his throat and his cufflinks glinting as he moves. He looks normal. He's anything but. ]

Arthur's gone. [ It's ( Read more... )

[ Loki, the god of tricks, is gazing kindly into his camera. He looks perfectly at peace, and the camera is centred on him so that his head, neck and shoulders are visible. What can be seen of his clothing marks them out as ordinary yet tailored; a crisp white shirt, a dark green silk tie, a grey suit jacket, and a dark brown overcoat. His black ( Read more... )

[A young woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a curious tattoo over her eyes appears on the screen.] Allow me to introduce myself, I'm a girl of wealth and taste. [She smiles briefly before giving a quick wave.] Now that you've got the Stones in your head, hello. I'm Layla Miller. I know stuff. And I need a small favor ( Read more... )

[ He looks extraordinarily pleased with himself when the feed kicks in, tie unravelled slightly from the centre of his collar. It's not his usual sort of garb, too neatly pressed, a little severe than his own personal style, but he wears it well. If he weren't grinning, his personality might have been shifted a point. As it is, this look on his ( Read more... )

[ Never let it be said that Eames drags his heels. He may not know where they're staying yet, or what he's actually going to do in this godforsaken place, but he has found a bar. If the video on the network is anything to go by. Ladies, gentleman, and those who are unestablished as of yet, I have found the mecca of all things. There are drinks in ( Read more... )