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[shifts]

I suppose whatever force behind the city couldnt part from me for too long. Apparently Im back just in time for the holidays ? With a few surprises in the mix, in fact. It could be worse; it could be one of those visitor weekends

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action;

[oneminutemaze]

[ Hello Eames. Did you miss Waffle? Because judging by the way he's just started making kissing noises at you, he missed you.

But don't worry, Ariadne's in the house. Somewhere. ]

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[shifts]

[ Oh Mister Waffle ooohhh. Eames certainly did not, so he enters Ariadne's room long enough to goad Waffle onto his hand and back into his cage, securing it shut this time. It wouldn't appear that Ariadne has stashed any cigarettes here, and his own is near depleted - but it does well enough, anyway, considering he'd been trying to quit ever since picking the habit back up again in the City. Shutting the door behind him again as he steps back out into the hall, he makes his way downstairs to check there. ]

action;

[oneminutemaze]

[ Those kissing noises follow Eames as he exits Ariadne's room, accompanied by a squawk of "Lemon!" from the bird until the door is shut. As for the cigarettes, well, they're with Ariadne, who is currently stepping back inside and tucking her pack back into her pocket. What a weekend. ]

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[shifts]

[ Bird stop trying to flirt, Eames simply does not roll that way. He spots Ariadne though as soon as he's hit the bottom landing, brow raising a bit. ] Ariadne.

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[oneminutemaze]

[ Whoops. Busted. ] Hey. [ She shuts the door before resting one hand on the wall, one leg raising as her other hand starts to pull a boot off. ]

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[shifts]

And here I thought you were only a social smoker, [ Eames points out needlessly as he approaches, hand out to take her boots to put in the hall closet. ]

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[oneminutemaze]

Someone had to pick up your bad habits. [ She passes him the first, switching legs to take off the other before handing him that one, too. ] Besides, I had your lighter to use.

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[shifts]

You didn't have to use something that didn't belong to you, [ he quips, taking both booties and tucking them under his arm. With her hand still outstretched, though, he's able to pluck up her wrist, turning her palm over to him. ] Have a story for me?

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[oneminutemaze]

I did, actually-- [ Her explanation dies in her throat as her wrist is grasped and turned, however, revealing the scar on her hand. ] There was a curse. I dropped a glass because of it and cut my hand open on the pieces.

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[shifts]

Sounds like one Hell of a curse, yeah? [ His thumb brushes over the mark, still fresh and shiny with scartissue before he lets her go, turning to the few steps to put her shoes away. ]

action;

[oneminutemaze]

[ Ariadne blinks at him as he turns away before shaking herself slightly. It's only been a few seconds for him, not the three weeks it's been for everyone else. He's back like he never left, while the rest of them have to readjust. ] I relived someone else's memory. It was the day you disappeared, actually.

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[shifts]

Memory?

[ There's a pause, Eames fenagling with the coats in the closet to get the door to shut properly before he can turn back to her. ]

How do you know?

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[oneminutemaze]

Because the person whose memory I relived got one of mine.

[ She pauses and then, quickly: ]

Nothing about the job or anything, though.

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[shifts]

[ Admittedly, it's not too far fetched. If Arthur can lose his memory, or at least have it locked away from him, what's the extra step in viewing someone else's? He can recall well enough one of his own going on display in the network, though still has no explanation for it. ]

What was it of?

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[oneminutemaze]

[ She's seen memories before -- Cobb's, recreated so that he can try and change them, despite the fact that he never can. It was one of those memories that Harry saw, a ruined hotel room with Mal asking her a riddle.

She moves past him, down the hall and toward the living room. ] I was in a graveyard, tied to a headstone. There was a man, but he was... wrong. Red eyes, slit pupils, next to no nose; very snakelike. There were other people, too, but they were all in masks. We dueled. [ A pause. ] It was more like torture, at first. That was when I dropped the glass.

action;

[shifts]

It sounds more like a bad dream.

[ He follows her to the living room, taking a seat on one of the armchairs. His posture is, for the most part, lazy - but he remains attentive, watching Ariadne. ]