⚂ [ p o l y c h r o m a t i c ][ AUDIO || timestamp : 11PM

[specifics]

[ Audio fizzles in... ]

---nd now that stupid sound is going to be happening for the next hour, every ten minutes.

[ GARBLED SOUND STATIC ETC with the intermittent pirate sound/word/phrase/etc - with British flair...which in this case means it's Eames. Sadly. ]

You need to stop talking like that.

Guess Ariadne picked a good time to leave, if

Comments

[shifts]

You need to find your sea legs.

Isn't that right, Waffle?

[ The bird only flaps its wings unsteadily before going back to attempting to groom the bandanna wrapped haphazardly around Eames' head. ]

Now, what is it we've got so far?

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I need to find land.

[ Arthur eyes Waffle with mild chagrin. Why is it the bird gets to come along? Where is Pancake? And also... ]

Coins. Stuff. I don't know. [ He glances at his watch. ] Three minutes and counting.

[shifts]

I don't suppose there's anything else worth grabbing onto.

[ Eames finally hops down the final few feet from the netting he'd used to scale upward to the nest of the ship in the first place, Waffle chirping loudly from being jostled and beaking its way from one shoulder to the other, re-situating himself. ]

Peculiar noise, wouldn't you arrrrgree.

[specifics]

[ Sometimes there Just Aren't Words for the way Eames makes Arthur feel.

A few that come close, however may consist of but not be limited to: violent, irritable, impatient, more violent, and....well, violent again. He paces a little and continues to eye the bird with some misgivings. ]

Don't say that. Don't say anything.

[shifts]

[ Eames has many faces, the most prominent among them being - aside from his serious business endeavors - the trololololol. He only blinks once, though, lips quirking briefly. ]

Sorry? Don't think I quite caught that one.

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[ Arthur hates that face. He's reconsidering Saya's suggestion. For the moment. Maybe.

Either way he throws his hands up in the air and walks to the other side of the deck - apparently deciding that if Eames isn't going to take the wiser and more benevolent path of Silent as the Grave, then he will. He'd go below deck but he's not altogether certain the stupid cabins won't crush in on him when the world changes again, which if the pattern holds, it should be doing any minute now. ]

[shifts]

[ Usually Eames leaves Arthur well enough alone - contrary to popular belief, he isn't so much of the pestering sort. Still, as the familiar horns continue to be drawn out through the sea air, not even having the sounds of waves to drown them, he's of the opinion that there are certain things that can't be left well enough alone.

Whether or not he's continuing to speak like a pirate is just a detail for the sake of the setting, really. ]

Have you thought about it?

[ A kick - not so much in the dropping sense, as they need someone up a level for it to work in the mechanics of it, but the physical pressure of a kick. Arthur's tried it and Eames isn't sure how to broach it, but really, there you have it. ]

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What do you think? Obviously.

[ He pauses in the pacing stride enough until he's actually at a full stop, arms folded as he shrugs, glancing out at the blue-black distance of water and sky. ]

Certain things don't fit.

[ The regularity serves no purpose if this is the result of foul play and if it isn't, if it's some fluke borne of Somnacin and too many shared dreams, it is hard to believe when the truth is Arthur has - by now - shared as many dreams if not more with Dominick Cobb. He knows he doesn't have to say this for the actuality of the numbers to be something they're both aware of. Under his breath there is another sigh, and he lets his arms fall to his side before walking to the nearest edge, turning so his back presses against the railing, staring back at Eames - some of that shrug still evident in his expression. ]

[shifts]

Ariadne's departure.

Not soon after, all this. [ He flicks his hand briefly around them before folding his arms across his chest, fingers scraping against the stubble on the underside of his jaw. ]

It could very well be something.

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[ Arthur's mouth quirks to one side, not quite frowning as he draws a profile, staring down the line of the ship's side toward the bow. ]

There's no distinct reason to connect those things.

[ Which isn't the same as ruling it out; he's not. But he thinks it might be better for them to work from the vantage where they lean closer to believing this is a part of the City's normal mechanisms rather than something unprecedented. Going back far enough on the archive, Arthur found some evidence of world travel though the directness of likeness was hard to discern - particularly in the wholeness of the world, if they changed or if they only had blinks of reality. ]

[shifts]

No?

Lack of distinction doesn't mean lack of reason entirely.

[ Which they are both aware of. Still, Eames pads forward, bracing his arms against the rail as he leans forward a bit, peering overboard down to the waves. ]

This much change, though. I would think it would spark something.

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[ Arthur is following his reply until the last and at that he turns so that they are facing the same direction, though his gaze flits again to Waffle - ever present on Eames' shoulder, well, at least today. ]

'Something'? Something like what?

[ More change is, Arthur feels, an inadequate answer, not that there is much room here for accuracy, considering all the things they simply don't know. ]

[shifts]

Well- aggression. Our own defenses. In a natural sense, our subconscious adapts to the changes we implement, but-

[ Idly, he reaches into his trouser pocket to grab a small cracker, breaking it in half to feed to Waffles. ]

I don't think either of this are instigating these sorts of changes.

[specifics]

No, but so far the things that seem to have all the control are the 'deities', except, I guess, when their City...breaks?

[ It's a little hard for him to get his mind around the idea of a place one lives - even in a dream ironically - as a thing, a mechanism like a clock or any other tangible item rather than a locale comprised as much of people as buildings. He mulls it over anyway, frowning at the water like it's offensive; it might be, surely midnight has happened? Where the hell are they now? Arthur thinks he would like a map. ]

That suggests there's some other...whatever pulling strings or holding some of the... [ he gestures with a hand, grasping for a word ] control. Unless this place really is like a snowglobe and they really are fixing the gears underneath.

I'd say we could go look but I can't hold my breath for that long.

[ His frown at the water becomes a milder, dryer expression. ]

[shifts]

It's a bit unfortunate you weren't turned into a mermaid for this day, isn't it? Then again, I suppose that keeps anyone from the persuasion to search for something they ought not to.

And it's far too early in history for a sub.

[ He glances at Waffle dubiously, who pays very little attention to either of them as he nibbles at his cracker. No, not a better option, either. ]

The stopping of the clock, the clones-

I think now's the proper time to tell you of train down below, isn't it?

[specifics]

[ The mermaid comment gets a Disdainful Look and nothing much else, but the mention of the train earns Arthur actually turning toward Eames again. He already doesn't like the sound of this.

Mostly because, you know, he thought they had agreed. No Underground.

Apparently not. He doesn't say anything, just stares at the other man and waits. ]