[ Video ]

[elegantinmind]

[ A slender but well-built man in an expensive three-piece suit and slicked back hair comes into focus, expression close to blank bar the crease in the centre of his forehead, which, to anyone who knows what to look for, means that he's worried beneath the cool and collected exterior, brain working hard and faster to keep up with what's going on

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[alengthofsilk]

[Cinna's perched on a coffee table while he replies, the flat behind him has a distinct 'I just moved in' vibe, characterised by not having a complete set of furniture and piles of shopping bags in the corner]

How do you shoot your way out of a place exactly?

[elegantinmind]

[ It takes Arthur a moment to figure out the device enough to speak into the thing, taking note of the details. Everything about this place is giving him a headache. Is this one of the dreamers? Or a projection. ]

Hope you never have to find out. [ A thoughtful pause. ] Do you know why I'm wanted here?

[alengthofsilk]

[This makes Cinna frown but from what he can tell everyone's home world has left them dubious of this one, even those who'd been pulled from another place previous to this one seemed cautious, so he doesn't question the man on this.]

I'm afraid none of us do. People just get pulled here from home, where or when ever that might be.

[elegantinmind]

[ Arthur stares blankly into the lens. This is a new one. But, still, it could be worse, projections could be swarming him, trying to take him out. ]

And no one knows how we actually got here? Because I have somewhere I need to be.

[eamesofdreams]

[ Your device is buzzing, Arthur. ]

stay where u r. ill be rite there.

[elegantinmind]

[ Arthur looks at the thing, works it out easily, and sees the text. He freezes. That can only be Eames.

The crease deepens now, but he stays where he is, reaches for the gun concealed in his pocket, and keeps his eyes peeled as he leans gingerly against a crumbling wall alongside the pavement. ]

[eamesofdreams]

[ It takes him ten minutes to get out of the art gallery, then he practically legs it down the street. He's spent a good bit of time mapping out Londonium, recognized the place from Arthur's screen, and he's not going to let him disappear again. His heart is thudding in his chest, wild and panicked.

Calling out. ] Arthur!

[elegantinmind]

[ Arthur turns towards the call of his name, expression neutral, but he's pleased to see a familiar face, and one that he's come to trust. Sort of.

He steps forward, tucks the device away. ] So this is your doing, Mr Eames?

[creativequeen]

Arthur [And Ariadne sounds very relieved as she appears on the video]

Where are you?

[elegantinmind]

[ It's been a while since he last saw her, and something soft crosses over his expression, a soft glint in his eye. ] Ariadne.

[ He looks around him, a tug of amusement lifting at the corner of his mouth, because that's a good question. ] I wish I knew. [ He's frustrated by the fact he doesn't. ] As far as I can tell, I'm in the middle of someone's Latin London dream, and I would like to leave.

[creativequeen]

[He doesn't remember it. Ariadne shuts her eyes briefly so that Arthur will not see any disappointment or pain.]

We aren't in a dream and no one has discovered how to leave. [Unless they just vanish like Arthur had.]

[elegantinmind]

[ He hesitates before speaking, taking this in and rolling it around his mind. ]

Reality. Check. I am fond of my totem, so that's a relief. [ If it was compromised, he would be sad, but he trusts her completely, and if she says that this isn't a dream then he believes it. ] If it's not a dream, then where are we?