4th wall || morning of November 29th || not the limbo you are looking forfraudulentNovember 28 2010, 10:12:33 UTC
[He hears her voice. It's a bell's toll or a siren's call but a bell was never living and a siren is a myth, so maybe she is both of these things now. Dominic Cobb only ever waxed poetics about love and dreams, two creations that became mutual, or maybe always were.
Anyway, he hears her voice, which isn't quite right for all kinds of reasons.
You're waiting for a train.
Same line. Same thing. Same ghost.
"No, I'm not. I can't do this anymore." His mouth shapes the words but he doesn't know what kind of expression he's wearing. He owes a many-times dead woman more than this; it's his fault she is gone at all and it has been his punishment and his grace since she jumped to encounter her in the dreamscape. Dom doesn't necessarily believe he deserves better than to die by her spectral hand, but their children do deserve better and because they are not old enough to decide at guessing about their mother and their father and the in-between they still love him and there is still time
( ... )
[ In other words, Arthur's not sure. The words not good are recurrent for a reason. Dom doesn't think for a second that the point man is joking. It's not exactly in his reputation to throw casual assertions out as mere fun when it's something like this, like limbo but not limbo. He can feel Arthur's gaze, feel the way it fixes not just a look but his words into place, says: even if he's not sure it's not for lack of trying, which is maybe the most unsettling thing so far. ]
Any sign of...things wavering? [ The dream shifting, falling apart, maybe even quietly in a way they're not expecting. That's what he means and he knows he doesn't have to explain as much, not to Arthur anyway, which is fortunate. His voice has gone positively raspy. Swallowing a sigh, he frowns, looking away. ]
No. Not like things normally would in a dream. [ Arthur brings his free hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Explaining all this again is always tedious. ] I can't manipulate it either. [ He pauses for a few moments to collect his thoughts. Projection or trick or whatever he may be, it's possible that Cobb could have valuable information he could make use of. ]
How does this place feel to you right now? As opposed to when you were in limbo before? [ Arthur turns his attention to the path ahead again. The beach is starting to give way into a lightly forested grassy expanse that now lies between them and the outer reaches of the City. ]
[ That's a question Dom has been considering and mulling over with little to call substantial as an answer, but he digs up something that resembles one. ] Earthier. [ It's no better than manifesting his gut instinct into a word but it's an honest one, and if he's wrong it's an honest mistake too but he knows the air and the space in limbo felt clearer, sort of more like one imagines the metaphysical limbo to be without ever having been. Some of the shine may have been all Mal. It's hard to tell sometimes, in his own head. ]
And no, it's not just the trees. Besides, if you can't change anything...if the lines seem anchored... [ He trails off, just walking for a moment. Forest ground once reached is considerably...not easier to navigate. Blame it on the tree roots left without policing, Lord of the Rings style without the elves (well, or not, but Dom doesn't know this yet.)
But if the lines seem anchored...if they're root-deep...
Then where the hell are we? ]When you say 'wide variety'...what kind of number are we talking here--
( ... )
Earthier. [ Not the kind of answer he was necessarily looking for, but Cobb has a bad habit of being vague and Arthur's used to it. ] Care to elaborate?
[ He lets Cobb trail off. Arthur can only hope that he's slightly more coherent once he gets something to drink. ]
Approximately? There's easily thousands of people living here. It's a fully functioning city with its own economy and everything. [ He pauses to consider something. ] I even managed to get a job here. [ Arthur figures he might as well mention it. The tone of his voice shows just how ridiculous he finds the whole situation. ]
Grittier. Rougher around the edges. Not nearly as surreal. Take your pick.
Less dreamlike.
[ And here he doesn't say anymore again, digesting the idea of thousands of people which pales in difficulty compared to what he has to digest next. Arthur has a job. And he says that like it's normal.
There wasn't a job to have when...
He shakes his head absently. ]
A job?
[ Dom is more along the lines of incredulous rather than upset by it though by all rights he probably should be simply based on the fact that it's feeding into whatever they're stuck in, but if it's a functioning city then Arthur must have needed to make a living like he believed it, whether he did or not. The older man gets that, even if he doesn't want to believe it himself, less the job and more the idea that so many are trapped in one place where a simulacrum of life has been processed, provided, and accepted -- enough, anyway. ]
What kind of job?
[ He has gone tense with the consideration of it all. Vague though he may be, Dominic Cobb spent his golden years
( ... )
[ Cobb had a point. It wasn't just that he couldn't change his wardrobe to whatever he pleased. Sure, you could get dirty in a dream, but here it was... different. Things stuck with you in a way they didn't in dreams. It wasn't just because he'd been here for so long. Everything accumulated and built up in such a way dreams couldn't really account for. Eames had pointed out something about scents being more salient here than they usually were in dreams. ]
I work for a man who specializes in technological development. More specifically, I test weapons for him. [ Arthur notes Cobb's incredulous look, which isn't unexpected at all. He suppresses the urge to shrug and continues on through the forest instead. ] It gives me access to resources I otherwise wouldn't have access to as well as a salary. Like I said, it's a fully functioning city.
[ He notices out of the corner of his eye that Cobb's gazing up at him now. This much walking probably isn't doing him any favors. ] I'll grab you something from one of the coffee shops around town.
( ... )
[ Grimacing a little -- an acknowledgment of his own less than up-to-snuff equilibrium and of their situation on the whole even with vagueness around it -- he nods in agreement, not commenting on the job or the reiteration. No, he thinks it over instead, silent for a solid set of minutes and during that time Arthur may find himself used a little less crutch-like. ]
Thanks, Arthur.
[ Because it merits saying now and has merited being said in the past even if Dom never did. Oh he knows it, but like his apologies his thanks aren't ever doled out as much as they probably should be. And there are reasons, always reasons, but not so many justifications and none Dom would offer on his own. He just wouldn't see the point.
Walking with Arthur, it feels both like no time has passed and maybe like he spent years under whatever kind of maelstrom then chose to spit him up here. Hard to say. ]
[ His only response to Cobb's words is a curt nod. It's odd how one word can make Arthur feel something-he wouldn't call it a warm feeling necessarily-like relief. He mentally shakes himself with the reminder that this could very well be an impostor. Cobb hasn't necessarily said anything that Arthur didn't already know, he notes. And if there's any weakness that Arthur would admit to having, it would be his relationship with Cobb. He wouldn't put it beyond the deities to exploit that given the chance.
Instead of speaking, Arthur tightens his grip on Cobb's shoulder as he trudges on through the forest, which is quickly giving way to short grass and sparse shrubs. ]
[ What Dom conveys in his gratitude is a splinter's worth of what any objective audience could conclude he owes the point man, but things in life never work out that simply or cleanly or necessarily. Dom was a selfish man before he became what he exists as now, and the present has only further shifted that truth into harshness. He owes apologies. He owes thanks. He owes.
But what Dom actually ends up giving.
Well.
It's next to nothing.
Thank you is meager.
But it's what he's offering and Arthur's grip on him says the man accepts it in one way or another, accepts Dom himself for now unless otherwise proven.
. . .
Whatever coffee shop resides on the most outskirts of the City proper, that is where they end up -- Dom sitting in a way that suggests he might not be able to get back to his feet and it's only a little exaggerated. He really does feel like that walk was fifty times longer than it really was...but what is 'really'? Both hands previously folded in front of him, one slips into his pocket. Then he draws out Mal's totem and
( ... )
4th wall | sorry for taking so longwindsorknotDecember 6 2010, 03:08:37 UTC
[ Arthur lets out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding when the top finally falls. It's not that he was really expecting a different outcome. The confirmation itself, however, is a relief. Despite the fact that this doesn't help his situation at all, Arthur likes answers. It gives him more tools to approach his current problem with. In this case, the problem being the fact that he's still trapped here.
He sets down a bottle of cranberry juice on the table, but keeps the cup of coffee to himself. ]
Here, drink this.
[ Arthur takes a sip of his coffee-black with no sugar and just a hint of creamer-before continuing. ]
My totem seems to think this place is real, too. [ He punctuates the statement with a quirk of lips, just barely hinting at a smirk. ]
[ Dom lingers, his mind caught away from him again with his fingers clutching around the silver weight before he withdraws it, slipping it back into his pocket. Even then he eyes the proffered juice briefly, not warily so much as deciding whether or not his system is even up for it. Water might be better, except his stomach revolts at that too; probably comes from having been submerged in it for God knows how long. Nodding once, he takes the bottle, unscrewing it silently as Arthur speaks again.
His mouth flattens a little at the words, juice paused just short of his lips before he focuses on the barely-there smirk. Sipping once, he mulls this over for a second. ]
[ The smirk disappears as Arthur takes another sip of his coffee. The smell alone is enough to revitalize him a little.
That he can even find any kind of hilarity in the situation is another indication that he's spent far too long in this place. It's a sobering realization-one that he files away for future consideration. For now, his focus is turned to Cobb. ]
It's one theory of mine, yes.
[ He notes Cobb's reluctance and stands up again. ]
I'll see if they have something else available. A sports drink'd be better anyway. [ And he's off to the counter and back with a bottle of something labeled 'Aquarius' within a minute. He unscrews the cap and gently sets it down in front of Cobb. ]
[ Cobb, who even far gone as he might be is still Cobb, is also still the man who built a new if less than legal life extracting instead of building, tricking people's tells out of them and learning how to do well enough that he didn't even have to trick half of the time; people just handed their secrets over without even knowing. He catches the way Arthur's expression changes and concludes privately what it might mean though it's all just guesswork still on his part. His confrontation with Mal leaves him dead-cold still but he's sharper he thinks, or hopes, or both. ]
Great.
[ His exhale is rough, like scraping his air across sandpaper but he lifts his head, watching Arthur leave and return with a look gone meditative. ]
Thanks again. [ It's absolutely not lost on him that this is the most he's been up-front and grateful to Arthur in a while, and that it is with something so casual as a change of drinks is the kind of self-incrimination that Dom probably won't ever get out from under. Arthur -- this weird in-between excluded --
( ... )
[ Arthur watches Cobb down his drink. Once assured that Cobb isn't going to go into coughing fits, he lets himself take another sip of his coffee. At Cobb's thanks, he merely nods. He can't help but recall the time when they were first getting to know each other. Back when Cobb had somehow managed to lure him away from the military. Expressions of gratitude had been a lot more common then, but it's not like Arthur resents Cobb for that. A lot has happened since then. ]
A new litmus? Like what?
[ It's something Arthur had thought of before, of course. Though none of his solutions really satisfied him. He couldn't manipulate the dream. Eames couldn't forge. Those were sufficient litmus tests on their own. And while part of Arthur is willing to believe that this was in fact real, everything he's learned from experience warns him against falling back on that conclusion. ]
Anyway, he hears her voice, which isn't quite right for all kinds of reasons.
You're waiting for a train.
Same line. Same thing. Same ghost.
"No, I'm not. I can't do this anymore." His mouth shapes the words but he doesn't know what kind of expression he's wearing. He owes a many-times dead woman more than this; it's his fault she is gone at all and it has been his punishment and his grace since she jumped to encounter her in the dreamscape. Dom doesn't necessarily believe he deserves better than to die by her spectral hand, but their children do deserve better and because they are not old enough to decide at guessing about their mother and their father and the in-between they still love him and there is still time ( ... )
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Any sign of...things wavering? [ The dream shifting, falling apart, maybe even quietly in a way they're not expecting. That's what he means and he knows he doesn't have to explain as much, not to Arthur anyway, which is fortunate. His voice has gone positively raspy. Swallowing a sigh, he frowns, looking away. ]
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How does this place feel to you right now? As opposed to when you were in limbo before? [ Arthur turns his attention to the path ahead again. The beach is starting to give way into a lightly forested grassy expanse that now lies between them and the outer reaches of the City. ]
Reply
And no, it's not just the trees. Besides, if you can't change anything...if the lines seem anchored... [ He trails off, just walking for a moment. Forest ground once reached is considerably...not easier to navigate. Blame it on the tree roots left without policing, Lord of the Rings style without the elves (well, or not, but Dom doesn't know this yet.)
But if the lines seem anchored...if they're root-deep...
Then where the hell are we? ]When you say 'wide variety'...what kind of number are we talking here-- ( ... )
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[ He lets Cobb trail off. Arthur can only hope that he's slightly more coherent once he gets something to drink. ]
Approximately? There's easily thousands of people living here. It's a fully functioning city with its own economy and everything. [ He pauses to consider something. ] I even managed to get a job here. [ Arthur figures he might as well mention it. The tone of his voice shows just how ridiculous he finds the whole situation. ]
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Less dreamlike.
[ And here he doesn't say anymore again, digesting the idea of thousands of people which pales in difficulty compared to what he has to digest next. Arthur has a job. And he says that like it's normal.
There wasn't a job to have when...
He shakes his head absently. ]
A job?
[ Dom is more along the lines of incredulous rather than upset by it though by all rights he probably should be simply based on the fact that it's feeding into whatever they're stuck in, but if it's a functioning city then Arthur must have needed to make a living like he believed it, whether he did or not. The older man gets that, even if he doesn't want to believe it himself, less the job and more the idea that so many are trapped in one place where a simulacrum of life has been processed, provided, and accepted -- enough, anyway. ]
What kind of job?
[ He has gone tense with the consideration of it all. Vague though he may be, Dominic Cobb spent his golden years ( ... )
Reply
I work for a man who specializes in technological development. More specifically, I test weapons for him. [ Arthur notes Cobb's incredulous look, which isn't unexpected at all. He suppresses the urge to shrug and continues on through the forest instead. ] It gives me access to resources I otherwise wouldn't have access to as well as a salary. Like I said, it's a fully functioning city.
[ He notices out of the corner of his eye that Cobb's gazing up at him now. This much walking probably isn't doing him any favors. ] I'll grab you something from one of the coffee shops around town. ( ... )
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Thanks, Arthur.
[ Because it merits saying now and has merited being said in the past even if Dom never did. Oh he knows it, but like his apologies his thanks aren't ever doled out as much as they probably should be. And there are reasons, always reasons, but not so many justifications and none Dom would offer on his own. He just wouldn't see the point.
Walking with Arthur, it feels both like no time has passed and maybe like he spent years under whatever kind of maelstrom then chose to spit him up here. Hard to say. ]
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Instead of speaking, Arthur tightens his grip on Cobb's shoulder as he trudges on through the forest, which is quickly giving way to short grass and sparse shrubs. ]
Reply
But what Dom actually ends up giving.
Well.
It's next to nothing.
Thank you is meager.
But it's what he's offering and Arthur's grip on him says the man accepts it in one way or another, accepts Dom himself for now unless otherwise proven.
. . .
Whatever coffee shop resides on the most outskirts of the City proper, that is where they end up -- Dom sitting in a way that suggests he might not be able to get back to his feet and it's only a little exaggerated. He really does feel like that walk was fifty times longer than it really was...but what is 'really'? Both hands previously folded in front of him, one slips into his pocket. Then he draws out Mal's totem and ( ... )
Reply
He sets down a bottle of cranberry juice on the table, but keeps the cup of coffee to himself. ]
Here, drink this.
[ Arthur takes a sip of his coffee-black with no sugar and just a hint of creamer-before continuing. ]
My totem seems to think this place is real, too. [ He punctuates the statement with a quirk of lips, just barely hinting at a smirk. ]
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His mouth flattens a little at the words, juice paused just short of his lips before he focuses on the barely-there smirk. Sipping once, he mulls this over for a second. ]
You think the totems aren't reliable anymore.
[ It's not exactly a question. ]
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That he can even find any kind of hilarity in the situation is another indication that he's spent far too long in this place. It's a sobering realization-one that he files away for future consideration. For now, his focus is turned to Cobb. ]
It's one theory of mine, yes.
[ He notes Cobb's reluctance and stands up again. ]
I'll see if they have something else available. A sports drink'd be better anyway. [ And he's off to the counter and back with a bottle of something labeled 'Aquarius' within a minute. He unscrews the cap and gently sets it down in front of Cobb. ]
Take a few sips, if you can. No rush.
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Great.
[ His exhale is rough, like scraping his air across sandpaper but he lifts his head, watching Arthur leave and return with a look gone meditative. ]
Thanks again. [ It's absolutely not lost on him that this is the most he's been up-front and grateful to Arthur in a while, and that it is with something so casual as a change of drinks is the kind of self-incrimination that Dom probably won't ever get out from under. Arthur -- this weird in-between excluded -- ( ... )
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A new litmus? Like what?
[ It's something Arthur had thought of before, of course. Though none of his solutions really satisfied him. He couldn't manipulate the dream. Eames couldn't forge. Those were sufficient litmus tests on their own. And while part of Arthur is willing to believe that this was in fact real, everything he's learned from experience warns him against falling back on that conclusion. ]
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