polychromatic
CONTACT
lj bycitylights
aim midway speed
y!m oooohloverboy
@ penrosing@gmail.com
SO OUTDATED LOLOLOL will rewrite eventually
[series]: INCEPTION (movie)
[character]: Eames (alias: william eames pierce)
[character history / background]:
Movie. I was told I could just link a wiki to the canon. In addition, though not stated in the movie, an interview with the actor who plays Eames. That interview is something I take into account when I consider his abilities and general backhistory. Also the original script for character analysis and age.
[character abilities]:
Eames is a forger, in all aspects of the profession in dreams and out of dreams. Within a dream, he has the ability to, after studious observation of his particular subject at that time, shape shift into their physicality and replicate their mannerisms to fool the mark of the job into thinking it's whomever they expect it to be. Your god father, your girlfriend, your sweet old granny May - if the person exists, or even if they don't exist, Eames can replicate them or form any new visage to his needs. He's an actor.
In reality, he is adept in forging anything that needs replicating for his convenience. This includes, but is not limited to, poker chips to both gamble with and exchange for money, paperwork ( his spelling could use some proof reading, though ), signatures, et cetera.
Additionally, Eames is proficient in use of weaponry, close-quarter combat, and explosives - alongside simple thievery tricks such as pickpocketing. He also knows his way around use of an AED and general first aid. Also, his imagination? It's enormous, thanks for asking.
[character personality]:
Eames is a forger. Attention to detail is his calling card, and he makes most of his living through being able to absorb mannerisms to the point of mirroring them perfectly. Detail isn't just about the aesthetic of things, but to make yourself intimate enough with the inner workings of a person in order to react to constantly shifting situations - within dreams or during a real world con. Quick thinking and creative, Eames survives through being fluid and open minded in the characters he represents within dreams. He has a whip-crack for a tongue, being able to sustain banter and conversation without hesitation. Eames is used to thinking on his feet and out of any limitation of a pre-conceived box, something that makes itself apparent in the way he is able to toss out ideas for the inception job and change his tactics when he is faced with the intricacies of Robert Fischer's relationship with his father.
Being a professional conman, however, leaves Eames' best interests out for himself. In the original script, when Cobb suggests that Eames would never turn him into Cobol, the forger is offended and quickly corrects him. The only reason he does not end up turning in Cobb in exchange for the price on his head is that Cobb comes to him with a suitably better offer: inception. Taking the job provides Eames with another chance to successfully plant an idea on someone's mind and actually have it stick, with the side bonus of a sum of money that you can't just bat an eyelash at. Even with this reward in mind, as soon as the job turns sour due to the fact that Fischer's subconscious has been militarized and Eames' is faced with a greater risk than any of the teammates (aside from Yusuf and Cobb) had originally thought, he immediately wants out. The possibility of monetary gain and the pride of accomplishment don't outweigh the idea that, should he die in the dream, his mind will be turned into "scrambled egg." The circumstances are no longer under any sense of control, and Eames wants nothing to do with it. He has to be coerced back into going through with the inception - only because the projections will inevitably get to them if he stays in Yusuf's level, and he's too much an integral part of the job for the other members to have a chance of success without him. He has little empathy for Cobb by the end of the job, as when they are ultimately faced with the idea of failure once more his only remarks are "So that's it, then? We've failed." and "It's not me who doesn't get back to my family, is it?" His regret lingers not in his inability to help Cobb get back to his family, but in the fact that he wouldn't get to see what would occur between Fischer and his father in the strongroom.
Eames is, notably, incredibly relaxed. He speaks in a lazy, almost matter of fact drawl, interjecting dry humor every now and then regardless of whether or not the situation calls for it. His rebuttals in banter are never delivered scathingly, but are instead direct with certain amounts of teasing in the inflection of his voice, focused much less on sarcasm and much more on subtle hints of mockery. Even when angered, he doesn't raise his voice - instead, he points out the faults of the situation with enough focused intensity for the subject of his emotion to easily hear the anger in the tone of his voice rather than his voice bouncing off the walls in echo of a shout. Violence, for Eames, remains in his sense of quiet and pointedness, directed only where it needs to be - exemplified most by his style of fighting. He brawls without the sense of chaos, instead using violence to its most efficient motions. He isn't cruel. For all of his subtle amounts of teasing, his out-for-himself attitude, and his pure enjoyment in watching Yusuf repeatedly tip Arthur's chair over, there is little need for prolonged torment. He's the first to go for a gun in order to shoot Saito to remove him from the dream after he was shot in the chest by the projections. He's not driven by any sense of compassion for Saito, rather instead perhaps a sense of morals that relates back to his desire for efficiency. To Eames, the fact that the man is a tourist and, ultimately, their monetary benefactor means that he doesn't belong in the dream to begin with, so why continue his agony?
Eames is confident and self-assured, but not overly so. He can observe himself just as well as he observes others, and is more than aware of his own faults and what he needs to work on - particularly for a job. He can talk himself through any problems he may be having with a forge without a sense of pride getting in the way. In terms of personal faults, however, he can't exactly be bothered by what others think of him. He has his gambling and his way of life that may be perceived as selfish, and he knows he is professional and useful in jobs for mind crime as well as outside forgeries. His lifestyle isn't open for critique, because as soon as you begin molding your personal life to the way others wish you to be, you are no longer your own person - you've, essentially, forged yourself into whatever mold someone has created for you. Business is one thing - you have to be able to work well with others to ultimately complete a job, after all, and he can well enough grit his teeth and bear it if the payout is higher than the cost - but personal affairs are something else entirely.
Eames is constantly aware of his surroundings. When your livelihood depends on what you can note about those around you, your natural state is to be hyper aware of these things. His eyes tend to shift from subject to subject, taking the whole image in at first before looking for the small details that allow for the stability of the larger picture - anything from whether or not you tap your pen in nervous behavior to the rock of your heels in impatience. He wants to know those who are new to him - not exactly to the extent of what your favorite color is or your preferred genre of movie, but the things that stand of importance to Eames like whether or not you bite your nails or just the skin around it.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: From within the first level (Yusuf's dream), a few hours after the inception has been planted and they've escaped the van, waiting the week for the sedative to wear off. CANON UPDATE: post-movie.
[journal post]:
[ device cuts on mid-sentence, jumping and rustling about as if it's being kept in a pocket. ]
----be the first to say it: while you've garnered points for imaginative creativity, it seems in bad taste to suddenly be changing the layout all about.
[ pause. ]
Yusuf?
[ more rustling as the device is pulled out of a pocket, catching the sounds of the city. ]
Huh. 'Dial 6-6-6 for emergencies.' A little obvious, don't you think?
[ ANOTHER EXCRUCIATINGLY LONG PAUSE AS EAMES MESSES WITH THE THING. ]
Could be worse, I suppose. After all, could be raining.
There must be more sightseeing to beheld than just a carousel.
[third person / log sample]:
It's not that Browning is particularly charming in any manner, but Eames has always had a particular enjoyment in portraying those with a significant amount of power. It's in the set of the jaw, the upwards tilt of the face, the half-hooded gaze that is some mixture of condescension and amusement. He's particularly fond of the copious amounts of patronization that go into the titter of a cadence, equal amounts of patient and thin-lipped. Creating a forge is easy when you can build your own story behind it, filling in whatever archetype suits you or the mark best, but mimicking someone down to the twist of their hands when they speak is far more challenging - particularly when there is a close relationship involved. Sliding into skin is as easy as a full Windsor knot - but it's the details that matter, from the crud under their fingernails to a certain set of their mouth. Eames had wanted more time to observe Browning, of course, but Cobb's sense of urgency is limiting and distracting. Though the monetary promise of reward and the thought of being able to plant a successful inception is pleasing (and, to be honest, the only reason he took this job over turning Cobb into Cobol), he regardless feels rushed. Cobb's intense manner of carrying himself from his tightly-wound energy to the squint of his eyes bleeds, regardless of his awareness, into those around him - Eames included.
He hates deadlines. Certainly he can appreciate schedules to an extent, but the rules of time should be guides at best, never overriding a natural sense of readiness. Tightly regulated schedules gave no wiggle room for the perchance of something going wrong - no matter how much you plan and detail specifics, even a small problem will cause everything to become disjointed. Limitation is the death of creativity and quick-thinking. Not to mention, he muses, fingers going to briefly pinch the thick bridge of Browning's nose, headache inducing.
Forging requires copious amounts of practice, yes, but there is only so long you could work at it before you began to implement yourself into the character. It's a bleed often fueled by frustration - while he has the forge correct, there is something so inherently wrong in the twitch of his fingers and barrel of his chest that there is nothing more to do than to give his mind a rest, run through the images of Browning he has memorized, and come back to it once he's calmed. He drops the visage entirely, folding the three-panel mirror on top of the armoire to hide away his reflection before loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar.
There's a brief moment in the shared dream where his mind and surroundings are quiet as he exits the dark warehouse to meander along the gridded streets. Everyone keeping their projections suppressed leaves a disturbing amount of emptiness in the practice runs, and there's a distorted sense of echoing against the buildings and roads. He follows their voices, coming across them soon enough in one of the main squares of Ariadne's constructed town. Arthur and Ariadne have tucked themselves away on the corner of the intersection at a nonspecific cafe, discussing - nothing so personal, Eames deduces, in the way Arthur has his fingers steepled and the slight lean of his left shoulder, the furrow of his brows something Eames could spot for miles. Oh, their pointman. Eames can't deny that the man is a professional and not a complete displeasure to work with - yet the fact remains that Arthur is as enveloped in his rules and ideas of limitations born from an unimaginative mind as strict and buttoned in as the suits he outfits himself with in the dreamworld. While the lack of variation from a set pattern is frustrating to him, he supposes there is some comfort in the predictability - a solid column of certain notions that he can always be sure would remain, an unwavering loyalty coupled with enough pride to not want to drop a job but with enough sense to know when you should.
Ariadne is of no less interest to observe. She's new to him, after all, and he feels the natural urge to devour her mannerisms completely, committing them to memory - her open gaze, the way she speaks with her hands, the meticulous way she puts together her models with her tongue clenched ever-so slightly in between her teeth in concentration. The way she's attached herself to members of their so-called dream team - Cobb in particular - remains fascinating to him. She would do well, he thinks off-handedly, from carefully applied make-up on her lids and bangs to better frame her small features. Her hair crowds too heavily around her neck for Eames' taste, and he debates how much it would cost him to convince her to get a short cut and buy a nice summer dress. Surely everyone would stand to benefit.
Yusuf is the first to spot him, giving him an exuberant wave. Eames knows that palm well - there's a mark along the left side of his right hand, a small yellow splotch of smooth skin. The man's intelligence shows in the confidence behind his eyes as much as the chemical burns in his skin. He can be well enough grateful that Cobb had taken heed to his suggestion of using Yusuf - beyond the fact that the man's chemicals can be refined to what they required for this to work, he's the chemist Eames trusts to take them down the full three levels. Saito gives him a curt nod, which Eames returns easily. He can't bring himself to approve of the man joining in on their excursion - the fact that the mark might recognize Mister Saito intruding in on his dreams not withstanding, tourists don't belong on a job as serious as inception. Granted, he can't blame the man either - a ridiculous sum of money is going into this, which Eames can almost feel with the tips of his fingers, and - what is it those power moguls always preach? Protect your investments. Eames supposes, were he in Saito's position, he wouldn't trust a handful of criminals - no matter their prestige - to truthfully complete something considered impossible. He finds the word 'impossible' a strange label on something to do with dreams. That is the entire point of working with dreams, isn't it? If you can share a dream, why not plant an idea? It's only a matter of steps, of simplification. With the facility of ideas becoming manifest in reality - propaganda, patriotism, he could go on - why not within a dream, touching the intricacies of the mind itself?
His gaze slides towards Cobb, then, the man standing apart from the rest. Hands tucked into the folds of his pockets in his trousers, Cobb's face is turned upwards amongst the skyscrapers and clear skies. There's something there, Eames knows, in the defensive manner Cobb struts himself along, the rush to complete this job. This isn't about the victory of managing to plant an idea into someone's mind, the glory of a new frontier and such, as it is for Arthur and Ariadne. This isn't about the money, as it is for himself and Yusuf. This isn't about a backwards defeat, as it is for Saito. This is about family and loyalties, returning to a home Cobb hasn't been able to build for himself anywhere else - the impossible idea of being able to return to his children and, somehow, living some life of relative normalcy. Is that truly what Cobb desires? To go back to playing home maker? Eames wonders whether or not the man will be able to drop something so easily that had become such an integral part of his lifestyle.
Impossible.
Eames finds that word to be rather grating, at best.
lj bycitylights
aim midway speed
y!m oooohloverboy
@ penrosing@gmail.com
SO OUTDATED LOLOLOL will rewrite eventually
[series]: INCEPTION (movie)
[character]: Eames (alias: william eames pierce)
[character history / background]:
Movie. I was told I could just link a wiki to the canon. In addition, though not stated in the movie, an interview with the actor who plays Eames. That interview is something I take into account when I consider his abilities and general backhistory. Also the original script for character analysis and age.
[character abilities]:
Eames is a forger, in all aspects of the profession in dreams and out of dreams. Within a dream, he has the ability to, after studious observation of his particular subject at that time, shape shift into their physicality and replicate their mannerisms to fool the mark of the job into thinking it's whomever they expect it to be. Your god father, your girlfriend, your sweet old granny May - if the person exists, or even if they don't exist, Eames can replicate them or form any new visage to his needs. He's an actor.
In reality, he is adept in forging anything that needs replicating for his convenience. This includes, but is not limited to, poker chips to both gamble with and exchange for money, paperwork ( his spelling could use some proof reading, though ), signatures, et cetera.
Additionally, Eames is proficient in use of weaponry, close-quarter combat, and explosives - alongside simple thievery tricks such as pickpocketing. He also knows his way around use of an AED and general first aid. Also, his imagination? It's enormous, thanks for asking.
[character personality]:
Eames is a forger. Attention to detail is his calling card, and he makes most of his living through being able to absorb mannerisms to the point of mirroring them perfectly. Detail isn't just about the aesthetic of things, but to make yourself intimate enough with the inner workings of a person in order to react to constantly shifting situations - within dreams or during a real world con. Quick thinking and creative, Eames survives through being fluid and open minded in the characters he represents within dreams. He has a whip-crack for a tongue, being able to sustain banter and conversation without hesitation. Eames is used to thinking on his feet and out of any limitation of a pre-conceived box, something that makes itself apparent in the way he is able to toss out ideas for the inception job and change his tactics when he is faced with the intricacies of Robert Fischer's relationship with his father.
Being a professional conman, however, leaves Eames' best interests out for himself. In the original script, when Cobb suggests that Eames would never turn him into Cobol, the forger is offended and quickly corrects him. The only reason he does not end up turning in Cobb in exchange for the price on his head is that Cobb comes to him with a suitably better offer: inception. Taking the job provides Eames with another chance to successfully plant an idea on someone's mind and actually have it stick, with the side bonus of a sum of money that you can't just bat an eyelash at. Even with this reward in mind, as soon as the job turns sour due to the fact that Fischer's subconscious has been militarized and Eames' is faced with a greater risk than any of the teammates (aside from Yusuf and Cobb) had originally thought, he immediately wants out. The possibility of monetary gain and the pride of accomplishment don't outweigh the idea that, should he die in the dream, his mind will be turned into "scrambled egg." The circumstances are no longer under any sense of control, and Eames wants nothing to do with it. He has to be coerced back into going through with the inception - only because the projections will inevitably get to them if he stays in Yusuf's level, and he's too much an integral part of the job for the other members to have a chance of success without him. He has little empathy for Cobb by the end of the job, as when they are ultimately faced with the idea of failure once more his only remarks are "So that's it, then? We've failed." and "It's not me who doesn't get back to my family, is it?" His regret lingers not in his inability to help Cobb get back to his family, but in the fact that he wouldn't get to see what would occur between Fischer and his father in the strongroom.
Eames is, notably, incredibly relaxed. He speaks in a lazy, almost matter of fact drawl, interjecting dry humor every now and then regardless of whether or not the situation calls for it. His rebuttals in banter are never delivered scathingly, but are instead direct with certain amounts of teasing in the inflection of his voice, focused much less on sarcasm and much more on subtle hints of mockery. Even when angered, he doesn't raise his voice - instead, he points out the faults of the situation with enough focused intensity for the subject of his emotion to easily hear the anger in the tone of his voice rather than his voice bouncing off the walls in echo of a shout. Violence, for Eames, remains in his sense of quiet and pointedness, directed only where it needs to be - exemplified most by his style of fighting. He brawls without the sense of chaos, instead using violence to its most efficient motions. He isn't cruel. For all of his subtle amounts of teasing, his out-for-himself attitude, and his pure enjoyment in watching Yusuf repeatedly tip Arthur's chair over, there is little need for prolonged torment. He's the first to go for a gun in order to shoot Saito to remove him from the dream after he was shot in the chest by the projections. He's not driven by any sense of compassion for Saito, rather instead perhaps a sense of morals that relates back to his desire for efficiency. To Eames, the fact that the man is a tourist and, ultimately, their monetary benefactor means that he doesn't belong in the dream to begin with, so why continue his agony?
Eames is confident and self-assured, but not overly so. He can observe himself just as well as he observes others, and is more than aware of his own faults and what he needs to work on - particularly for a job. He can talk himself through any problems he may be having with a forge without a sense of pride getting in the way. In terms of personal faults, however, he can't exactly be bothered by what others think of him. He has his gambling and his way of life that may be perceived as selfish, and he knows he is professional and useful in jobs for mind crime as well as outside forgeries. His lifestyle isn't open for critique, because as soon as you begin molding your personal life to the way others wish you to be, you are no longer your own person - you've, essentially, forged yourself into whatever mold someone has created for you. Business is one thing - you have to be able to work well with others to ultimately complete a job, after all, and he can well enough grit his teeth and bear it if the payout is higher than the cost - but personal affairs are something else entirely.
Eames is constantly aware of his surroundings. When your livelihood depends on what you can note about those around you, your natural state is to be hyper aware of these things. His eyes tend to shift from subject to subject, taking the whole image in at first before looking for the small details that allow for the stability of the larger picture - anything from whether or not you tap your pen in nervous behavior to the rock of your heels in impatience. He wants to know those who are new to him - not exactly to the extent of what your favorite color is or your preferred genre of movie, but the things that stand of importance to Eames like whether or not you bite your nails or just the skin around it.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: From within the first level (Yusuf's dream), a few hours after the inception has been planted and they've escaped the van, waiting the week for the sedative to wear off. CANON UPDATE: post-movie.
[journal post]:
[ device cuts on mid-sentence, jumping and rustling about as if it's being kept in a pocket. ]
----be the first to say it: while you've garnered points for imaginative creativity, it seems in bad taste to suddenly be changing the layout all about.
[ pause. ]
Yusuf?
[ more rustling as the device is pulled out of a pocket, catching the sounds of the city. ]
Huh. 'Dial 6-6-6 for emergencies.' A little obvious, don't you think?
[ ANOTHER EXCRUCIATINGLY LONG PAUSE AS EAMES MESSES WITH THE THING. ]
Could be worse, I suppose. After all, could be raining.
There must be more sightseeing to beheld than just a carousel.
[third person / log sample]:
It's not that Browning is particularly charming in any manner, but Eames has always had a particular enjoyment in portraying those with a significant amount of power. It's in the set of the jaw, the upwards tilt of the face, the half-hooded gaze that is some mixture of condescension and amusement. He's particularly fond of the copious amounts of patronization that go into the titter of a cadence, equal amounts of patient and thin-lipped. Creating a forge is easy when you can build your own story behind it, filling in whatever archetype suits you or the mark best, but mimicking someone down to the twist of their hands when they speak is far more challenging - particularly when there is a close relationship involved. Sliding into skin is as easy as a full Windsor knot - but it's the details that matter, from the crud under their fingernails to a certain set of their mouth. Eames had wanted more time to observe Browning, of course, but Cobb's sense of urgency is limiting and distracting. Though the monetary promise of reward and the thought of being able to plant a successful inception is pleasing (and, to be honest, the only reason he took this job over turning Cobb into Cobol), he regardless feels rushed. Cobb's intense manner of carrying himself from his tightly-wound energy to the squint of his eyes bleeds, regardless of his awareness, into those around him - Eames included.
He hates deadlines. Certainly he can appreciate schedules to an extent, but the rules of time should be guides at best, never overriding a natural sense of readiness. Tightly regulated schedules gave no wiggle room for the perchance of something going wrong - no matter how much you plan and detail specifics, even a small problem will cause everything to become disjointed. Limitation is the death of creativity and quick-thinking. Not to mention, he muses, fingers going to briefly pinch the thick bridge of Browning's nose, headache inducing.
Forging requires copious amounts of practice, yes, but there is only so long you could work at it before you began to implement yourself into the character. It's a bleed often fueled by frustration - while he has the forge correct, there is something so inherently wrong in the twitch of his fingers and barrel of his chest that there is nothing more to do than to give his mind a rest, run through the images of Browning he has memorized, and come back to it once he's calmed. He drops the visage entirely, folding the three-panel mirror on top of the armoire to hide away his reflection before loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar.
There's a brief moment in the shared dream where his mind and surroundings are quiet as he exits the dark warehouse to meander along the gridded streets. Everyone keeping their projections suppressed leaves a disturbing amount of emptiness in the practice runs, and there's a distorted sense of echoing against the buildings and roads. He follows their voices, coming across them soon enough in one of the main squares of Ariadne's constructed town. Arthur and Ariadne have tucked themselves away on the corner of the intersection at a nonspecific cafe, discussing - nothing so personal, Eames deduces, in the way Arthur has his fingers steepled and the slight lean of his left shoulder, the furrow of his brows something Eames could spot for miles. Oh, their pointman. Eames can't deny that the man is a professional and not a complete displeasure to work with - yet the fact remains that Arthur is as enveloped in his rules and ideas of limitations born from an unimaginative mind as strict and buttoned in as the suits he outfits himself with in the dreamworld. While the lack of variation from a set pattern is frustrating to him, he supposes there is some comfort in the predictability - a solid column of certain notions that he can always be sure would remain, an unwavering loyalty coupled with enough pride to not want to drop a job but with enough sense to know when you should.
Ariadne is of no less interest to observe. She's new to him, after all, and he feels the natural urge to devour her mannerisms completely, committing them to memory - her open gaze, the way she speaks with her hands, the meticulous way she puts together her models with her tongue clenched ever-so slightly in between her teeth in concentration. The way she's attached herself to members of their so-called dream team - Cobb in particular - remains fascinating to him. She would do well, he thinks off-handedly, from carefully applied make-up on her lids and bangs to better frame her small features. Her hair crowds too heavily around her neck for Eames' taste, and he debates how much it would cost him to convince her to get a short cut and buy a nice summer dress. Surely everyone would stand to benefit.
Yusuf is the first to spot him, giving him an exuberant wave. Eames knows that palm well - there's a mark along the left side of his right hand, a small yellow splotch of smooth skin. The man's intelligence shows in the confidence behind his eyes as much as the chemical burns in his skin. He can be well enough grateful that Cobb had taken heed to his suggestion of using Yusuf - beyond the fact that the man's chemicals can be refined to what they required for this to work, he's the chemist Eames trusts to take them down the full three levels. Saito gives him a curt nod, which Eames returns easily. He can't bring himself to approve of the man joining in on their excursion - the fact that the mark might recognize Mister Saito intruding in on his dreams not withstanding, tourists don't belong on a job as serious as inception. Granted, he can't blame the man either - a ridiculous sum of money is going into this, which Eames can almost feel with the tips of his fingers, and - what is it those power moguls always preach? Protect your investments. Eames supposes, were he in Saito's position, he wouldn't trust a handful of criminals - no matter their prestige - to truthfully complete something considered impossible. He finds the word 'impossible' a strange label on something to do with dreams. That is the entire point of working with dreams, isn't it? If you can share a dream, why not plant an idea? It's only a matter of steps, of simplification. With the facility of ideas becoming manifest in reality - propaganda, patriotism, he could go on - why not within a dream, touching the intricacies of the mind itself?
His gaze slides towards Cobb, then, the man standing apart from the rest. Hands tucked into the folds of his pockets in his trousers, Cobb's face is turned upwards amongst the skyscrapers and clear skies. There's something there, Eames knows, in the defensive manner Cobb struts himself along, the rush to complete this job. This isn't about the victory of managing to plant an idea into someone's mind, the glory of a new frontier and such, as it is for Arthur and Ariadne. This isn't about the money, as it is for himself and Yusuf. This isn't about a backwards defeat, as it is for Saito. This is about family and loyalties, returning to a home Cobb hasn't been able to build for himself anywhere else - the impossible idea of being able to return to his children and, somehow, living some life of relative normalcy. Is that truly what Cobb desires? To go back to playing home maker? Eames wonders whether or not the man will be able to drop something so easily that had become such an integral part of his lifestyle.
Impossible.
Eames finds that word to be rather grating, at best.