The crowding again, is it?
I would say the deities could have chosen better timing, but that seems rather unrealistic, when you spend too long thinking of it. I can't say I've much interest to play tour guide, but there are plenty of other pleasant people for you lot to take proper advantage of. Lay of the land, of sorts, while you're here.
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Volunteering the rest of the class, Eames? Not sure they'd appreciate it.
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I've disability allowance for it.
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So. You've been busy.
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You've been gone.
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And what if we have no interest in- [ A pause. ] -other, pleasant people?
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Then I suppose you're out of luck.
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[ He keeps the conversation light; after all, should Mal honestly decide to set her eyes on him, he can do little except hobble away as quickly as possible. Timing, deities. Awesome. ]
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[If she took a John back to their apartment God help her.]
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Vivian who?
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Dom knows he shouldn't have been dreaming like he has, lately...but it's what he does.
He finds the rules, sets them, and promptly breaks them.
...and he's lost everything because of it.
So really, a bit of unstructured dreaming in a broken mind (his own)...what is the worst that can happen? He has little left to lose, any longer. On the run, without recourse, without a way back home, Dom has to do something to keep from going completely mad.
And that means dreaming, for now.
But this? This dream isn't right. It isn't the one he had been in moments ago...and he hadn't placed a second level into the scheme.
This isn't right.
And Eames? Eames certainly shouldn't have been here.]
Eames?
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It isn't amusing.
I'm kicking us up.
[Because if Eames wants to talk to him, if he wants to fling accusations (and how could they not end up coming?), he wants to do it in reality. Not here.]
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[ Pause. ]
If you're meaning to by regular mechanisms, I'd advise against it.
[ Or do it. Eames isn't sure if the people who show up on weekends like this necessarily follow the same rules as the rest of them, concerning death. Could do for an experiment. ]
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What did you do?
[It sounds accusatory, but if they can't kick up, it's something that Eames has done, not himself. He checked the dosage twice before going under--he always does. Even in his exhausted state, his habits are precise. In fact, Dom wonders if he's even better at this, now--stripped to base instincts in his exhaustion, his body does what it knows to do, without his pesky mind getting in the way.]
How did you even find me?
[Not even Arthur knows, yet.]
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