Inception Fic - My Inception
Title: My Inception
Pairings: Eames/Arthur
Wordcount: ~4700
Disclaimer: Lovingly plagiarized from the original My Immortal.
Enjoy. :D
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Chapter 1
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Hi my name is Arthur Som’nacin Armani Pasiv Dream and I have short ebony black hair (which has nothing to do with how I got my name) with shiny gel and curly ends and dark brown eyes like melting chocolate and a lot of people tell me I look like Joseph Gordon-Levitt (AN: if you don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Chris Nolan but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking genius. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a dream criminal, and I work out of a warehouse called Sekrit Base in France where I’m the point man (I’m twenty-nine). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly suits. I love Savile Row and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with- No scratch that I was wearing a charcoal jacket with a light gray waistcoat under it and a white shirt, charcoal trousers and dark leather shoes. I was wearing clear chapstick, some hair gel, a bandaid on my finger from that papercut I got yesterday and some Neosporin under that. I was walking outside Sekrit Base. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of projections stared at me. I gave them my bitchface.
“Hey Arthur!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. Eames!
“What’s up Eames?” I asked.
“Nothing.” he said not at all shyly.
But then, I heard my boss call me and I had to go away.
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AN: IS it good? PLZ tell me fangz!
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Chapter 2.
AN: Fangz 2 all the anon 4 readin da chapta! BTW projections stop flaming ma story ok!
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The next day I woke up on a lawn chair. It was snowing and raining again. I opened the top of the pasiv and drank some blood from a bottle I had. My pasiv was black ebony and inside it was hot pink velvet with black lace on the ends. I got off my lawn chair and took of my suit which I used for pajamas. Instead, I put on a navy blue sweater vest, a pentagram necklace, Ferragamo loafers and black sock garters. I put on four ties of varying colors around my swan-like neck, and slicked my hair back.
My friend, Ariadne woke up then and grinned at me. She flipped her long shoulder-length brown hair with sun highlights and opened her nut-brown eyes. She put on her goffik hipster scarf with blue jeans, a jacket, and pointy high-heeled shoes. I watched her put on her makeup (red lip gloss a little blush and black eyeliner.)
“OMFG, I saw you talking to Eames yesterday!” she said excitedly.
“Yeah? So?” I said, blushing.
“Do you like Eames?” she asked as we went out of the back room and into the main warehouse.
“No I so fucking don’t!” I shouted. This caused my boss to stare at me but he thinks I am a projection so I ignored him.
“Yeah right!” she exclaimed. Just then, Eames walked up to me.
“Hi.” He said.
“Hi.” I replied deadpan.
“Guess what.” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Well, Les Miserables is playing in Paris.” he told me.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God!” I screamed. I love Les Mis. It is my favorite show, besides Moulin Rouge.
“Well…. do you want to go with me?” he asked.
I gasped.
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Chapter 3.
AN: STOP FLAMMING DA STORY PROJECTIONZ OK! Odderwize fangs 2 da nonny ppl 4 da lulz! oh yeah, BTW I don’t own dis or da lyrics 4 Le Mizerable.
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On the night of the show I put on my leather dress shoes. Underneath them were black socks. Then I put on a suit with all this pinstriped stuff on the back and front. I put on a matching watch on my arm. I slicked back my hair and made it look all shiny. I felt a little depressed then, so I slit one of my wrists. I read some of my depressing research while I waited for it to stop bleeding and I listened to some Les Mis. I thought about painting my nails black and putting on TONS of black eyeliner, but that made me question my reality so I didn’t. I didn’t put on foundation because I was pale anyway. I drank some human blood so I was ready to go to the show.
I went outside. Eames was waiting there in front of his flashy car. He was wearing an orange suit (he does this to piss me off), expensive shoes, no nail polish and a little eyeliner (AN: A lot fo kewl boiz wer it ok!). I questioned his judgement and his sobriety.
“Hi Eames!” I said in a depressed voice.
“Hi Arthur.” he said back. We walked into his flashy black Mercedes-Benz (the license plate said 528491 but it was probably a coincidence) and drove to the place with the show. On the way we listened excitedly to Les Mis and Wicked. We both smoked cigarettes and did somnacin. When we got there, we both hopped out of the car. We went to the spit-zone seats right in front of the stage and jumped up and down before the lights went off and we had to sit. Then the show started.
“Freedom is mine. The earth is still.
I feel the wind. I breathe again.
And the skies clear.
The earth is waking.
Drink from the pool. How clean the taste.
Never forget the years, the waste.
Nor forgive them
For what they've done.
They are the guilty- everyone.” sang Valjean (I don’t own da lyrics 2 dat song).
“Valjean is so fucking hot.” I said to Eames, pointing to him as he sung, filling the hall with his amazing voice.
Suddenly Eames looked sad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as the people behind us muttered angrily at my talking. Then I caught on.
“Hey, it’s ok I don’t like him better than YOU!” I said.
“Really?” asked Eames sensitively and he put his arm around me all protective.
“Really.” I said. “Besides I don’t even know Valjean and he’s going to adopt fucking Cosette. I fucking hate that little bitch.” I said disgustedly, and someone behind me asked an usher to escort us outside.
The night went on really well, and I had a great time. So did Eames. After the concert, we drank some wine and asked the cast for their autographs and photos with them. We got Les Mis show tees. Eames and I crawled back into the Mercedes-Benz, but Eames didn’t go back into Sekrit Base, instead he drove the car into………………………the Eiffel Tower!
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Chapter 4.
AN: I sed stup flaming ok arthur’s name is AHRTUR nut mary su OK! EAMES IS SOO IN LUV wif him dat he is acting deferent! Dey nu eechodder b4 in da army ok!
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“EAMES!” I shouted. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”
Eames didn’t answer but he stopped the flashy car and he walked out of it. I walked out of it too, curiously.
“What the fucking hell?” I asked angrily.
“Arthur?” he asked.
“What?” I snapped.
Eames leaned in extra-close and I looked into his gothic red eyes (he was forging them ok! it can b a dream u projectionz!) which revealed so much depressing sorrow and evilness and then suddenly I didn’t feel mad anymore. Rather confused but not mad. I reached for my totem.
And then…………… suddenly just as I Eames kissed me passionately. Eames climbed on top of me and we started to make out keenly against the Eiffel Tower. He took of my top and I took of his clothes. I even took of my waistcoat. Then he put his thingie into my you-know-what and we did it for the first time.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! ” I screamed. I was beginning to get an orgasm. We started to kiss everywhere and my pale body became all warm. And then….
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!”
It was…………………………………………………….Cobb!
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Chapter 5.
AN: STOP flaming! if u flam it menz ur a projection or a posr! Da only reson Coob swor is coz he had a hedache ok an on tup of dat he wuz mad at dem 4 having sexx! PS im nut updating umtil I get five good revoiws!
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Cobb made and Eames and I follow him. He kept shouting at us angrily. No surprise there.
“You ludacris fools!” he shouted.
I started to cry tears of blood down my pallid face. Eames comforted me. When we went back to the warehouse Cobb took us to Yusuf and Professor Miles who were both looking very angry.
“They were having sexual intercourse in the Eiffel Tower” he yelled in a furious voice.
“Why did you do such a thing, you mediocre dunces?” asked Professor Miles, looking at us over his glasses in that way that he does.
“How dare you?” demanded Yusuf, who was actually about to burst into laughter.
And then Eames shrieked. “BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!”
Everyone was quiet. I facepalmed. Cobb and Professor Miles still looked mad but Yusuf said. “Fine. Very well. You may go up to your rooms.” He tried unsuccessfully to cover a snort.
Eames and I went into the back room while my boss and his father in law glared at us.
“Are you okay, Arthur?” Eames asked me gently.
“Yeah I guess.” I lied giving him a weird look. I went to the washroom and brushed my teeth and my hair and changed into a tailored black Armani suit with a red tie and black shoes. When I came out….
Eames was standing in front of the washroom, and he started to sing ‘I just wanna live’ by Good Charlotte. I was frightened for his mental safety and I grabbed my totem but it was real. I tried to stop him when he hugged and kissed me because something weird was definitely happening but he did anyway. After that, he said goodnight and he reluctantly went back into the warehouse. I looked on my computer for what could be happening but there was nothing. I was sad.
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Chapter 6.
AN: shjt up projektionz ok! PS I wnot update ubtil u give me goood revows!
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The next day I woke up on my lawn chair. I put on a brown sweater vest that was all argyle on the front and matching trousers, a tie with red skulls all over it and expensive shoes that were black. I spray-painted my hair with gel.
In the main warehouse, I ate some Count Chocula cereal with blood instead of milk, and a glass of red blood. Suddenly someone walked across the warehouse to my chair and actively bumped into me. All the blood spilled over my lap.
“Bastard!” I shouted angrily. I regretted saying it when I looked up cause I was looking into the pale white face of a gothic boy with short brown hair without streaks in it. He cheekbones were so sharp they were going down his face and he was wearing a black tie. He didn’t have glasses anymore and now he was wearing red contact lenses just like Eames’s and there was no scar on his forhead anymore (though I don’t know why I thought there should be). He was without a manly stubble on his chin. He had a sexy lack of Australian accent. He looked exactly like Cillian Murphy. He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I’m a professional so I didn’t get one you sicko.
“I’m so sorry.” he said in a shy voice.
“That’s all right. What’s your name?” I questioned.
“My name’s Robert Fischer, although most people call me Woobie these days.” he grumbled.
“Why?” I exclaimed.
“Because I could only make out one word: disappointed.” he giggled. “Also, I love the taste of human blood.”
“Well, I am a vampire.” I confessed.
“Really?” he whimpered.
“Yeah.” I roared.
We sat down to talk for a while. Then Eames came up behind me and told me he had a surprise for me. I was wary but I went away with him.
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Chapter 7. Bring me 2 life
AN: wel ok u guyz im only writting dis cuz I cant stup laffing. n BTW I wont rite da nxt chapter til I git TIN god revows! STO FLAMING OR ILL REPORT U! Atuhur isn’t a Marie Sue ok he isn’t perfect HES A SATANITS! n he has problemz hes workin 4 Cobb 4 godz sake!
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Eames and I held our pale white hand and much less pale hands with as we went to the back room. It was weird but kind of nice also. I was wearing red Satanist sings on my tie in red stitching (AN: c doez dat sound lik a Maru Sue 2 u?). I waved to Woobie. Dark misery was in his depressed ice blue eyes. I guess he was jealous of me that I was going out with Eames. Or maybe it was cause his life sucked (AN: git it he is vampire lulz). Anyway, I went into the back room excitedly with Eames. We went into the broom cupboard and locked the door. Then…………
We started frenching pasiv-ly and we took off each others clothes enthusiastically. This felt weird and I tried to reach my totem but then he felt me up before I took out my totem. Then I took off my black leather jacket and he took off his pants. We went up against the wall and started making out naked and then he put his boy’s thingy in my derriere and we HAD SEX. (c is dat stupid?)
“Oh Eames, Eames!” I screamed while getting an orgasm when all of a sudden I saw a tattoo I had never seen before on Eames’s chest. It was the British flag which made a lot of sense since he is British. Also there was a black heart with an arrow through it. On it in bloody gothic writing were the words………… Woobie!
I was so angry.
“You bastard!” I shouted angrily, jumping out of the cupboard.
“No! No! But you don’t understand!” Eames pleaded. But I knew too much. And then I felt like I knew nothing at all. Where was that stupid die?
“No, you fucking idiot!” I shouted. “You probably have AIDs anyway!” (Note: I apologize for the original author’s stupidity and insensitivity. :P) I couldn’t believe I said that but my totem said it was real and Something fishy was definitely going on.
I put on my clothes all huffily and then stomped out. Eames ran out even though he was naked. He had a really big you-know-what but I was too mad to care. Not that I would care anyway. I stomped out and did so until I was in Woobie’s penthouse (it was a long stomp) where he was having his mind broken into by Yusuf and some other vaguely recognizable people.
“WOOBIE FISCHER, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” I yelled.
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Chapter 8.
AN: stop flassing ok! if u do den u r a projektion!
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Everyone in the penthouse stared at me cept Fischer he was actually asleep and then Eames came into the room even though he was naked and started begging me to take him back. Hadn’t I had a dream like this once?
“Arthur, it’s not what you think!” Eames screamed sadly.
My friend B’loody Mal Cobb smiled at me understatedly. She flipped her short gothic curly hair and opened her crimson eyes like blood that she was wearing contact lenses on. She had pale white skin that she was wearing white makeup on. Mal was kidnapped when she was born. Her real children are Philippa and James and one of them is a girl but a train killed her once and she committed suicide because she was depressed about it. She still has nightmares about it and she is very haunted and depressed. It also turns out her real last name is Cobb and not Miles. (Since she has converted to Satanism she is married to Cobb not single.)
“What is it that you desire, you ridiculous dimwit!” Yusuf demeaned angrily from behind the wheel of a van but I ignored him.
“Woobie, I can’t believe you cheated on me with Eames!” I shouted at him. Was this a dream?
Everyone gasped.
I don’t know why Arthur was so mad at me. I had went out with Woobie (I’m gay but Arthur is bi) for a while but then he broke my heart. He dumped me because he liked Ariadne, Arthur’s stupid goffik hipster friend. We were just good friends now. He had gone through horrible problems, and now he was gothic. (Haha, like I would hang out with a projection.)
“There’s really… nothing to be said.” said Woobie waking up.
“Yeah fucking right! Fuck off, you bastard!” I screamed. I ran out of the room and to the Eiffel Tower where I had lost my virility to Eames and then I started to bust into tears.
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Chapter 9.
AN: stop flaming ok! I dntn watch all da movie! dis is frum da trailer ok so itz nut my folt if coob swers! besuizds I SED HE HAD A HEDACHE! and da reson yusf dosent lik robert now is coz hes christian and woobie is a satanist! Moulin Rouge ROX!
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I was so mad and sad. I couldn’t believe Eames for cheating on me. I began to cry against the Eiffel Tower where I did it with Eames.
Then all of a suddenly, an horrible man with red eyes and a nose and everything started running towards me with a briefcase! He had a nose (basically the exact opposite of Voldemort in that movie) and he was wearing all black but it was obvious he wasn’t gothic. It was…… Saito!
“No!” I shouted in a scared voice and pulled out my Beretta but then Saito shouted “Illegal carrying!” and I had to put it away lest the police show up.
“Crookshanks!” I shouted at him. Saito stared at me for such a long time that I wondered if I had something on my face. I rolled my totem. It was reality but Saito was still stupid like a projection. I felt bad for him even though I’m a sadist so I stopped.
“Arthur.” he yelled. “Thou must dismantle Woobie Fisher’s company!”
I thought about Woobie and his sexah eyes and his gothic brown hair and how his face looks just like Cillian Murphy. I remembered that Eames had said I didn’t understand, so I thought, what if Eames went out with Woobie before I went out with him and they broke up?
“No, Saito!” I shouted back.
Saito gave me a serious look. “Wake up.” he said.
“No! Please!” I begged. And then I said “What?”
“Thou must!” he yelled. “If thou does not, then I shall buy thy beloved Eames! It seems neater.”
“How did you know?” I asked in a surprised way.
Saito got a dude-ur-so-retarded look on his face. “Everyone knows, Arthur.” he answered cruelly. “And if you doth not dismantle Woobie’s company, then thou know what will happen to Eames!” he shouted. Then he ran away angrily with his briefcase. But not before telling me to wake up again.
I was so scared and mad I didn’t know what to do. I took out my Beretta and contemplatively placed it against my head. But my totem said this was reality… Suddenly Eames came into the Eiffel Tower.
“Eames!” I said. “Hi!” I dropped my gun.
“Hi.” he said back but his face was all sad. He was wearing blue jeans and had messy hair kind of like a pentagram (geddit) between Tom Hardy in Scenes of a Sexual Nature and Tom Hardy in Wuthering Heights.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“No.” he answered.
“I’m sorry I got all mad at you but I thought you cheated on me.” I expelled.
“That’s okay.” he said all depressed and we went back into Sekrit Base together making out. “You also really need to wake up darling.” he said all soft and protective. “This isn’t real.” He got a sad look on his face.
“Don’t worry I would never love reality more than YOU!” I proclaimed and threw up a little in my mouth. What the hell was going on?
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Chapter 10.
AN: stup it if u donot lik ma story den fukk off! ps it turnz out b’loody mal isn’t a shade afert al n she n woobie r evil datz y dey are still alive ok!
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I was really scared about Sayto all day. I was even upset went to rehearsals with my gothic metal band Bloody Gothic Pasiv 528491. I am the lead singer of it and I play guitar. People say that we sound like a cross between Les Mis, CATS and Moulin Rouge. The other people in the band are B’loody Mal, Woobie, Eames, Nash (although we call him Diabolo now. He has black hair now with greasy streaks in it.) and Hargrid. Only today Eames and Woobie were depressed so they weren’t coming and we wrote songs instead. I knew Eames was probably slitting his wrists (he wouldn’t die because he was a forger and the only way you can kill a forger is with persistent denial of their come-ons (and I’d failed that already) or a bee sting (Eames is allergic)) and Woobie was probably watching a depressing movie like Red Eye. I put on a black Oxford shirt and tiny matching cufflinks that said Dunhill on them. You might think I’m a slut but I’m really not.
We were singing a cover of ‘Natural Woman’ and at the end of the song I suddenly bust into tears.
“Arthur! Are you OK?” B’loody Mal asked in a concerted French voice.
“What the fuck do you think?” I asked angrily. And then I said. “Well, Saito came and the fucking bastard told me to fucking dismantle Robert Fischer’s company! But I don’t want to do that, because, he’s really nice, even if he did go out with Eames. But if I don’t dismantle the company, then Saito, will fucking buy Eames!” I burst into tears.
Suddenly Eames jumped out from behind a wall. I have no idea how he got there in the first place.
“Why didn’t you fucking tell me!” he shouted. “How could you- you- you fucking poser projection bitch!” (c is dat out of character?)
I started to cry and cry. Eames started to cry too all sensitive. Then he ran out crying. This was getting honestly bizarre. Perhaps I should kill myself on principle.
We practiced for one more hour. Then suddenly Cobb walked in angrily! His eyes were all fiery and I knew this time it wasn’t cause he had a headache. It was probably sleep deprivation or some kind of overdose.
“What have you done!” He started to cry wisely. (c dats basically nut swering and dis time he wuz relly upset n u wil c y) “Arthur Eames has been found in the back room. He committed suicide by slitting his wrists.”
“What?” I said. I started to cry tears of blood down my pale face. Then I decided that I couldn’t live without him (c is DAT out of character?) and I shot myself in the face.
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“…rthr? Arthur? He’s coming to.”
I blinked, my vision slowly clearing. I was on my back, lying on the floor, it felt like. The cold of concrete was seeping through my clothing and chilling me. I could feel goosebumps on my arms. I must have been down for a while, then. Above me, Dom came into sight, an intense look on his face that was halfway between anger and concern.
“Don’t try to get up just yet,” he said, and I obediently stayed still. I was becoming aware of a dull throb in my temples that made immobility fine with me.
“What happened?” My mouth was dry and my voice sounded hoarse. “How long was I out?”
“It was a bad batch of somnacin,” came Yusuf’s voice. I turned my head and saw him going through a stack of printed files at his desk. This confirmed that we were still in the warehouse. I suddenly felt a shiver run down my spine.
“My totem…” I slipped my hand into my pocket, my fingertips meeting the familiar plastic weight of my die. And yet… “It was malfunctioning in the dream. I kept thinking it was reality…” I swallowed nervously. There was the possibility, then, that this was also a dream state. I licked my lips and sat up slowly. “Where’s Eames?”
“Your totem should still work fine with clean compounds,” Yusuf reassured as Cobb helped me up to sit on a nearby chair. I seemed to have fallen off of mine sometime while asleep. “Given that it was your own mind that generated the hallucination dream, any totem would be useless. Do you remember how you got here?”
“I think so.” I rubbed my temple. “We were going over the blueprints for the second dream level this morning, and then we went under to test the sedative… I recall the casino as it should have been, and then… I think I was a vampire.” I cringed as the words left my mouth, realizing suddenly how ridiculous it sounded, but Cobb was nodding and neither he nor Yusuf looked amused.
“Our hallucinatory dreams were also complete nonsense,” Cobb said, looking away from me. Yusuf smiled then.
“Apparently, he was walking through all these movies, but he could only do this weird sort of strut.” He attempted to demonstrate, only to earn a disapproving squint from Cobb. I couldn’t laugh, though it looked ridiculous, still a little too shaken by the experience.
“At least I wasn’t Forever Alone,” Cobb muttered. Yusuf sighed.
“Yes, it was an experience I’d rather not relive. I’m working on fixing the compound as we speak.”
“That’s great,” I said, my headache finally subsiding somewhat. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Where is Eames?”
Cobb pointed behind me at the other lawn chairs. Eames was lying on one, a beatific smile on his face, his hands clasped calmly over his stomach. I swallowed down a sudden rush of relief to see him alive and well, which was ridiculous. I needed to clear my head of this stupid vampire dream. “Why is he still dreaming?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we wake him?”
Once again, it was Yusuf who spoke up, Cobb choosing instead to go into the back room. “He woke up before you did and wanted to go back under. Apparently, he actually liked his hallucination. Once I made sure there weren’t any physical side effects besides lethargy - that was your problem, Arthur - I let him go.” He shrugged.
I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of enjoying the messed-up dream state. Bewildered, I asked “What was he dreaming about?”
“I’m not sure, but…” Yusuf looked nervous and started toying with one of his empty vials, as if he would have preferred, suddenly, to join Cobb in the back room. Indeed, he flicked his gaze over there once or twice as I waited. Finally, he just sighed. “He said something about a… ‘kink meme’? Apparently, there were lots of girls there who liked to write… slash.”
“I have no idea what that means.” I frowned. Why was this so complicated?
“Basically, it’s gay erotica,” Yusuf explained, cheeks coloring slightly. “Most of the time the stories feature fictional characters, but I guess that since it was Eames’s mind…”
I did not like where this was going.
“…Arthur/Eames was the flavor of the day.”
I stood up. “I don’t want to know how you know that, but thank you, Yusuf, for the explanation.” Very deliberately, I rolled up my sleeves and headed toward Eames.
I was going to kill him.
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Pairings: Eames/Arthur
Wordcount: ~4700
Disclaimer: Lovingly plagiarized from the original My Immortal.
Enjoy. :D
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Chapter 1
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Hi my name is Arthur Som’nacin Armani Pasiv Dream and I have short ebony black hair (which has nothing to do with how I got my name) with shiny gel and curly ends and dark brown eyes like melting chocolate and a lot of people tell me I look like Joseph Gordon-Levitt (AN: if you don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Chris Nolan but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking genius. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a dream criminal, and I work out of a warehouse called Sekrit Base in France where I’m the point man (I’m twenty-nine). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly suits. I love Savile Row and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with- No scratch that I was wearing a charcoal jacket with a light gray waistcoat under it and a white shirt, charcoal trousers and dark leather shoes. I was wearing clear chapstick, some hair gel, a bandaid on my finger from that papercut I got yesterday and some Neosporin under that. I was walking outside Sekrit Base. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of projections stared at me. I gave them my bitchface.
“Hey Arthur!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. Eames!
“What’s up Eames?” I asked.
“Nothing.” he said not at all shyly.
But then, I heard my boss call me and I had to go away.
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AN: IS it good? PLZ tell me fangz!
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Chapter 2.
AN: Fangz 2 all the anon 4 readin da chapta! BTW projections stop flaming ma story ok!
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The next day I woke up on a lawn chair. It was snowing and raining again. I opened the top of the pasiv and drank some blood from a bottle I had. My pasiv was black ebony and inside it was hot pink velvet with black lace on the ends. I got off my lawn chair and took of my suit which I used for pajamas. Instead, I put on a navy blue sweater vest, a pentagram necklace, Ferragamo loafers and black sock garters. I put on four ties of varying colors around my swan-like neck, and slicked my hair back.
My friend, Ariadne woke up then and grinned at me. She flipped her long shoulder-length brown hair with sun highlights and opened her nut-brown eyes. She put on her goffik hipster scarf with blue jeans, a jacket, and pointy high-heeled shoes. I watched her put on her makeup (red lip gloss a little blush and black eyeliner.)
“OMFG, I saw you talking to Eames yesterday!” she said excitedly.
“Yeah? So?” I said, blushing.
“Do you like Eames?” she asked as we went out of the back room and into the main warehouse.
“No I so fucking don’t!” I shouted. This caused my boss to stare at me but he thinks I am a projection so I ignored him.
“Yeah right!” she exclaimed. Just then, Eames walked up to me.
“Hi.” He said.
“Hi.” I replied deadpan.
“Guess what.” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Well, Les Miserables is playing in Paris.” he told me.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God!” I screamed. I love Les Mis. It is my favorite show, besides Moulin Rouge.
“Well…. do you want to go with me?” he asked.
I gasped.
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Chapter 3.
AN: STOP FLAMMING DA STORY PROJECTIONZ OK! Odderwize fangs 2 da nonny ppl 4 da lulz! oh yeah, BTW I don’t own dis or da lyrics 4 Le Mizerable.
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On the night of the show I put on my leather dress shoes. Underneath them were black socks. Then I put on a suit with all this pinstriped stuff on the back and front. I put on a matching watch on my arm. I slicked back my hair and made it look all shiny. I felt a little depressed then, so I slit one of my wrists. I read some of my depressing research while I waited for it to stop bleeding and I listened to some Les Mis. I thought about painting my nails black and putting on TONS of black eyeliner, but that made me question my reality so I didn’t. I didn’t put on foundation because I was pale anyway. I drank some human blood so I was ready to go to the show.
I went outside. Eames was waiting there in front of his flashy car. He was wearing an orange suit (he does this to piss me off), expensive shoes, no nail polish and a little eyeliner (AN: A lot fo kewl boiz wer it ok!). I questioned his judgement and his sobriety.
“Hi Eames!” I said in a depressed voice.
“Hi Arthur.” he said back. We walked into his flashy black Mercedes-Benz (the license plate said 528491 but it was probably a coincidence) and drove to the place with the show. On the way we listened excitedly to Les Mis and Wicked. We both smoked cigarettes and did somnacin. When we got there, we both hopped out of the car. We went to the spit-zone seats right in front of the stage and jumped up and down before the lights went off and we had to sit. Then the show started.
“Freedom is mine. The earth is still.
I feel the wind. I breathe again.
And the skies clear.
The earth is waking.
Drink from the pool. How clean the taste.
Never forget the years, the waste.
Nor forgive them
For what they've done.
They are the guilty- everyone.” sang Valjean (I don’t own da lyrics 2 dat song).
“Valjean is so fucking hot.” I said to Eames, pointing to him as he sung, filling the hall with his amazing voice.
Suddenly Eames looked sad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as the people behind us muttered angrily at my talking. Then I caught on.
“Hey, it’s ok I don’t like him better than YOU!” I said.
“Really?” asked Eames sensitively and he put his arm around me all protective.
“Really.” I said. “Besides I don’t even know Valjean and he’s going to adopt fucking Cosette. I fucking hate that little bitch.” I said disgustedly, and someone behind me asked an usher to escort us outside.
The night went on really well, and I had a great time. So did Eames. After the concert, we drank some wine and asked the cast for their autographs and photos with them. We got Les Mis show tees. Eames and I crawled back into the Mercedes-Benz, but Eames didn’t go back into Sekrit Base, instead he drove the car into………………………the Eiffel Tower!
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Chapter 4.
AN: I sed stup flaming ok arthur’s name is AHRTUR nut mary su OK! EAMES IS SOO IN LUV wif him dat he is acting deferent! Dey nu eechodder b4 in da army ok!
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“EAMES!” I shouted. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”
Eames didn’t answer but he stopped the flashy car and he walked out of it. I walked out of it too, curiously.
“What the fucking hell?” I asked angrily.
“Arthur?” he asked.
“What?” I snapped.
Eames leaned in extra-close and I looked into his gothic red eyes (he was forging them ok! it can b a dream u projectionz!) which revealed so much depressing sorrow and evilness and then suddenly I didn’t feel mad anymore. Rather confused but not mad. I reached for my totem.
And then…………… suddenly just as I Eames kissed me passionately. Eames climbed on top of me and we started to make out keenly against the Eiffel Tower. He took of my top and I took of his clothes. I even took of my waistcoat. Then he put his thingie into my you-know-what and we did it for the first time.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! ” I screamed. I was beginning to get an orgasm. We started to kiss everywhere and my pale body became all warm. And then….
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!”
It was…………………………………………………….Cobb!
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Chapter 5.
AN: STOP flaming! if u flam it menz ur a projection or a posr! Da only reson Coob swor is coz he had a hedache ok an on tup of dat he wuz mad at dem 4 having sexx! PS im nut updating umtil I get five good revoiws!
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Cobb made and Eames and I follow him. He kept shouting at us angrily. No surprise there.
“You ludacris fools!” he shouted.
I started to cry tears of blood down my pallid face. Eames comforted me. When we went back to the warehouse Cobb took us to Yusuf and Professor Miles who were both looking very angry.
“They were having sexual intercourse in the Eiffel Tower” he yelled in a furious voice.
“Why did you do such a thing, you mediocre dunces?” asked Professor Miles, looking at us over his glasses in that way that he does.
“How dare you?” demanded Yusuf, who was actually about to burst into laughter.
And then Eames shrieked. “BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!”
Everyone was quiet. I facepalmed. Cobb and Professor Miles still looked mad but Yusuf said. “Fine. Very well. You may go up to your rooms.” He tried unsuccessfully to cover a snort.
Eames and I went into the back room while my boss and his father in law glared at us.
“Are you okay, Arthur?” Eames asked me gently.
“Yeah I guess.” I lied giving him a weird look. I went to the washroom and brushed my teeth and my hair and changed into a tailored black Armani suit with a red tie and black shoes. When I came out….
Eames was standing in front of the washroom, and he started to sing ‘I just wanna live’ by Good Charlotte. I was frightened for his mental safety and I grabbed my totem but it was real. I tried to stop him when he hugged and kissed me because something weird was definitely happening but he did anyway. After that, he said goodnight and he reluctantly went back into the warehouse. I looked on my computer for what could be happening but there was nothing. I was sad.
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Chapter 6.
AN: shjt up projektionz ok! PS I wnot update ubtil u give me goood revows!
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The next day I woke up on my lawn chair. I put on a brown sweater vest that was all argyle on the front and matching trousers, a tie with red skulls all over it and expensive shoes that were black. I spray-painted my hair with gel.
In the main warehouse, I ate some Count Chocula cereal with blood instead of milk, and a glass of red blood. Suddenly someone walked across the warehouse to my chair and actively bumped into me. All the blood spilled over my lap.
“Bastard!” I shouted angrily. I regretted saying it when I looked up cause I was looking into the pale white face of a gothic boy with short brown hair without streaks in it. He cheekbones were so sharp they were going down his face and he was wearing a black tie. He didn’t have glasses anymore and now he was wearing red contact lenses just like Eames’s and there was no scar on his forhead anymore (though I don’t know why I thought there should be). He was without a manly stubble on his chin. He had a sexy lack of Australian accent. He looked exactly like Cillian Murphy. He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I’m a professional so I didn’t get one you sicko.
“I’m so sorry.” he said in a shy voice.
“That’s all right. What’s your name?” I questioned.
“My name’s Robert Fischer, although most people call me Woobie these days.” he grumbled.
“Why?” I exclaimed.
“Because I could only make out one word: disappointed.” he giggled. “Also, I love the taste of human blood.”
“Well, I am a vampire.” I confessed.
“Really?” he whimpered.
“Yeah.” I roared.
We sat down to talk for a while. Then Eames came up behind me and told me he had a surprise for me. I was wary but I went away with him.
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Chapter 7. Bring me 2 life
AN: wel ok u guyz im only writting dis cuz I cant stup laffing. n BTW I wont rite da nxt chapter til I git TIN god revows! STO FLAMING OR ILL REPORT U! Atuhur isn’t a Marie Sue ok he isn’t perfect HES A SATANITS! n he has problemz hes workin 4 Cobb 4 godz sake!
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Eames and I held our pale white hand and much less pale hands with as we went to the back room. It was weird but kind of nice also. I was wearing red Satanist sings on my tie in red stitching (AN: c doez dat sound lik a Maru Sue 2 u?). I waved to Woobie. Dark misery was in his depressed ice blue eyes. I guess he was jealous of me that I was going out with Eames. Or maybe it was cause his life sucked (AN: git it he is vampire lulz). Anyway, I went into the back room excitedly with Eames. We went into the broom cupboard and locked the door. Then…………
We started frenching pasiv-ly and we took off each others clothes enthusiastically. This felt weird and I tried to reach my totem but then he felt me up before I took out my totem. Then I took off my black leather jacket and he took off his pants. We went up against the wall and started making out naked and then he put his boy’s thingy in my derriere and we HAD SEX. (c is dat stupid?)
“Oh Eames, Eames!” I screamed while getting an orgasm when all of a sudden I saw a tattoo I had never seen before on Eames’s chest. It was the British flag which made a lot of sense since he is British. Also there was a black heart with an arrow through it. On it in bloody gothic writing were the words………… Woobie!
I was so angry.
“You bastard!” I shouted angrily, jumping out of the cupboard.
“No! No! But you don’t understand!” Eames pleaded. But I knew too much. And then I felt like I knew nothing at all. Where was that stupid die?
“No, you fucking idiot!” I shouted. “You probably have AIDs anyway!” (Note: I apologize for the original author’s stupidity and insensitivity. :P) I couldn’t believe I said that but my totem said it was real and Something fishy was definitely going on.
I put on my clothes all huffily and then stomped out. Eames ran out even though he was naked. He had a really big you-know-what but I was too mad to care. Not that I would care anyway. I stomped out and did so until I was in Woobie’s penthouse (it was a long stomp) where he was having his mind broken into by Yusuf and some other vaguely recognizable people.
“WOOBIE FISCHER, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” I yelled.
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Chapter 8.
AN: stop flassing ok! if u do den u r a projektion!
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Everyone in the penthouse stared at me cept Fischer he was actually asleep and then Eames came into the room even though he was naked and started begging me to take him back. Hadn’t I had a dream like this once?
“Arthur, it’s not what you think!” Eames screamed sadly.
My friend B’loody Mal Cobb smiled at me understatedly. She flipped her short gothic curly hair and opened her crimson eyes like blood that she was wearing contact lenses on. She had pale white skin that she was wearing white makeup on. Mal was kidnapped when she was born. Her real children are Philippa and James and one of them is a girl but a train killed her once and she committed suicide because she was depressed about it. She still has nightmares about it and she is very haunted and depressed. It also turns out her real last name is Cobb and not Miles. (Since she has converted to Satanism she is married to Cobb not single.)
“What is it that you desire, you ridiculous dimwit!” Yusuf demeaned angrily from behind the wheel of a van but I ignored him.
“Woobie, I can’t believe you cheated on me with Eames!” I shouted at him. Was this a dream?
Everyone gasped.
I don’t know why Arthur was so mad at me. I had went out with Woobie (I’m gay but Arthur is bi) for a while but then he broke my heart. He dumped me because he liked Ariadne, Arthur’s stupid goffik hipster friend. We were just good friends now. He had gone through horrible problems, and now he was gothic. (Haha, like I would hang out with a projection.)
“There’s really… nothing to be said.” said Woobie waking up.
“Yeah fucking right! Fuck off, you bastard!” I screamed. I ran out of the room and to the Eiffel Tower where I had lost my virility to Eames and then I started to bust into tears.
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Chapter 9.
AN: stop flaming ok! I dntn watch all da movie! dis is frum da trailer ok so itz nut my folt if coob swers! besuizds I SED HE HAD A HEDACHE! and da reson yusf dosent lik robert now is coz hes christian and woobie is a satanist! Moulin Rouge ROX!
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I was so mad and sad. I couldn’t believe Eames for cheating on me. I began to cry against the Eiffel Tower where I did it with Eames.
Then all of a suddenly, an horrible man with red eyes and a nose and everything started running towards me with a briefcase! He had a nose (basically the exact opposite of Voldemort in that movie) and he was wearing all black but it was obvious he wasn’t gothic. It was…… Saito!
“No!” I shouted in a scared voice and pulled out my Beretta but then Saito shouted “Illegal carrying!” and I had to put it away lest the police show up.
“Crookshanks!” I shouted at him. Saito stared at me for such a long time that I wondered if I had something on my face. I rolled my totem. It was reality but Saito was still stupid like a projection. I felt bad for him even though I’m a sadist so I stopped.
“Arthur.” he yelled. “Thou must dismantle Woobie Fisher’s company!”
I thought about Woobie and his sexah eyes and his gothic brown hair and how his face looks just like Cillian Murphy. I remembered that Eames had said I didn’t understand, so I thought, what if Eames went out with Woobie before I went out with him and they broke up?
“No, Saito!” I shouted back.
Saito gave me a serious look. “Wake up.” he said.
“No! Please!” I begged. And then I said “What?”
“Thou must!” he yelled. “If thou does not, then I shall buy thy beloved Eames! It seems neater.”
“How did you know?” I asked in a surprised way.
Saito got a dude-ur-so-retarded look on his face. “Everyone knows, Arthur.” he answered cruelly. “And if you doth not dismantle Woobie’s company, then thou know what will happen to Eames!” he shouted. Then he ran away angrily with his briefcase. But not before telling me to wake up again.
I was so scared and mad I didn’t know what to do. I took out my Beretta and contemplatively placed it against my head. But my totem said this was reality… Suddenly Eames came into the Eiffel Tower.
“Eames!” I said. “Hi!” I dropped my gun.
“Hi.” he said back but his face was all sad. He was wearing blue jeans and had messy hair kind of like a pentagram (geddit) between Tom Hardy in Scenes of a Sexual Nature and Tom Hardy in Wuthering Heights.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“No.” he answered.
“I’m sorry I got all mad at you but I thought you cheated on me.” I expelled.
“That’s okay.” he said all depressed and we went back into Sekrit Base together making out. “You also really need to wake up darling.” he said all soft and protective. “This isn’t real.” He got a sad look on his face.
“Don’t worry I would never love reality more than YOU!” I proclaimed and threw up a little in my mouth. What the hell was going on?
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Chapter 10.
AN: stup it if u donot lik ma story den fukk off! ps it turnz out b’loody mal isn’t a shade afert al n she n woobie r evil datz y dey are still alive ok!
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I was really scared about Sayto all day. I was even upset went to rehearsals with my gothic metal band Bloody Gothic Pasiv 528491. I am the lead singer of it and I play guitar. People say that we sound like a cross between Les Mis, CATS and Moulin Rouge. The other people in the band are B’loody Mal, Woobie, Eames, Nash (although we call him Diabolo now. He has black hair now with greasy streaks in it.) and Hargrid. Only today Eames and Woobie were depressed so they weren’t coming and we wrote songs instead. I knew Eames was probably slitting his wrists (he wouldn’t die because he was a forger and the only way you can kill a forger is with persistent denial of their come-ons (and I’d failed that already) or a bee sting (Eames is allergic)) and Woobie was probably watching a depressing movie like Red Eye. I put on a black Oxford shirt and tiny matching cufflinks that said Dunhill on them. You might think I’m a slut but I’m really not.
We were singing a cover of ‘Natural Woman’ and at the end of the song I suddenly bust into tears.
“Arthur! Are you OK?” B’loody Mal asked in a concerted French voice.
“What the fuck do you think?” I asked angrily. And then I said. “Well, Saito came and the fucking bastard told me to fucking dismantle Robert Fischer’s company! But I don’t want to do that, because, he’s really nice, even if he did go out with Eames. But if I don’t dismantle the company, then Saito, will fucking buy Eames!” I burst into tears.
Suddenly Eames jumped out from behind a wall. I have no idea how he got there in the first place.
“Why didn’t you fucking tell me!” he shouted. “How could you- you- you fucking poser projection bitch!” (c is dat out of character?)
I started to cry and cry. Eames started to cry too all sensitive. Then he ran out crying. This was getting honestly bizarre. Perhaps I should kill myself on principle.
We practiced for one more hour. Then suddenly Cobb walked in angrily! His eyes were all fiery and I knew this time it wasn’t cause he had a headache. It was probably sleep deprivation or some kind of overdose.
“What have you done!” He started to cry wisely. (c dats basically nut swering and dis time he wuz relly upset n u wil c y) “Arthur Eames has been found in the back room. He committed suicide by slitting his wrists.”
“What?” I said. I started to cry tears of blood down my pale face. Then I decided that I couldn’t live without him (c is DAT out of character?) and I shot myself in the face.
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“…rthr? Arthur? He’s coming to.”
I blinked, my vision slowly clearing. I was on my back, lying on the floor, it felt like. The cold of concrete was seeping through my clothing and chilling me. I could feel goosebumps on my arms. I must have been down for a while, then. Above me, Dom came into sight, an intense look on his face that was halfway between anger and concern.
“Don’t try to get up just yet,” he said, and I obediently stayed still. I was becoming aware of a dull throb in my temples that made immobility fine with me.
“What happened?” My mouth was dry and my voice sounded hoarse. “How long was I out?”
“It was a bad batch of somnacin,” came Yusuf’s voice. I turned my head and saw him going through a stack of printed files at his desk. This confirmed that we were still in the warehouse. I suddenly felt a shiver run down my spine.
“My totem…” I slipped my hand into my pocket, my fingertips meeting the familiar plastic weight of my die. And yet… “It was malfunctioning in the dream. I kept thinking it was reality…” I swallowed nervously. There was the possibility, then, that this was also a dream state. I licked my lips and sat up slowly. “Where’s Eames?”
“Your totem should still work fine with clean compounds,” Yusuf reassured as Cobb helped me up to sit on a nearby chair. I seemed to have fallen off of mine sometime while asleep. “Given that it was your own mind that generated the hallucination dream, any totem would be useless. Do you remember how you got here?”
“I think so.” I rubbed my temple. “We were going over the blueprints for the second dream level this morning, and then we went under to test the sedative… I recall the casino as it should have been, and then… I think I was a vampire.” I cringed as the words left my mouth, realizing suddenly how ridiculous it sounded, but Cobb was nodding and neither he nor Yusuf looked amused.
“Our hallucinatory dreams were also complete nonsense,” Cobb said, looking away from me. Yusuf smiled then.
“Apparently, he was walking through all these movies, but he could only do this weird sort of strut.” He attempted to demonstrate, only to earn a disapproving squint from Cobb. I couldn’t laugh, though it looked ridiculous, still a little too shaken by the experience.
“At least I wasn’t Forever Alone,” Cobb muttered. Yusuf sighed.
“Yes, it was an experience I’d rather not relive. I’m working on fixing the compound as we speak.”
“That’s great,” I said, my headache finally subsiding somewhat. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Where is Eames?”
Cobb pointed behind me at the other lawn chairs. Eames was lying on one, a beatific smile on his face, his hands clasped calmly over his stomach. I swallowed down a sudden rush of relief to see him alive and well, which was ridiculous. I needed to clear my head of this stupid vampire dream. “Why is he still dreaming?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we wake him?”
Once again, it was Yusuf who spoke up, Cobb choosing instead to go into the back room. “He woke up before you did and wanted to go back under. Apparently, he actually liked his hallucination. Once I made sure there weren’t any physical side effects besides lethargy - that was your problem, Arthur - I let him go.” He shrugged.
I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of enjoying the messed-up dream state. Bewildered, I asked “What was he dreaming about?”
“I’m not sure, but…” Yusuf looked nervous and started toying with one of his empty vials, as if he would have preferred, suddenly, to join Cobb in the back room. Indeed, he flicked his gaze over there once or twice as I waited. Finally, he just sighed. “He said something about a… ‘kink meme’? Apparently, there were lots of girls there who liked to write… slash.”
“I have no idea what that means.” I frowned. Why was this so complicated?
“Basically, it’s gay erotica,” Yusuf explained, cheeks coloring slightly. “Most of the time the stories feature fictional characters, but I guess that since it was Eames’s mind…”
I did not like where this was going.
“…Arthur/Eames was the flavor of the day.”
I stood up. “I don’t want to know how you know that, but thank you, Yusuf, for the explanation.” Very deliberately, I rolled up my sleeves and headed toward Eames.
I was going to kill him.
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