[ writing ] i am the closest thing to god;
Eames owned no mirrors.
In the safehouses he stayed in, on his person, in his apartments there wasn't a single silvery reflective surface to be found. Odd, since he used them in dreams to perfect his forgeries. Had to, really.
Odd to other people, anyway.
Eames liked how he looked. He liked the way his muscles fit on his body, the color of his eyes, the ink that darkened his skin and the pen ink that would darken the tips of his fingers when he wrote.
Eames as a rule generally didn't keep modern appliances in his houses either. A stove but no microwave; pen and paper but no laptop; books upon books but no television. His only concession was a cell phone.
There were reasons, of course.
A mirror in the real world would not reflect back his stubbled visage, but something else. Black-red eyes and stained teeth; not skin but something of a leathery texture, impervious to heat. Still bulky but a twisted visage, the thing of nightmares. Demonic. For the same reason electronic appliances tended to short out near him; his cell phone was old and cheap for just this reason, his constant breaking of it.
Eames was not ashamed of being a demon but he didn't need to be reminded of it every waking day.
In the safehouses he stayed in, on his person, in his apartments there wasn't a single silvery reflective surface to be found. Odd, since he used them in dreams to perfect his forgeries. Had to, really.
Odd to other people, anyway.
Eames liked how he looked. He liked the way his muscles fit on his body, the color of his eyes, the ink that darkened his skin and the pen ink that would darken the tips of his fingers when he wrote.
Eames as a rule generally didn't keep modern appliances in his houses either. A stove but no microwave; pen and paper but no laptop; books upon books but no television. His only concession was a cell phone.
There were reasons, of course.
A mirror in the real world would not reflect back his stubbled visage, but something else. Black-red eyes and stained teeth; not skin but something of a leathery texture, impervious to heat. Still bulky but a twisted visage, the thing of nightmares. Demonic. For the same reason electronic appliances tended to short out near him; his cell phone was old and cheap for just this reason, his constant breaking of it.
Eames was not ashamed of being a demon but he didn't need to be reminded of it every waking day.