diastereomer | v o i c e ] [ 001

[ There are several ways that Yusuf can think of right off the top of his head that would qualify as "nicely" between the two of them, but that's hardly appropriate when Eames is actually helping him without too much hassle. Though, they wouldn't be in this situation is Yusuf hadn't been dreamt in at the most ridiculous outskirts of the subconscious. Instead, he pays attention to the way Eames shuts it off and is sure not to press that button as he takes it back. ] Thank you.

[ He sounds a little broken when he looks around the immediate area for said instruction booklet. ] It came with a manual?

I'll have Arthur write you one, [ he amends, sidling up next to Yusuf as he guides the chemist to begin walking with a hand briefly pressed between his shoulder blades. ] I'm sure it'll bring him a rapturous amount of satisfaction to practice his technical writing.

[ Though they've bigger problems at hand than that. ]

That is, quite alright. I hardly plan to stay down here much longer. [ Yusuf takes the hint, knowing Eames' movements for the most part; how he likes to herd people with his hands the same way he does with the cats about his ankles around dinner time. It's a habit he would be more interested in if he were prone to figuring out people's motivations and not just their compositions. It's easy enough to follow Eames and stay in step with him, the other man a familiar presence at Yusuf's side. ]

[ There's a quick flick of Eames' lips, teeth pressing against the inside of his upper lip. He thinks maybe it's best to wait for Arthur to get into full detail, but there's only so long he can really prolong it, in the end. ]

The thing is, Yusuf, we're not entirely sure how to leave. Nor how we came to be sharing all this to begin with.

[ His eyebrows make their slow, almost worried way up his forehead. If he were more talented (or his hair longer) they would disappear beneath his curls, but as things stand they come to rest just under his bangs. ]

I could recount some of your more attention grabbing exits, surely, but I would hate for you to take my recounting them as flattery. Really Eames, one can only take the piss so far.

[ For his part, Eames only remains quiet, lips pursing as he looks on ahead, hand folding on his hip while the other swings lightly in the rotation of his arm as they walk. ]

Let me ask you something - what do you last remember?

Edited 2011-09-13 20:45 (UTC)

I was at the shop, [ Yusuf starts, as if this questioning is entirely unnecessary. ] Working on an absorption modification for a compound. Acids were proving unhelpful in the pathway so I figured metals might bind easier. They are rather expensive for the purer metals-- gold, platinum, the like-- so I sat down to figure that out, pricing and such [ Yusuf waves a hand, ] Preemptive but necessary if I am going to make the order either way, and...

[ Footsteps slowing a degree, Yusuf follows that thread of thought right into oblivion. ] Curious.

[ Logically he should know that if Eames and Arthur are down here, then he must have closed up shop early and set them up in the small room with walls made more of bookshelves than plaster and the comfortable papasan. But he's dredging up another memory, nothing so close to the forefront as an action performed only moments ago. ] I suppose I... I have no idea.

[ Eames nods shortly, as though it was the sort of answer he was predicting, despite the awful way it sits on the mind, to not know entirely where one is supposed to be. ]

Arthur and I can only last recall the completion of the job, [ he explains, ] that thirty-eight hour interval where I was going to transfer to Italy for that opportunity in Florence, remember, I told you of it once before.

But from the sounds of it, you should already be back to your enterprise, and when Ariadne was here briefly - well, it seemed as though it had been months past. Whatever is happening here, we didn't all come down together.

[ At least that takes the slight worry that Yusuf is accidentally poisoning them all a comfortable distance out of the equation- not entirely (the chemistry associated with these compounds is far too complex to exclude anything just yet) but there are a myriad of possibilities they have yet to explore and Yusuf seems less likely the cause.

Small victories!

Confused, Yusuf glances at Eames with a bit of concern. ] What do you mean when? Where has Ariadne gone?

She's woken up, I would guess - though I don't know what that bodes for her, exactly.

[ It's difficult to tell much of anything, from the pacing up there compared to down here, whether they've got something larger on their hands or a fluke. There's uncertainties at play but Eames has never held the term impossible within arm's reach, simply because nothing is impossible. ]

We can only hope it is for the best, in that case...

[ Which could mean anything from at least she's out of the dream to she might have been more help down here for all that she knows how to operate a PASIV. Ariadne is a brilliant girl, but she is not a chemist. And even if she did wake up back in the lab (as unlikely as that is)...

Yusuf doesn't label his bottles.

Running a hand through his hair, Yusuf tries to go about this the scientific way. What are the facts? ] Did one of you wake her up? How long has she been gone? And, I suppose, relatively, how long have the two of you been here?

No, she just- wasn't around any longer. There's a hall here that seems to have a record on everyone who leaves - don't ask me the mechanics of it, I'm really not so certain. She disappeared near the end of May; we searched the entire City.

[ Eames smooths the hair on the nape of his neck down, thoughtful. ] Arthur has been here since April. It's September, now. As for me, well, there's another layer of complexity to it.

[ They pass by a brick building and Eames makes as if to turn left, and Yusuf follows his directing easily as walking his way home from the market. He'll have to go see this wall for himself, assuming there is the opportunity. ]

Well, don't keep me in suspense. What is this additional complexity?

Before we woke up on the plane, I ended up here - back in October of the previous year, or thereabouts. I don't remember every detail of it, but there you go. There was a month gap between that visit and when I ended up back here again, this time with Arthur.

Then there is, of course, the multitude of things that occur while here. [ Eames leads them to the eleventh quarter, where their apartment complex resides, pulling open the lobby doors for Yusuf and waving him in. ]

[ Running the calculation in his head, Yusuf has to add yet another possibility into the mix. If Eames has been down here that long, it is very possible that this isn't the first layer. They could be layers deep, mucking through the layers of the subconscious with little idea of how or why because of the sheer depth of the sedation.

Which is very bad, once the mind has acclimated to the dream as reality.

Yusuf takes a look around the inside of the building-- nothing too extraordinary-- and follows Eames' lead to the elevator, pressing the only button there is to press. Up. ] You mean, stranger things than you are used to in dreams? Because this place seems... very normal to me.

That's because you've come in after midnight. Thinks have a tendency to die down, then. [ Eames rubs at the scruff on his jaw, glancing down at the pressed button, then up to the rows of numbers flashing as the carriage makes its way down to the ground floor. He digs out his device to find the manual he'd procured for Arthur concerning what the citizens had made of their City here, and the consequent curses and the like.

He hands it over for Yusuf to read. ]

There's this, if you'd like to have a look over, before we inundate you with information. There are- well, environmental shifts from anything I can tell, people to the weather, memory wipes, turning into animals or the opposite gender. There's no real sense to it, but all of the blame is put on what are referred to as Deities.

[ Eames promises he hasn't gone batshit, okay. ]

I'm not sure if it's the trajectory of a lack of lucidity or somehow related to the chemistry of it. [ Like a bad acid trip. ]

Thank you, [ Yusuf takes Eames' device, glad to have something a little more like realism (manuals, instructions, restrictions and the like) at his fingertips. Then again, there is a lot of information here. He has barely scrolled through half of it (perusing the titles and getting a feel for the length of the text) when the elevator dings open. When they're both inside, Eames hits the 9 button and it glows a subtle golden color.

Why Yusuf finds himself noting this (as if he might use it later, as if he might need it later) is a self-proclaimed mystery. ]

Deities... [ Are you entirely sure? Because Yusuf is giving you the are you entirely sure you aren't barking look right now... ] Right. So are we talking naked white men or blue four armed destroyers? [ And, even though it's a little ridiculous sounding, he still provides his reasoning-- scientific inquiry is a hard process to unlearn. ] The chemicals might have an influence on the frequency, possibly the shifts, but the representations will give an idea as to who's mind we're traipsing through.

A few weeks ago, Arthur had the rather firm belief that he was a cat. [ Eames returns Yusuf's look with one of his own, the sort of don't fuck with me I know what I'm talking about type of focus before he looks down at their feet - Yusuf's shoes in particular, then back up to his bearded mouth, his eyes. ]

It's all over the bloody place, honestly. There are talking dragons. I was gouged by a unicorn. Death doesn't take us anywhere but remaining here with a stilled heartbeat.

Well, at least we know he was in good hands. [ Considering the way Eames spoils the cats at Yusuf's place...

Worriedly, Yusuf thinks back to the carousel and is kind of glad he didn't go exploring. His mouth forms the words 'gouged by a unicorn' and suddenly the joking way he'd proposed a very similar idea to Arthur not twenty minutes prior seems almost in bad taste. Must be something in the air down here. ] Hence... not being able to kick out.

[ The which I am assuming you have already tried is unspoken but heavily implied. Yusuf's fingers itch to feel for a pulse at Eames' scarred wrist. ]

He wouldn't stop licking himself. [ Eames grimaces pointedly here, but he has little more to say of it as they reach the ninth floor, doors sliding open. Without much pause, he steps out into the carpeted hall, pulling his keys from his front left pocket as they approach the flat he and Arthur share. ]

Arthur will be able to fill you in better on the attempt, [ he clarifies lightly, slotting the key into the lock and tipping it open. Right before he eases the door out, though, he almost forgets to mention: ] Er, we've a puppy. Long story, that bit.

[ How to best explain Arthur's previous temporary lack of sight and now memory loss... He'll let the pointman figure that one out. He nudges the door the rest of the way open with his shoulder, opening it wide for them both. ]

[ When the door opens, it opens onto the scene of Arthur picking Pancake up, holding him under his arm. His jacket draped over one of the kitchen chairs, the corgi keeps scrabbling at the point man's waistcoat, trying to get free in order to charge the newcomer. He hears just the last sentence and his brow quirks as he nods at both Eames and Yusuf. ]

Name's Pancake. Don't ask me why. It was Ariadne's idea.

[ As if on cue, Pancake proceeds to yip. Loudly. It's close to a bark, but not quite. Arthur blinks down at him and holds his muzzle for a second only to contradict the discipline by scratching behind his ears, but it doesn't matter; Pancake shuts up for the moment. ]

[ Fabulous. The first time he's seen Arthur in a while and the only thing Yusuf can think of is Eames saying He wouldn't stop licking himself. He is going to strangle the forger in his sleep.

Yusuf moves himself into the apartment hastily, seeing the wiggling dog in Arthur's arms and the way Eames guards the door. The training is obviously a work in progress. To say Arthur looks out of place affectionately scritching a plump little dog behind the ears would be an understatement.

Then again. Unicorns. ]

I am a little disappointed he is not wearing a scarf, being that you let Ariadne name him.

He used to have one. He turned it into a toy, is all.

[ Eames corrects wryly, rolling his shoulders as he shuts the door behind them once they're both fully inside, locking it with a turn of the bolt. He leans back against it, then, unbuttoning a few of the fastenings at his collar even further as he gazes at Yusuf, then Arthur, then back to Yusuf again. ]

Where should we start, then? Tea, Yusuf?

[ With the door shut, Arthur sets the dog down, absently smoothing his palms down the lines of his waistcoat, frowning a little as Pancake noses around Yusuf's feet before deciding to start running into Eames' shins instead. At the mention of tea however he looks up again. ]

Kettle's already on. [ If neither of them wants it, that's fine, but Arthur already has a pot of coffee going for himself. He heads to the kitchen in any case, tossing his next words over his shoulder. ] There's coffee too. [ As if either of them prefer it - but fair to put the offer there and none of the explanations they have are going to necessarily be short.

Remembering how he couldn't believe it himself, Arthur is perhaps prepared for more skepticism than strictly likely from the chemist, but it's hard to say with someone who's not usually one for going into the field in the first place. Asking what Eames has already covered is redundant; he figures he'll find out soon just by the questions Yusuf still has worth asking. ]

[ The dog is a flurry of movement by Eames' feet, either begging for attention or attempting to bowl him over with nothing more than its furious headbutting against his shins. Yusuf has never been an animal person, the cats had originally been an inexpensive solution to an occasional mouse problem- and now they were permanent residents. He has honestly forgotten what it's like to not wake up to a feline kneading his shins through the light sheets-- an alarm he never needs to set because when the cats are hungry, Yusuf knows. The little dog, Pancake, is... considerably more forceful in his affections.

If Yusuf finds it strange that they're living together, he doesn't say anything. If he finds it odd that the two seem in the habit of drinking caffeinated beverages well past midnight, he's good about keeping that to himself. And if he happens to notice that Arthur is the one to put the kettle on, as if he knows how Eames likes to come home, well, those observations are for another conversation.

Right now, Yusuf has enough questions to warrant the tea, and finds the idea more than appealing. ] If you have milk, I could go for a cuppa.

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