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[diastereomer]

Wh-

[ Rustling can be heard over the network, like someone rolling around in their sheets despite it being nearly two in the afternoon. After a moment, the sound of an object (Yusuf's alarm clock, as it were) can be heard being picked up and put back down. His curtain is wide open, and yet the sun that usually wakes him up is not out, The City is as darker than Mombasa on a moonless night- at lest they had the stars... ]

The clock must be off- or-

[ A glance at the clock again, where the date reads on the digital face Sat Oct 15. ]

Oh, yes. The weekend, yet again.

I suppose there could be worse occurrences than a curse that tempts one to sleep the day away...

[ Noticing that little light on his device is on- he knows he didn't touch the thing- he picks it up and contemplates apologizing for any naps that he may have interrupted. ]

If this device were a woman, I might actually be flattered.

Comments

[extreames.livejournal.com]

[ Overhearing the alarm go off in Yusuf's room, Eames helps himself into the man's sleeping chamber - or rather, himself in the form of a rather oldie-but-goodie herself, leaning against the frame of the door, arms crossed underneath a full bosom. Curse or no curse, temporary gifting or otherwise, Eames has missed terribly the ability to move in and out of skin, take on different personas, not be so self-limiting to his own parameters, so he's taking full advantage of it now, gazing at Yusuf with raised brows. ]

Lazy lug. Are you going to stay in bed all day?

[ Er. ]

Night.

[diastereomer.livejournal.com]

[ Of all the things that could possibly make waking up at 2pm better (well, better than sleeping in already is) Madam Maxim, as she is so affectionately dubbed both in and out of Yusuf's mind, standing in his doorway is very, very high up there. Of course, this only happens in dreams- and must mean that he's still asleep.

But really... there are literally a million worse things he could be dreaming about. ]

It is an idea I had entertained. Are you not a fan?

[extreames.livejournal.com]

Early bird, and all that.

[ Being that all he has at his disposal are his own clothes, Madam Maxim is not dressed to her best as she might often be - one of Yusuf's kurtas thusly stolen to accommodate her larger frame, Eames' looser trousers underneath. Picking up Rhada from her resting place at the end of the bed, he tucks the cat under his arm as he settles himself down, legs crossed underneath himself with Rhada on his lap. ]

I thought you might be interested in researching this phenomenon, of sorts.

[diastereomer.livejournal.com]

[ Dem. Curves.

That's pretty much all Yusuf's got to say as he scoots up to a semi-seated position, sheets draped across his lap and his own sleep shirt twisted about him from sleeping. His kurta fits her well in all the places that count, and Yusuf is only human he's going to take a look, no need to deny it. Rhada seems confused by the form, but essentially unfazed, as if she knows the feel of Eames' hands on her even if the thighs she's curled up in are considerably more comfortable than the forger's.

He cannot help but grin at Eames' choice of words. ]

You should know I am always interested in researching this particular phenomenon.

[extreames.livejournal.com]

[ Eames purses his mouth a bit, head dipping to look down at Rhada, fingers working her fur over playfully as he rolls the cat onto her back to get at her tummy. ]

It comes and goes, to be honest. The first time, it was just one form, only for a day. The second time, several months afterward, just before your arrival - it could be any form if the focus was strong enough, but I couldn't gather the voice properly. Now, it's as it ought to be.

It's difficult to find a consistent factor.

[diastereomer.livejournal.com]

As it ought to be meaning, you can switch to and from at will?

[ Unless Eames has a specific penchant for wearing Yusuf's clothing, Yusuf can't imagine why he'd just be walking around in a forge's skin. Not, mind you, that Yusuf is in any way complaining. ]

[extreames.livejournal.com]

That's right.

Other than the lack of apparent day time, it doesn't seem to be much different from those previous weekends.

[diastereomer.livejournal.com]

[ As if on cue, or perhaps simply from the mention of the darkness, Yusuf yawns, wiping at his eyes once the yawn passes. ]

And you decided to put on your best face to come wake me up; my friend, you are far too considerate for the company you keep.

[extreames.livejournal.com]

Thought I would be nice, while I still have the ability.

[ He rifles through the kurta to reach his pockets of his pajama bottoms, retrieving a rumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter before leaning over Yusuf to shove open the window. The night brings a cool breeze into the room, and Eames inhales deeply, slipping the end of one between his teeth, working on lighting it with a few flicks of the fresh zippo. ]

Rather miss it. Dreaming.

[diastereomer.livejournal.com]

Ultimately, you will find, I am not complaining.

[ There is a tilted head at the sight of the fag, a brilliant white in the darkness of the room- as if acknowledging just how out of place it is in the fingers of the woman in front of him. Perhaps it "doesn't count" when it's in a dream, but of all the times Yusuf has seen those blunt fingertips roll the packed tobacco between them, he's never seen the other actually light up. Reaching out to touch the hand sparking the lighter's flint, Yusuf can't help the way worry bleeds into his voice as he reminds, ]

Eames, we are dreaming.

[signatures]

[ Eames pauses. ] No- I know that, Yusuf, I meant...

[ He rubs at his brow, and in a few blinks of the eye it's back to his natural split hairs of his eyebrow. Fag finally lit up, he takes a slow drag, cheeks hollowing. It's another exhale before he continues. ] I meant, it's not much of a proper dream, is it?

[diastereomer.livejournal.com]

At times it certainly has all the trappings of a 'proper dream', as you say. But there absence of light, [ Yusuf gestures out the window, wondering for a split second whether the perpetual night has affected Arthur's horrible sleep schedule at all. ] Or presence of whatever else, does seem worryingly orchestrated.

[signatures]

It's difficult to find explanations for all that's going on here. I've been here for apparent- [ He flicks the tip of his cigarette toward the window, letting whatever small amount of ash collected fall away. ] Seven months, is it, and I've gotten no closer.

I'd hoped it was a natural dream of sorts, at first. [ Though that'd quickly been struck out of the question. Not with Arthur as he is. ]

[diastereomer.livejournal.com]

When I think I have an explanation, however farfetched, it inevitably resolves into nothing more than circumstance.

You thought this a dream of your own making? [ Interested, Yusuf recalls Eames' particular reputation. Not just a forger but The Forger. Though he's sure the unspoken invitation has been there, to enter the other's mind when he's supine on a cot with the heat of Mombasa pressing spots of sweat onto his patterned shirts, he's never taken the invitation. Yusuf is not a dreamer, and he has always known his limits. ]

[signatures]

The natural sort, without all the mechanics, yes. I've never quite been a naturally lucid dreamer, you know, so the lack of control here, the lack of- well, anything, and my last memory being of my hotel room, it was a first thought.

[ He takes another long drag, shuffling around on the bed a bit to prop his back against the window sill where the bed is tucked against, legs draping across Yusuf's sheeted ones. ] What else was I to think, a place like this?