agogelogs | returning nightmares only shadows

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returning nightmares only shadows

WHO? Eames and you!
WHAT? Eames' male spider posse (save him), watching fights, drinking and thinking
WHEN? vaguely around now in Spiderland
ANYTHING ELSE? I can match you with prose or action spam!

( Prompt 1 | like a toy spinning too fast )

It's ridiculous, but after his public victory over Heneb, some of the males are actually copying his outfits, which tend to trend toward extremely colorful on their own. But Eames decides to test the limits of this. And every time, they start wearing what he's wearing.

So there's a very good explanation as to why Eames is wearing a bright orange ascot. But it doesn't stop him from looking ridiculous. Rather, he's just made all the male spiders look ridiculous too.

The other side effect of this victory is a little fan club. They oo and ah and ask him to say the line, say the line! Eames smiles stiffly for the thousandth time, and says, "Heneb, I seem to have caught you in your own web... of lies."

And then he spots you and starts hurrying toward you, even if Eames doesn’t really know you. "Excuse me, gents. Urgent business to attend to."

He sidles up to you and murmurs, "Get me out of here or they'll make me tell more jokes."

( Prompt 2 | like a ghost )

The stadium is weird. Supposed to be entertaining, kind of terrifying instead. It reminds Eames of the carnage back in his days in the British army in Project Somnacin's test dreams, getting trapped under rubble, getting stabbed just so that the higher-ups think you can handle the pain. And that was before the somnacin was really stable, before the soldiers could even support a whole level when they were under duress.

Eames is supposed to be made of tougher stuff than this.

He gets up, leaves as quickly and quietly as he can. He's craving a cigarette, but, even if they have some here, Eames wants to save his money. He digs in his pocket for his poker chip and bumps right into someone, his poker chip dropping to the ground.

"I'll get it," he says quickly if they bend to pick it up.

Or maybe you run into him later, feeding his terrible, renewed smoking addiction. John wasn't kidding; this is stronger. He leans against a wall, closing his eyes and breathing in the smoke. He puffs it out, murmuring, "Christ," under his breath.

( Prompt 3 | like a wildfire )

He has a table to himself, and he’s quiet compared to the chaos around him. He's careful not to draw attention to himself, since so many Araneans get so overexcited during games. He's thinking, kind of stumped after his last attempt to sneak anywhere was pretty much a bust.

It's packed in the bar, so when he sees a fellow COST member, he waves you over.

"You're welcome to sit with me,” he says over the noise, "You're not likely to find a seat elsewhere."

( Prompt 4 | wildcard )

[ooc: or anything else! Leave me a prompt or pp me on plurk for something different!]

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After his victory and subsequent injuries John is finally on the mend. His body still hasn't fully healed and he knows he has to take it easy, but damn does it feel good to walk again.

John still has to walk slowly, and is forced my his body to rest after several minutes. His shirt bulks a little around his midsection where bandages cover the sensitive area. Currently to stretch his legs he takes a leisurely stroll with his pipe. The spider tobacco definitely helps with both the pain and the cravings, well worth the risk. He's enjoying another puff when another man quickly stands next to him, brushing up against the bandages.

With a wince John wraps an arm around his stomach. "Not so close if you don't mind." That's when he realizes. That voice. "Mr. Eames I presume?"

He feels bad, obviously having hurt the other man, and steps back a little. That's when John realizes who he is, and vice versa. He blinks, then grins at the other man.

"Yes, that's me. Joe Strummer, my, my, my! You look different than I imagined."

John's a little more attractive than Eames would like to admit, but he's not about to make a move. Things are bit too complicated in Eames' head to even think of that right now.

"I'm sorry for the bump into you, my friend. How're you holding up?"

"I'm on the mend as you can see, but unfortunately I'm unable to walk long before I have to sit." John leans his head toward Eames, bending while staying careful to not the bump his injuries.

"But you can help by telling me how you imagined I looked." John gives an easy wink before continuing along the path chosen for himself. "Though if it's anything less than flattering I do believe I hold every right to terminate the conversation."

Eames pauses as John walks on, then grins and walks a little faster to catch up with him.

"Not unflattering! Just, I thought you'd be cute! Not... this fit," he murmurs in hopes that John will just let that not-very-slick comment slide. He cant help that John's his type. He clears his throat, walking alongside him now.

"If you have spare time, I'm craving a smoke."

John definitely catches the remark and gives a lift of both eyebrows in both assessment and to relay the message that he'd heard. In another time and place John would have pursued the comment relentlessly, growing close to Eames and demanding to know more in a tone both authoritative and inviting.

But he does let the comment slide, just as Eames had hoped for. What John chooses to address instead is the smoking comment, to which he lifts his pipe proudly between them.

"Not only do I have spare time, I have a spare pipe and tobacco as well. Mind if we find somewhere to sit?"

He feels a keen sense of relief at John letting it go, though he's not sure why. He shouldn't be embarrassed. It's a problem he's been having a lot lately.

He brightens at the comment, nodding. "Not at all. I do love a man who comes prepared."

And then he's pointing at a little alcove off to the side. "Thought I'd quit smoking, but COST got me back into it."

"Ah, another smoker?" John too brightens. "Tell me, where have you gotten your cigarettes? I found a great deal at one of the missions and hoarded as many as I could, but since then they've been hard to come by."

He heads to the alcove, reaching into his inner pocket to hand Eames the spare pipe. "So as you can see, I've improvised."

Edited 2018-06-14 12:00 (UTC)

Eames accepts it with a grin and a nod. "Yes, I see that. Bummed some off another COST member to be honest. Shit's stressful around here."

He holds out a hand, an offer to help John sit, and then sits himself at the alcove. The pipe seems to delight him, and he grins as he looks over it. "Did you really make these?"

John takes the hand as he sits, knowing far too well by now that accepting help is far less painful than if he doesn't.

After settling with a grimace John gives Eames a quick "ta" before reaching into his coat for the tobacco and lighter. "You doubt my craftsmanship? Of course I did. Took a few goes to perfect but when you can do nothing else but sit one has to keep mind and hands occupied."

He begins to pack the pipe with the tobacco from the small bag before handing the bag to Eames. "Watch yourself with that stuff, it's got a kick."

The amused smile on his face never goes away. He takes the tobacco with a quick grin and packs his own pipe carefully.

"Delightful little things. Arthur would be horrified."

He sticks it so it's hanging crookedly out of his mouth and poses with his chin on his fist, trying to look like The Thinker. "Very stylish. Got a light?"

John is never without a lighter. With it still in hand he leans toward Eames to light the pipe. He makes certain that the spark takes hold before then turning the flame to his own pipe. Taking a few initial puffs, John nods with satisfaction and sets the lighter between them in the event that it's needed again.

There's a quick inclination of the head toward the post with an amused grin of appreciation. "Do you always worry about what Arthur would think?"

Eames gives a practiced few puffs at it, sighing in pleasure and leaning back against the wall behind them.

That question, though, has his hackles raising. "No," he says quickly, pausing to take an inhale on his pipe before frowning and releasing the breath and smoke. He turns his head to look at John, unsure.

"...Well... I mean, a little. I'm not looking for his bloody approval or anything, but his opinion is-..."

He cuts himself off, frowning again. "Mind keeping another secret?"

The fluster makes John grin to himself. It's an easy telltale sign that he's on to something, and frankly, that something wasn't so hard to sniff out. It was less finding, more dropped directly onto his nose.

Before answering John takes a long inhale, allowing the properties of the tobacco to begin filtering through his body before an exhale.

"If your secret is that you fancy him it's not a very well kept secret, mate."

...Eames stares for a second, frowning deeply at his friend.

And then he sighs and drops his face into his hands. "Fuck."

Rubbing at his face, he releases it and returns to puffing on his pipe, looking utterly grumpy now. He glances back at John.

"I think it's serious. It's as if I can't even flirt with anybody else anymore; I just bumble around like an idiot because all I can think of is him!" he complains, gesturing with his pipe in hand.

"Well now, give yourself some credit. You flirted with me a little over the network. And you seem to walk in a straight line just fine."

The frowning look isn't a good one, but it says a great deal. Eames' mind was too involved, too occupied. A person gets stupid when they're distracted like that.

"On second thought," he points to Eames with the pipe, "considering you ran into me perhaps the bumbling idiot assessment isn't too off the mark."

He looks away, the sting of that last part smarting.

"Thought you'd at least humor me."

He doesn't try to argue, but he still wants to hold the remark against John. He holds off. For now. "I like the pipes, for the record," he says a bit flatly.

John has no regrets about his comment. After all, it was Eames who had opened the door for comparison.

"I can flatter and I can be honest with equal ability. Lucky for you, you seem to have found your way to the latter. As the person who knows myself best, I promise that this is the better of the two options."

The flat tone does nothing to deter John as he takes another puff. "But you're right. The pipes are good." Apparently the flattery was saved for himself today. "If you have any advice on how to better distribute them I'll gladly listen." Provided that the idea wasn't as idiotic as mooning over someone so badly it impeded one's ability to walk.

"Yeah, I can tell you right where to stick that pipe, friend," he mumbles, the words slurred around his pipe. He pulls it from his mouth with a more recovered grin.

"Actually, in all seriousness, I have a small fanbase of spiders, as you probably saw earlier. I could just smoke a little around them, talk it up for you."

Another quick grin. "For a price, of course."

"Seems we've been thinking the same thing, great minds and all that." The comment about telling John just where to stick it only served to further endear Eames as someone he'd like to spend more time with.

"I wouldn't dream of not cutting you in on the deal. Keeping in mind that these are my creation with my handiwork, what would you consider to be a fair share for your contribution?"

"Great minds indeed," he responds to that with a grin. He nods, tapping a finger on the side of the pipe, deciding to go for a ridiculous number he doesn't think he even would deserve. Start high. "One-third the profits."

The number causes John to cough, and with his sputter her removes the pipe from his mouth entirely.

"One-third? Are you off your head? Spokespeople typically earn ten percent. Take it or leave it."

Though he likes Eames, John is fully prepared to walk away. The pipes were good, they could take off on their own, though it may need a bit more time. If he was reading this guy correctly then he would fold to the new terms relatively quickly.

That makes him grin even harder. "I just wanted you to see that I'm valuable."

He holds out his hand to shake, though. "Deal. Thought you'd make me go lower."

Another toothy grin as he sticks his pipe back in his mouth, triumphant.

"I thought about making you go lower too. But we'll still be working together, yeah? Can't be having my spokesmodel resent me. Seems only fair."

John leans in for the shake, returning a smile just as triumphant. "We're going to make a lot of money together, you cocky bastard."

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returning nightmares only shadows

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