reality is hard to keep track of

[pointedlook]

WHO? Arthur pointedlook and Cobb squint
WHAT? A re-meeting between two friends.
WHEN? Just after Cobb arrives.
ANYTHING ELSE? Maybe some angst, a lot of talk about dreamshare and their current circumstances.

[ True to his word, Arthur sends Cobb a text with coordinates. It's to the room he's been staying in, away from the chaos closer to the center of Paris. While he's gone out and checked out what the people are up to lately, he prefers the quieter sections of the city. It's easier to think this way, to work through the complicated problem of being in a past timeline when from the future. And how not to mess things up– well, more than they have already.

He's in the middle of staring at a page of notes, handwriting cramped to fit as much information as possible, when he hears the telltale noise of someone approaching the door. Instinctively he freezes, listening. ]

Comments

[squint]

[ Even though she's gone--truly now, or so he hopes--Paris still reminds him of her. He can't help it, it's more than just college days. The fact that he's in a different time doesn't quite seem to register.

After all, Cobb's spent quite a large amount of time slowly descending into madness. How does possibly picturing his wife in the Parisian streets make him any less sane than he already is?

It's a strange sensation; hand gripping totem in your trouser pockets, waiting for some beautiful brunette to turn a corner. But she doesn't, and instead he's lucky enough to pass to Arthur's coordinates without a single interruption. He knocks with a purpose: two long, two short, one long.

Arthur will know it's him regardless, but old habits die hard. Once the door is opened, Cobb actually manages a smile. Even if it's a tired one. ]

Am I glad to see you. [ There's genuine warmth in his words. ]

[pointedlook]

[ He tries not to think too much about the significance of Paris, despite what he'd been doing when he was in this city last.

(Drawing up blueprints, formulating how to crack into Fischer's mind, how not to get them all killed, how to get Cobb home to his kids.)

Old habits certainly die hard, because he's letting out a relieved breath when he hears the knocked pattern on the door. Their personal code, for when things are all clear. A friendly visit. Arthur gets up from the small desk and opens the door, stepping aside to let Cobb in. His friend looks tired– not that it's a surprise. He can't remember the last time he saw Dom looking well rested. ]

Hey. Gotta say I feel the same. [ Arthur crooks a smile at him, just a flash of one. The door shuts and he takes a seat in the truly uncomfortable chair he'd recently vacated. ] How'd you get into this mess?