[The idea of it is interesting, to be sure. Because Gerard also has a love for knowing things even when he knows he's going to regret the answer. He nods.]
I don't need a full fucking statement, just - I want to be able to know right away if you ran into anything I'm familiar with that's going to come back for you, and I want something binding that says they can't force you keep quiet on that.
[Think of it like the spooky version of Eames demanding to take control of Gerard's punishments, alright.]
What's the way to tell you this without speaking aloud? You psychic and holding out on me?
[ Eames nods and pens it down to the list. ] Alright. I'll try to word in a way that lets me keep some secrets from you. [ He teases with a playful little glance at Gerard.
He lets the question sit for a while as he finishes writing, and then looks up with a small, hideously enigmatic smile. ]
No, I'm not a spychic. Just very good at reading people. However, there is a way we can enter a dream together. And in a dream five minutes becomes an hour while our subconscious minds communicate.
[ He puts the paper away and takes a sip of his tea. ]
[Gerard rolls his eyes - he's got no doubts Eames will find a way to keep secrets even if he was ordered to tell only the truth. He's slippery that way. The dream sharing does perk Gerard's interest, though. A knee-jerk thought is to shut it down quickly and definitively. Gerard has nightmares, and he is rarely alone in them.
Maybe, though, it won't follow him if Eames is around. Maybe it won't know how to.
Maybe Gerard is just too fucking curious for his own good.]
Eames gestures towards the sandwiches as he stands up. ]
Finish those. I'll get us set up.
[ There's absolutely no point in pulling out the PASIV and having a little bit of a dip in it. Eames likes the infinite possibilities that dream space brings. ]
[Gerard is still concerned about what Eames will see in there, in Gerard... but isn't that better to happen now, before he signs a contract and ties himself to Gerard for at minimum 90 days? Steeled by that thought, that this will be the last chance for Eames to back out for his own good, Gerard makes short work of the sandwiches and the tea that's left, stomach no longer growling.
... might not be a bad thing to move in with Eames, really. As is, he's dangerously close to becoming horny and hungry just at the sight of the man. Stupid Pavlovian responses. Since Eames is busy setting his machine up, Gerard takes his dishes to the sink to wash so there's no mess left behind for Eames to deal with. Seems especially important Gerard is going to risk scaring the man.]
[ Eames sets them up in the living room, drags one of the arm chairs closer to the couch and sets it in a place where he can reach the PASIV without dropping to the floor when he goes under.
He sets the clock at ten minutes. Because five is very much too little with a person's first time in a dream. Then he gestures Gerard to join him. ]
Thank you for doing the dishes, [ he says with a small, fond smile and pats the couch. ] Lay down and try to find a good position. I need your wrist open, so you'll have to pull some of that back... [ His fingers find Gerard's forearm and slide down along it, teasing at the bottom of his sleeve with a few fingertips. ]
[He took his shoes off when he came in even if I forgot to write it so he strips off his overcoat next, rolling up the sleeve of his arm that will be on the outside of the couch for easy access for Eames. He isn't sure where the ideal entry point is so he just makes sure the loose sleeve is secured above his elbow, given that thanks to the scar tissue it's easiest to find a vein on his wrist or the inside of his elbow where the tattoos have left a halo of clean skin around themselves.
He still doesn't like showing skin, but he's getting used to it around Eames. Easy enough to find a comfy position on the couch. He's had a fickle relationship with sleep - like food - but getting comfortable was never the problem.]
[ Eames waits for him to settle down before sitting on the sofa table and draws a tube from the PASIV. He spends a moment just looking for the vein, turning Gerard's wrist around until he decides on the one on the inside instead of the back of his hand. Inserting it is a quick and efficient affair, it doesn't take more than a few seconds before he's taping the needle down and lets his fingers trail down to Gerard's palm and from there to his fingers, squeezing them for a moment gently. ]
You will know. Don't worry about it. I'll show you the ropes when we get there.
[ He leaves Gerard on his perch on the couch and finds a comfortable position in his chair. The needle goes into his vein without a fuss, he could do this without looking even. ]
See you on the other side, [ he says mildly as he reaches over to push the button. ]
---
They're in London. It's summer and sun is high on the sky. They're standing in line for for the London Eye and Eames hands their tickets at the front to the smiling gate keeper and opens the door to the capsule for him. They're going to be alone, what a treat...
"Did you say you've never been up there?" Eames asks mildly as he guides Gerard in. "I suppose this could be a dream come true. Or maybe just a dream that feels so real you'd think it's actually... real."
Saying Gerard lived in London his whole life was one of those "true but misleading" statements. It was the only place that his passport ever had as a residence, that was true. But his passport showed that he spent considerably less time there than, well, everywhere else for most of his life. How did one of the nurses put it, that he overheard? 'Very well traveled'. That said, in spite of always living there, he truly had never been to the Eye before.
In general, Gerard didn't have much time for things like ferris wheels.
"They're also called Observation Wheels," Gerard says mildly, going in when Eames directs him to, looking around the fully enclosed capsule. All alone in theirs, it'd be the perfect time to get a little frisky, under other circumstances.
"This is a dream," He says to Eames while he looks out the window, matter-of-fact, no disorientation or confusion to the statement.
"Yes," Eames replies warmly as he takes a seat and crosses his legs as he brings up a cigarette and lights it. He's conscious how much he smokes in real world but in dreams he can do it as much as he wants without any health issues.
"This is a dream. Your dream in fact. I'm the architect of it currently but you populate it with your subconscious. There are certain rules about how dreams work, love. But here you can do almost anything you like."
Almost. If you can brunt the consequences.
The pod climbs high above London with speed that doesn't correlate to how fast it feels. Soon there's a magnificent view opening below them.
"The key is to loosen up your imagination and know you can do something."
Gerard is very familiar with dreams. Nightmares, really. But there's certain things that are tells for him, that have always been tells to let him know. He takes out a cigarette to light his own - it wasn't cigarettes that killed him, after all.
"Mmm? Like what?" he asks, trying to distract himself from the watched feeling that's amplified a hundred fold since they got here. He can't see the Watcher in the sky yet but he knows it's there, or it wants to be and something about Eames being here is holding it back for now.
He just hopes it won't freak Eames out too badly when it opens.
On his hands, all the eye tattoos are still tattoos, thin delicate lines, small enough to be masterwork with how fine and detailed they are.
It's not the strangest thing Eames has seen, those tattoos. But it is rather fascinating, so he stares at them, playing a little game with himself while trying to figure out which one of them will blink next.
"Rules?" Eames asks. "Well, those are for people who start to mess with the dream itself. As long as you're just a spectator, you're fine like this, spectating."
He takes a long drag from his cigarette and slowly detaches the pod from the machine, making it float over the city.
"But when you start to mess with the reality of the dream, when things in the dream start to bother the dreamer, his subconscious, his innate idea of reality and how it works, things start to get hairy."
It's - well, magical. Seeing the city from above like this. He brings a hand out to press against the window as he looks down, and in the process his sleeve slips down a bit to show no scar tissue now. Gerard doesn't seem to have noticed it.
He's distracted, first by the delight of it, then by the pull in his gut, the sensation of being watched and before he even looks up instead of down, he knows what he'll see.
"Don't be afraid," he whispers to Eames. Above them, the eye opens, taking up the whole of the sky.
Okay, this has never happened before. Not with someone who isn't trained to shift the dream and design it to their will. The fact that Eames noticed no scarring is forgotten the moment that giant eye opens above them.
"What is that?" he asks tensely, his jaw tight and expression unreadable. Yes, he's a little scared.
"Is that common in your world? Eyes opening on the sky?"
Gerard isn't doing it. At least, he doesn't think he is, any more than bait in the water causes a shark attack.
The eye watches back, unblinking.
"The Ceaseless Watcher," Gerard says, because its here because if him, so he will have its focus anyway. His hand is still pressed against the window, still looking up as the colorless eye looks back down. Aside from the tension in his body, he gives no other sign of being afraid, himself.
"I've been marked by it since as long as I can remember. I get some protection from it-" the tattoos keeping back some of the burns "- but it isn't out of a sense of benevolence. It's because they're territorial. Common in the world? No. Common in my dreams? Almost every night."
"... you might need to be," Gerard says apologetically, finally turning away from the window to look up to Eames. "All it does is... watch. It's here for me, but it might be aware of you now."
Like Gerard says, it's not interested in hurting you- just giving you enough rope for you to hang yourself, and sitting back and watching the whole thing.
"But it... doesn't get involved, right?" Eames still stares at the eye, he briefly glances down at Gerard, his arm sliding over that narrow shoulder almost protectively.
"I suppose..." he starts, pausing for a moment before he finally pulls his gaze away and properly looks down at Gerard, going for a cheeky smile which doesn't feel all genuine but it's a good attempt. "We'll just ignore it for now."
Gerard grabs at Eames' jacket, tugging at him lightly, indicating wordlessly he wants Eames next to him. It puts himself between Eames and the main window, too.
"Can you tint the upper parts of the windows? Like how you unhooked the capsle." Gerard asked. It won't make the eye go away, it won't hide them, but it will at least make it easier to not see it.
Eames lets him tug him as he likes, he's not opposed to it at all. He peers at the thing up in the sky again before focusing on Gerard.
"How about we do something else, hmm?" he says and the next time he looks down, the floor has turned into glass. There's a brief but magnificent view of London down below them before the pod lands on a rooftop and Eames takes Gerard's hand to lead him out and onto the rooftop. Not for long though, he aims for the door that hypothetically leads to the building below.
"This way, love," he says and refuses to glance up at the sky and that massive, bloody creepy eye just hanging there.
What opens up behind the door is not the building, though, but it leads to a small cave like tunnel and then opens up to something that looks like the reed flute cave.
He can still feel the Watcher's gaze upon him, but it's always been there, waiting in the periphery. Once he doesn't have to see it, it's easy enough to ignore.
Gerard doesn't even try to hide his amazement at the sight through the door and down the tunnel, open-mouthed and staring.
"It's beautiful," he says, too scared to touch anything lest he mess it up.
The sight of the eye is enough to make Eames relax. He knows it's there, he feels it there, but he can't see it. That makes it somewhat better. For now.
He snorts softly at Gerard's wonder of the cave and leans against a wall.
"You can take a swim in the lake, it's cold but very pleasant."
And deep enough because Eames wants it so.
"But while you do that," he says and nudges Gerard's fingers that are still stuck between his own. "Tell me more about the eye. Or anything related. What does it want? What do any of them want?"
"Fear," Gerard answers that one easily, "They - are fears. It isn't a coincidence with what they represent. The Eye, the fear of being watched, judged. Dark, self explanatory there. The Slaughter, pure violence, as impersonal as a bullet fired into a crowded street. The Spiral, It Is Not What It Is, the fear that your perception of reality is lying to you, that you're going mad... they don't feed off of it, not really, they just are it. And like making more of it, if they can be thought to he intentionally doing anything."
Gerard had heard the theory that they're not even really aware of humanity, that all this is completely incidental. That is, somehow, more frightening.
Eames falls silent to think about it. He plays with Gerard's fingers while he stares at the still water surrounded by beautiful limestone pillars and formations.
"It sounds sort of Lovecraftian in its maddening scale of incomprehensible creatures," he says finally.
"How do you endure that eye? All the time? Why does like you in particular?"
"It fits my disposition, I suppose," Gerard replies, giving Eames' fingers a squeeze before letting go. He begins shedding clothing while he speaks, then. Eames said they could swim, so damn it, he's going to. He never could in a place like this in real life - enough run-ins with the leavings of the Dark, the Buried, the Lonely to ever want to try cave diving.
"Overwhelming curiosity, a horrible need to know, even being fully aware you will regret having that knowledge. At least, that's what I figure," he says, crouching down to take off his boots.
He has a small birthmark on his stomach, an almost heart-shaped smear of tan just above his navel. It's completely covered up by scar tissue in reality, but here, in the dream, the only marks his skin has are the tattoos and piercings, the marks he chose.
"As for how I endure it - I dunno. I never really had a choice not to. It's deal with it or give up and die."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I don't need a full fucking statement, just - I want to be able to know right away if you ran into anything I'm familiar with that's going to come back for you, and I want something binding that says they can't force you keep quiet on that.
[Think of it like the spooky version of Eames demanding to take control of Gerard's punishments, alright.]
What's the way to tell you this without speaking aloud? You psychic and holding out on me?
no subject
He lets the question sit for a while as he finishes writing, and then looks up with a small, hideously enigmatic smile. ]
No, I'm not a spychic. Just very good at reading people. However, there is a way we can enter a dream together. And in a dream five minutes becomes an hour while our subconscious minds communicate.
[ He puts the paper away and takes a sip of his tea. ]
Do you want to try it?
no subject
Maybe, though, it won't follow him if Eames is around. Maybe it won't know how to.
Maybe Gerard is just too fucking curious for his own good.]
... yeah. Can we?
no subject
Eames gestures towards the sandwiches as he stands up. ]
Finish those. I'll get us set up.
[ There's absolutely no point in pulling out the PASIV and having a little bit of a dip in it. Eames likes the infinite possibilities that dream space brings. ]
no subject
... might not be a bad thing to move in with Eames, really. As is, he's dangerously close to becoming horny and hungry just at the sight of the man. Stupid Pavlovian responses. Since Eames is busy setting his machine up, Gerard takes his dishes to the sink to wash so there's no mess left behind for Eames to deal with. Seems especially important Gerard is going to risk scaring the man.]
no subject
He sets the clock at ten minutes. Because five is very much too little with a person's first time in a dream. Then he gestures Gerard to join him. ]
Thank you for doing the dishes, [ he says with a small, fond smile and pats the couch. ] Lay down and try to find a good position. I need your wrist open, so you'll have to pull some of that back... [ His fingers find Gerard's forearm and slide down along it, teasing at the bottom of his sleeve with a few fingertips. ]
no subject
even if I forgot to write itso he strips off his overcoat next, rolling up the sleeve of his arm that will be on the outside of the couch for easy access for Eames. He isn't sure where the ideal entry point is so he just makes sure the loose sleeve is secured above his elbow, given that thanks to the scar tissue it's easiest to find a vein on his wrist or the inside of his elbow where the tattoos have left a halo of clean skin around themselves.He still doesn't like showing skin, but he's getting used to it around Eames. Easy enough to find a comfy position on the couch. He's had a fickle relationship with sleep - like food - but getting comfortable was never the problem.]
How will I know it's working?
no subject
You will know. Don't worry about it. I'll show you the ropes when we get there.
[ He leaves Gerard on his perch on the couch and finds a comfortable position in his chair. The needle goes into his vein without a fuss, he could do this without looking even. ]
See you on the other side, [ he says mildly as he reaches over to push the button. ]
---
They're in London. It's summer and sun is high on the sky. They're standing in line for for the London Eye and Eames hands their tickets at the front to the smiling gate keeper and opens the door to the capsule for him. They're going to be alone, what a treat...
"Did you say you've never been up there?" Eames asks mildly as he guides Gerard in. "I suppose this could be a dream come true. Or maybe just a dream that feels so real you'd think it's actually... real."
no subject
In general, Gerard didn't have much time for things like ferris wheels.
"They're also called Observation Wheels," Gerard says mildly, going in when Eames directs him to, looking around the fully enclosed capsule. All alone in theirs, it'd be the perfect time to get a little frisky, under other circumstances.
"This is a dream," He says to Eames while he looks out the window, matter-of-fact, no disorientation or confusion to the statement.
no subject
"This is a dream. Your dream in fact. I'm the architect of it currently but you populate it with your subconscious. There are certain rules about how dreams work, love. But here you can do almost anything you like."
Almost. If you can brunt the consequences.
The pod climbs high above London with speed that doesn't correlate to how fast it feels. Soon there's a magnificent view opening below them.
"The key is to loosen up your imagination and know you can do something."
no subject
"Mmm? Like what?" he asks, trying to distract himself from the watched feeling that's amplified a hundred fold since they got here. He can't see the Watcher in the sky yet but he knows it's there, or it wants to be and something about Eames being here is holding it back for now.
He just hopes it won't freak Eames out too badly when it opens.
On his hands, all the eye tattoos are still tattoos, thin delicate lines, small enough to be masterwork with how fine and detailed they are.
Out of sync with one another, they blink, slowly.
no subject
"Rules?" Eames asks. "Well, those are for people who start to mess with the dream itself. As long as you're just a spectator, you're fine like this, spectating."
He takes a long drag from his cigarette and slowly detaches the pod from the machine, making it float over the city.
"But when you start to mess with the reality of the dream, when things in the dream start to bother the dreamer, his subconscious, his innate idea of reality and how it works, things start to get hairy."
no subject
He's distracted, first by the delight of it, then by the pull in his gut, the sensation of being watched and before he even looks up instead of down, he knows what he'll see.
"Don't be afraid," he whispers to Eames. Above them, the eye opens, taking up the whole of the sky.
no subject
"What is that?" he asks tensely, his jaw tight and expression unreadable. Yes, he's a little scared.
"Is that common in your world? Eyes opening on the sky?"
no subject
The eye watches back, unblinking.
"The Ceaseless Watcher," Gerard says, because its here because if him, so he will have its focus anyway. His hand is still pressed against the window, still looking up as the colorless eye looks back down. Aside from the tension in his body, he gives no other sign of being afraid, himself.
"I've been marked by it since as long as I can remember. I get some protection from it-" the tattoos keeping back some of the burns "- but it isn't out of a sense of benevolence. It's because they're territorial. Common in the world? No. Common in my dreams? Almost every night."
no subject
"It's a little creepy, love," he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "Is this what you talked about it looking into you when you look into it?"
Whatever it is, that giant eye, it gives Eames so many creeps he doesn't even know how to count them.
And they still have two hours in the clock. So, there's no out from the dream without... well. Things he'd rather not introduce to Gerard.
"Should we be worried?"
no subject
Like Gerard says, it's not interested in hurting you- just giving you enough rope for you to hang yourself, and sitting back and watching the whole thing.
no subject
"I suppose..." he starts, pausing for a moment before he finally pulls his gaze away and properly looks down at Gerard, going for a cheeky smile which doesn't feel all genuine but it's a good attempt. "We'll just ignore it for now."
no subject
"Can you tint the upper parts of the windows? Like how you unhooked the capsle." Gerard asked. It won't make the eye go away, it won't hide them, but it will at least make it easier to not see it.
no subject
"How about we do something else, hmm?" he says and the next time he looks down, the floor has turned into glass. There's a brief but magnificent view of London down below them before the pod lands on a rooftop and Eames takes Gerard's hand to lead him out and onto the rooftop. Not for long though, he aims for the door that hypothetically leads to the building below.
"This way, love," he says and refuses to glance up at the sky and that massive, bloody creepy eye just hanging there.
What opens up behind the door is not the building, though, but it leads to a small cave like tunnel and then opens up to something that looks like the reed flute cave.
no subject
Gerard doesn't even try to hide his amazement at the sight through the door and down the tunnel, open-mouthed and staring.
"It's beautiful," he says, too scared to touch anything lest he mess it up.
no subject
He snorts softly at Gerard's wonder of the cave and leans against a wall.
"You can take a swim in the lake, it's cold but very pleasant."
And deep enough because Eames wants it so.
"But while you do that," he says and nudges Gerard's fingers that are still stuck between his own. "Tell me more about the eye. Or anything related. What does it want? What do any of them want?"
no subject
Gerard had heard the theory that they're not even really aware of humanity, that all this is completely incidental. That is, somehow, more frightening.
no subject
"It sounds sort of Lovecraftian in its maddening scale of incomprehensible creatures," he says finally.
"How do you endure that eye? All the time? Why does like you in particular?"
no subject
"Overwhelming curiosity, a horrible need to know, even being fully aware you will regret having that knowledge. At least, that's what I figure," he says, crouching down to take off his boots.
He has a small birthmark on his stomach, an almost heart-shaped smear of tan just above his navel. It's completely covered up by scar tissue in reality, but here, in the dream, the only marks his skin has are the tattoos and piercings, the marks he chose.
"As for how I endure it - I dunno. I never really had a choice not to. It's deal with it or give up and die."
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