casuistic: (Default)
Eames ([personal profile] casuistic) wrote2029-03-11 04:24 pm

Inbox;



What did the bee say to the flower?

[ ooc: Duplo ppl, please mark the game in the top of the thread to avoid confusion. Thank you! ]
oldhound: (again.)

action.

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-08-01 10:30 am (UTC)(link)
i'm sure. take a bigger bastard than whoever runs this sorry show to keep me down for long.

[ Which is why he's upright. Though it's mostly stubborn will alone keeping him that way, blanket in hand as he uses the time courier he'd gotten back on his wrist to open a portal to Eames' flat.

He manages to stumble the step or two through it and to the couch, settling down in a heap with the blanket still clutched in hand. He still manages a shaky grin. ]


Abracafuckingdabra.
oldhound: (i'm disappearing out of reach)

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-08-01 06:21 pm (UTC)(link)
If he had more of a head to think about it, John would've warned the bloke first. As it stands, he can't really be bothered with how he's feeling. He waves him down when he notices his standing. That just looks exhausting.

"Not magic, actually," he mumbles but still tries to grin a little. It falls a bit short. He taps at his wrist at the band there. He's only got a soft, thin robe on from where he managed to get out of his other clothes earlier. "Called a Time Courier. Doesn't do much but make fancy doorways at the moment but still nifty."

The idea of getting settled on something soft again sounds far too enticing and once Eames motions him down he's, sure enough, crawling over to lay chest to chest with him. He drags his own blanket into the mix, feeling very much like a child in the moment. He hasn't felt so miserable to do something like this for about as many years, he supposes.

"This resurrection business is about as bloody awful as I thought it'd be."
oldhound: (but i'm the one who locked me in)

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-08-07 07:11 am (UTC)(link)
Can't fault him for the waning interest, all things considered. Once they're both a little more coherent and less ready to keel over again.

It's easy enough to settle in against Eames, shivering a little as he gets back the warmth he lost in getting here. This is absolutely rotten. He's going to have words with whoever is in charge here one day, mark him.

He slides his arms up, one hand to press against Eames' chest and the other that nudges up under an arm to splay against his ribs. Once he's stopped moving, it's a little easier to focus on just answering the questions. It's nice, this, especially with the last few days in mind.

"Kid I've been trying to help had somebody after him gone mad with all this despair business," he mutters. "Used a glamour to buy some time, get him out, but I couldn't talk the other person down." Beat. "Stabbed me."
oldhound: (you sent it my way)

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-08-11 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
That is an eventuality that they don't have to entertain just yet. They have each other. Even with the misery they're both contending with, at least the shivering is starting to subside for now.

He'd be interested to know what Eames was thinking if he wasn't so addled. Could be on to something.

"Not my first time bleeding out. Managed to stop that one." That was way back though. One of the first jobs he ran with Zed in tow. "Don't think it was that long, felt like bloody ages." Unfortunately, there was a bit of suffering between the injury and the end. He groans. "Don't you start."

Punctuated by a gentle jab at the other man's ribs.
oldhound: (lost and it kills)

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-08-21 09:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"Shut it." Muttered affectionately though. His focus wanders to the television moment before Eames' voice draws him back.

"Sounds like a bloody awful line of work if it happens so often." Even if that's from the outside looking in. He wonders, briefly, what Ritchie would have to say about it. In the dreams he's travelled through, if you die there, you die in the real world. "Doesn't work that way in my world. Least not that I've seen.

Tell me about it?" If he's up for it. Maybe John just wants to hear the other man's voice.
oldhound: (Default)

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-08-28 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
What's the old saying? Hope for the best but prepare for the worst? He'll live through it at any rate if Eames doesn't let it go.

When he starts explaining it all, he's sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ritchie would love it. Well, minus the killing portion. Or the dying bit. The idea that one could wander in and out of someone else's dreams in that way? John reckons it's a way better high than astral projection or a shared acid trip.

His face twists up at the mention of what they used it for. Course they went that route. Makes sense in a bollocksed up sort of way. "Don't imagine it does. Sounds like a rotten deal." He hums. "What do you do with it. The dreamshare?"

He lets his hand trail along Eames' side, slow and gentle.
oldhound: (i'm underwater but i feel like)

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-09-04 09:06 pm (UTC)(link)
"Was it? Would've figured you for a man of action type," he murmurs, continuing the gentle run of his hands along Eames' sides. "But that sounds like a rough deal for anybody. Can't blame you for skipping out on it."

There's a chuckle at the sarcastic bit about wishing being back and a tired grin. Arching at the nails through his shirt, it earns a soft groan, feeling himself relax a bit more after.

"Sure sounds like it," John huffs with amusement. Though he has suspicions as to how the private sector might've gotten something like that. But maybe that scrutiny is better saved for another day. "Mmm, let me guess. All that unbridled access twisted up by the idea of just how far it can be pushed? What one might be able to find buried in someone's mind?"

He's tiptoed through the minds of people in other ways. The allure is always the same.
oldhound: (someone else's atrocious story)

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-09-12 04:51 pm (UTC)(link)
That response earns another huff of laughter and the squeeze earns a mild swat from where his hand is at his side. Neither of them are in any form for it this time than they were last time as well. Bloody hell, so much for a break ever. "The way you carry yourself, mate."

He shifts the hand on his side up, bringing it up between them and massaging Eames' temple when his eyes close.

"Seems like you'd make a lot of enemies with a gig like that," just an idle comment, really.
oldhound: (in my head)

[personal profile] oldhound 2020-09-18 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
The way the cough wracks the other man's frame causes him to wince in sympathy. Despite the aches and pains of it all, he doesn't try to shift away when he's held onto, just smooths his hand over his back carefully, waiting until he's got himself sorted.

"Suppose that's the whole saying when one door closes and all," he murmurs. He looks up at him. "Let's get some water in you after that." Not that he wants to move but he's pretty sure if Eames tries to reach past him they'll both wind up on the floor in a ridiculous heap. He'd rather avoid it.