[open] winded through monotone

[falsify]

1 // Late August // Ye Olde Sainsbury's (Canary Wharf/Tower Hamlets)

There's literally no other way to describe how Eames looks right now other than the words 'vacuum sealed skeleton'. It's just a Bad Look, and for a man with his degree of vanity it's pretty much the worst thing that could ever happen.

He does still need to eat though, and Eames refuses to hole himself up in his flat and have people deliver to him because pride is a frustratingly unhelpful vice.

Thankfully though, Eames looks sufficiently little like himself at this point that he's not worried about being recognised. He's kind of trying to own this 'walking corpse' look, even if none of his clothes fit and this cap feels dumb and people are giving him weird looks while he looks at the booze section. Like a man who has no business still being alive can't enjoy a drink. What a bunch of pricks.

2 // 5 September // Tate Britain (Southwark)

When you're used to a degree of fluidity with your presentation, being stuck looking one way with no control over what's happening to your body while it ages rapidly is suffocating. As much as he missed his face looking how it should, it's been something hellish not being able to change even the slightest of his features.

As much as he'd like to be doing something fun, however, business calls. Which makes it Alice's night.

There's a gallery showing in the Tate — a history of 19th century Communist art — and as a fence by any other name, Alice is responsible for securing a significant amount of the paintings on display. Aside from a tidy sum of money, she also has a VIP ticket for the opening night, so she turns up- suit on and magic suppressed.

Most often, she'll be found with the man in charge of this, being introduced to friends and anyone with enough money to be an 'associate' of his, but she spends a lot of time on her own looking at the displays too. Inspecting the paintings with an appreciating eye and a glass of wine that never seems to leave her hand.

3 // 1-7 September // The New House (Camden)

Thanks to an Asshole Who Will Go Unnamed, Eames has had to put some plans back significantly, and had to endure a lot of things he'd rather not do again ever in his lifetime.

He's back to himself and back on track now though, with a new house and everything. And a dog! A quiet and cautious rotteweiler he's put off on bringing home since he didn't exactly want to deal with what was happening to him and training a pet at the same time. Decorating and dealing with a pet, however, has been surprisingly easy. Especially now he's progressed to the upstairs. It does make everything take a little longer, but it's a worthy sacrifice.

Anyone with cause to visit his new place can be treated to this, and more! More being: Eames in a tanktop and tracksuit bottoms with paint splatters all over, beer, and being stared at by a dog trying to decide how to feel.

4 // Wildcard

PM, hit me up at FiremanSam, or just tag me. Let's party.

Comments

[specifiercity]

Arthur drinks again, looking around the room at Eames' decorating job. It's nice - he has surprisingly good taste for someone who dresses the way he does, but Arthur's not going to just go about complimenting him. He follows another train of thought instead.

"Have you had any trouble from anyone in the area? They can't be used to having a fae for a neighbour."

[falsify]

"I don't think they know." It's not like he just goes about showing off his magic, after all. Even with his anonymity slipping away, Eames does what he can to maintain what he has left of it. And besides all that, your average person has no idea about this whole world around them.

Eames shrugs a shoulder, gesturing with the glass, "it's not as if I went door-to-door announcing myself and granting wishes."

[specifiercity]

Arthur nods thoughtfully before he goes on. "It's funny to think the Lord of Autumn has moved in to Night Council territories and none of the witches are even aware."

He gives Eames a look as if to say yes, I know about that, before he leans forward to put his glass back down on the table. It's almost time for a refill.

[falsify]

Ugh, of course Arthur knows. Eames snorts and shakes his head, "here's hoping it stays that way, mm?"

[specifiercity]

"Mm," Arthur says in vague agreement, as he pours himself another bit of scotch. Might as well get a bit of a buzz on while he's here, right?

[falsify]

Well, Eames enjoys his drink quietly, ocassionally looking down at Boxer's head in his lap and giving him some light pets while he snoozes. After a while though, it becomes obvious this is actual sleep and not just a little chilling out, so he sighs and wakes Boxer up gently.

"Time for bed," he says, and it's clearly a command rather than a gentle suggestion, one that Boxer responds to after a moment of staring at Eames by getting up and slowly padding into the kitchen.

Welcome to this weird look into domesticity with Eames, Arthur.

[specifiercity]

Arthur watches all this happen in silent interest, and he's impressed when Boxer walks away without any argument whatsoever. But that means they're alone now and he has to face the fact that he came over here probably just to have sex. It's not like he has anything to talk about other than a laundry list of politics Eames probably doesn't want to provide any information on, so as soon as Boxer's gone Arthur raises an eyebrow at Eames, wondering if they're going to bother with any more small talk.

[falsify]

Eames stands with a sigh, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders a little and listening out for any trouble with the dog before he turns to reach for the bottle on the table.

He glances at Arthur, raising an eyebrow before he decides to just casually plant himself in Arthur's lap, straddling him while he casually refills his glass.

"So. You come over just to see the place, or...?"

[specifiercity]

Arthur holds up his drink to avoid Eames spilling it with his whole getting-into-Arthur's-lap situation. He makes Eames wait for the answer while he takes another sip of his drink and sighs.

"Mm, I didn't really have my heart set on anything other than seeing your interior decorating when I came over."

Nah he was definitely thinking about sex.

[falsify]

Eames leans back to put the bottle on the table and takes a sip of his own drink while he waits for Arthur's answer, making a soft, thoughtful noise in response.

"Mm, well. I think you'll like what I've done with the bedroom."

[specifiercity]

Arthur raises his eyebrows again as if Eames is proposing something very interesting, even though he would have used the exact same line if the opportunity had presented itself. He gestures with his drink without taking his eyes off Eames before he says, "after you."

[falsify]

But he just sat down, Eames was kind of hoping to stay put for a little longer. He tilts his head a little, looking at Arthur's face and-- well. Mostly his lips. And he carefully gets back off his lap, turning to lead the way up the stairs and into the blackness where adult people do adult things that bystanders can't know about.