Oh.

Eames' reaction is perhaps a little less than someone might imagine when it comes to suddenly being thrust into the scene of a massacre. He inhales sharply, pulling away from the back of the seat, and he looks at the man sat against the wall.

"I've been told that a few times," he raises an eyebrow, tone light like they're not totally in the bloody ghost massacre compartment of this train, "is this your doing?"