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stillness-in-green · 3 years

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MVA In Memoriam (3/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party)

Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade

Chapter 229 – All It Takes Is One Bad Day

• The full first page, of Jin getting mobbed by Puppet!Jins, them tearing his mask off, and flinging it and then him away. Saved them a bit of budget, I suppose, but it’s a shame to lose the drama and the violence of Twice having his mask pulled away, since it’s decent foreshadowing (indeed, possibly intentionally so, on Skeptic’s part) for the violent bewilderment he’ll be subject to shortly.

• Re-Destro’s line, “Not when he’s using his meta-ability to puppeteer, unless you want another nagging lecture.” They didn’t keep the first nagging lecture, so of course they wouldn’t keep this. I’m still annoyed, both on general principle and at the loss of RD’s implication that these nagging lectures are a regular occurrence, especially if one tries to bother Skeptic when he’s using his meta-ability. Has RD himself been on the receiving end of one? Possibly so! But you’d be less likely to think so just from the anime.

• Re-Destro’s line, “This allowed our warriors to momentarily hold back and stay out of danger.” Because why would the audience need to know that Skeptic planned for and Re-Destro cares enough to observe something like that lol?? Obviously the MLA is perfectly content to just throw their peoples’ lives away because, whatever, more where that came from! Dammit, anime, the fandom believes this enough as it is without confirmation bias from your cuts!

• Skeptic’s “fufufu” laugh, because the anime is allergic to the MLA having fun.

• The police officer’s line, “Sure, but in a case like this, you’re still to blame.” The rest of the exchange hints at it, of course, but there’s a horrifying callousness to a police officer just saying straight to the face of a teenaged orphan facing his first offense, “Yes, you were obeying the law perfectly and this guy just ran out in front of you, but it’s going on your criminal record anyway, whatever.” A weight the anime lost, and another that makes me very suspicious of the patterns behind what, precisely, was put on the chopping block.[1]

• Jin’s narration, “That police officer couldn’t have known. Me neither.” Demonstrates that Jin doesn’t really hold his fall against the one policeman. It’s a consistent thread with Jin’s character that, while he’s very jaded, he’s not actually vengeful, nor is he looking to enact systemic change. While he’s very defensive of his friends, people who hurt Jin himself are never in any real danger of him coming to collect his pound of flesh in return; he just rolls with it as part of how the world works, in the way of someone who was never given reason to believe any different. This line is a good example of that.

• From Jin’s old employer’s angry rant, deletes the note that the client that called is angry, and that the client said, “That young punk of yours did this!” It’s nothing that wasn’t obvious from the rest of the conversation, but I do I think cutting it loses a sense that this guy is just unloading all of his frustration and fear on Jin. The length of the screed, the extra details—it clearly communicates that Jin’s boss is so angry and upset he’s not paying any real mind to filtering, but just recounting every point of contention the moment they come into his mind.

• In modern society, when you’re someone without roots… Well, not a lot of people can relate to that.” It isn’t just the police that failed Jin; it’s a whole society that’s distrustful of people who don’t have a place in the fabric, and thus are unwilling to try and bring them into it. Like Tenko, there are a thousand little places where someone could have reached out a hand, but no one ever did. The audience can intuit this, but I feel it’s better to be clear about it—it’s not just the legal system that screwed Jin over; it’s every other person that never tried to help him because they were afraid of his eyes or distrusted a guy who had no connections. When Shigaraki comes, he’s not going to be coming for heroes alone; he’ll be coming for this entire tapestry of indifference and timidity.

• Skeptic’s lines, “Hrm? Fighting back? I was sure he’d either flee or cower in place... We didn’t anticipate such unity between them.” This gets at two things. Firstly, and once again, that the MLA did their research; that they came into this with educated expectations and a definite plan. Secondly, an in-character observation of what the arc has been showing the audience all along: that the League isn’t just a disparate gang of hoodlums anymore; that they’re developing real bonds. Those bonds mark them as unusual—Re-Destro comments on it in 223, as did Overhaul in 147; even Mr. Compress remarks disapprovingly on Twice’s “habit” of getting overly attached to people. It’s striking that, even though the MLA knew from Giran’s records that the League was uncommonly well-bonded, Twice’s devotion still fell outside Skeptic’s parameters.[2]

• Again Skeptic’s line, “Now his legs.” The drones don’t actually get this far (though you can see them gearing up for it on the next page), so it’s a reasonable enough cut, but it does emphasize the ludicrous, over-the-top extremes Skeptic in particular is willing to go to in securing what he wants. If, you know, “Kidnap the doubler so we have a method to make copies of the Grand Commander at our leisure,” wasn’t bonkers enough.

• Twice’s line, “Even against Gigantomachia!” It really highlights just how much mental energy Twice has been dedicating to avoiding injury, that he was able to keep it in mind even fighting a foe as overwhelming, and for as extended a period, as Machia. And like, the anime blitzed over the Machia fight so quickly, and with so little visible wear and tear to the League, that it really could have used all the reminders it could find room for about how intense those six weeks were.

• Twice’s line, “I won’t watch a friend die!” Such an important line that the composer named an entire track for it, not that the anime gave us that track in the moment it was clearly scored for. They added in a new line later in the scene which mostly gets the important sentiments back in, but loses out in being slightly less fitting to his breakthrough. See the Additions portion of the write-up on Chapter 230, following.

Framing Shifts

• The policeman in Jin’s flashback looked up at him in the anime, where in the manga, his eyes stay down on his paperwork the entire time. I realize that anime can’t just still-frame every panel of a manga and call it an adaptation,[3] so characters will do things like move and look around in different directions just in the course of inhabiting a room, Still, in this case, it has the effect of making the officer look more alert and engaged than he was in the manga, and given that this whole chunk of backstory is about Jin slipping through the social safety net, it feels appropriate to me that the officer should be completely checked out.

Additions

• A new shot of Jin(s) in his pre-massacre doppelganger army days. Didn’t tell us anything we don’t already know—it’s little more than a new angle of the gang in the truck—but it was nice to see.

Bonus Note

• They left Re-Destro’s phrase, “My company,” alone when he was talking about the micro-transceivers Skeptic was using. That’s accurate to the manga, but I’d like to remind everyone that, at that point in the anime, viewers whose only reference is the anime itself have no idea that Re-Destro is a businessman. The show skipped the commercial, RD’s intro, the dinner scene where his company comes up, and Giran’s association of RD with Detnerat; it will further go on to skip Shigaraki recognizing him from the commercial. The news report mentioning Detnerat was ten full episodes prior to Episode 110, and was followed up on in not the faintest degree. For heaven’s sake, would it have been so hard to have Hirata Hiroaki say, “My Detnerat’s,” instead of just, “My company’s”?

Chapter 230 – Sad Man’s Parade

• Deleted the MLA members that are attacking Compress as they get pushed off by the Twice wave. Not the first time, and not the last, that the anime didn’t animate the random MLA people on the street. It’s hard to take the threat of their numbers seriously when the anime kept deleting them from what are supposed to be crowd scenes, you know?

• Mr. C thinking worriedly about Dabi as he’s mulling over Geten’s strength and disregard for catching his own people in the collateral damage. It’s just a, “Dabi—!” but it’s yet another tiny cut that shaves away at the manga’s clear depiction of Leagues’ concern for one another—even Mr. Compress, who claims that such things aren’t very villainous.

Framing Shifts

• Changed the random MLA’s exhortation to kill all the Twices to a generic, “Damn—!” I know American censors have often taken issue with the words “Kill” and “Die” in kids’ cartoons, but I was never of the impression that that was the case in Japan. And it’s not like the show made any bones about Curious planning to kill Toga. A rephrase to save a second and a half on dialogue, maybe?

• Had Skeptic give his lines about failure on the way over to the elevator instead of stalking over in silence, and then dumping the whole monologue all at once. The manga’s extended silence over three identically sized panels is much funnier and more characterful. I grow ever more confident in my assessment of Skeptic as the second-most ill-treated MLA character in this adaptation.

• The return of the Doom Choirs for the Twice Parade. I really wish the anime would lay off slathering Doom Choirs all over everything, especially a moment like this: a triumph for Twice, and, true to form for Twice, also crammed to the gills with visual and verbal gags. The Doom Choir is out of keeping with both the victory and the comedy—Mine Woman, later on, served the Parade much better.

Additions

• Gave Twice a new line, “I will protect my comrades!” It was nice to make up for his, “I won’t watch a friend die!” but the latter is more characterful, especially since a more literal translation is, “I won’t kill my friends!” Which is, you know, relevant to the fact that Twice has problems telling himself apart from things that just look like him, and he just had to intervene to stop some of those look-alikes from killing one of said friends. At least it got his use of nakama back in.[4]

• A new little cut of animation as the action went back to Geten and Dabi. I suppose the Dabi fans liked it, and it was nice to see more of Geten’s ice dragon, but I’d have much preferred they could keep the scenes we already have before adding new ones.

Chapter 231 – Path

The scene of Hawks wondering why he hasn’t heard from Dabi and his subsequent flashback to the last time they spoke were relocated to the beginning of Episode 102, the first thing the audience saw after the prior episode ended with Shouto inviting Bakugou and Deku to come intern with him at Endeavor’s. In the manga, of course, it’s not “a few weeks ago in Kyushu,” it’s “meanwhile in Osaka.” Also, the order of the scenes was flipped—the episode led with the flashback, then returned to the modern day. It really makes the timeline needlessly confusing—the viewer has no real context for what we’re seeing and when, especially since the anime neglected to specify how much time passed between the two scenes. You have to assume it was enough time for an outcry to be raised over Jeanist’s disappearance, but the random shot of a bird flying over was not at all helpful there.

Alterations included (as usual, outright removed material is in bold text):

1. Cut Hawks’ thought, “That’s why you keep calling,” and his line, “What’s the job?” I know I should give a breakdown here about Hawks’ mentality and training, but I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to complain about any lines Takami Keigo loses. God knows the anime gives him plenty enough bonus material.

2. Spliced in the flashback scene of Hawks reporting to the Commission from Chapter 243, but subtly changed it to suggest that it took place after the phonecall in which Dabi demanded Hawks kill a non-Endeavor top hero, rather than it taking place right after Hawks and Dabi’s first contact, which is what the manga implies.

3. Deleted several key shots in the Jeanist apartment scene, with the effect of making Hawks way less creepy. We got an anime-original shot of his eyes, narrow and serious, but not either of the shots of his big, off-putting grin and widened eyes as he pulls a feather-blade on Jeanist. We also lost a shot of Jeanist turning to face him, framed between extended primaries of Hawks’ Fierce Wings. It’s not like the anime dropped the fake!Dead Jeanist plot, so I’m not sure why the shift, unless it’s just that they wanted to keep Hawks likable for the merch-buying crowd, not creepy and unsettling. And while I personally never believed that Hawks really killed Jeanist, a lot of people thought it was plausible, no doubt based on how off-kilter he comes across in this scene. It loses a real frisson, to just play it straight.

• Shigaraki decaying a missile in mid-air. So Dabi can get those little animation flourishes but Tomura can’t, huh, anime? I see how it is. I. See. How. It. Is.

• Spinner’s little side comment about all the ice everywhere. A nice demonstration that Geten and Dabi’s fight really is affecting huge swathes of the city; that’s certainly apparent already in a bunch of the wide shots showing exactly that, but it’s helpful to have the more zoomed-in moments, too. Also, I do enjoy those little side quips wherever we get them, and the anime often removes them.

• Thinned out the crowd guarding the route to the tower somewhat (it’s particularly noticeable on the mid-distance rooftops) and, as best I can tell, removed Shigaraki and Spinner from the shot. Why keep all the lines harping on the 110,000 number when a) it’s not even accurate to the MLA’s forces, just the League’s assumptions, and b) the studio doesn’t even have the resources to adequately convey the numbers the manga does portray?

• Somebody in the crowd being defiant about Twice’s multiplication and vigorously declaring that the League are all just sacrifices for the MLA’s Revival Party anyway. The background nobodies? Allowed to express even bog-standard over-confidence? Well I never. How dare those people think their lives count enough for them to get dialogue.

• Spinner’s, “This keeps happening!” Of course he couldn’t have that line in the anime, since the anime cut the other big place Trumpet clearly used his power to rile up his followers. What other times were you even talking about when you said, “Every time he talks,” Anime!Spinner? That scene was the first time we even saw Trumpet since he welcomed you guys to town.

• Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. He just called him a damn moron (bakayarou) in the anime; he uses the considerably more specific baka kyouso (Google Translate gives “guru”; jisho gives “founder of a religious sect”). He uses the same term again immediately afterward—Viz’s translation gives, “More like chrome dome cult!”—which the anime also deleted.

So here’s another example of the anime doing everything it could to erase the presence of cults in the HeroAca world. The easy assumption to make is that this was tied to broadcast standards about the depiction of what Japan refers to as “new religious movements,” which—and pardon the brief swerve into real life historical horrors here—have been very unpopular in Japan since Aum Shinrikyo and the sarin gas attacks in 1995. But were these elements removed because the anime didn’t want to represent anything that smacks of new religious movements at all, or because the depiction of both the MLA and particularly the CRC are explicitly villainous and calling religious movements, even made-up ones, evil on TV leads to a lot of angry phone calls?

• Re-Destro’s line, “Unlike my good Miyashita, there’s nothing charming about you.” Of course they’d cut this, having cut the Miyashita scene, but I hate it anyway. As I said earlier, RD’s invocation of Miyashita in front of two people who are going to have not the slightest clue who that is tells me that Re-Destro really does miss and feel bad about killing the guy. Cutting the reminder that RD still feels that sting makes it much too easy to assume that Shigaraki’s right about RD hiding up in his tower, uncaring of the blood shed on his behalf, when if you read Re-Destro with even the slightest of attempts at good faith, it’s clear that those losses weigh very heavily on him.

Incidentally, and not to harp on the art again, but in the manga, Stress is still visibly spread down from RD’s temple to the ridge of his brow over his eye socket. The anime returned it back to its normal resting state, again suggesting that the death toll mounting in the streets below (as well as, possibly, the new stress of confronting a quirk as powerful as Double) left RD completely unmoved. The spread was back in the following shot, so it was probably just an art error, but it would be nice to have had fewer of those, especially when they impact characterization as much as what RD’s Stress blots are doing at any given time.

Framing Shifts

• Had Machia doing this weird cannonball skim just over the ground, when in the manga, he’s still half-buried, spraying earth and stone everywhere. The manga never namedrops Machia’s Mole quirk during the story itself, but it’s important to know for later that Machia can not only tear through obstacles, he can tear through obstacles extremely quickly.

Additions

• Gave Hawks a few new lines about how too many unexpected things happened for their last arrangement, and that Dabi should have given him more warning. Largely seemed to be there to give the anime an excuse to flashback to the High End fight, in case the viewers had completely forgotten about Hawks and Dabi having a clandestine meeting and sniping at each other in the aftermath of that event. An understandable addition, but deeply frustrating in the context of all the lines that got cut.

Chapter 232 – Meta Abilities and Quirks

• Dropped a third instance of Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. I don’t know what the S&P restriction is on this, but given that the movie was allowed to create and villainize an entire international terrorist cult, it is really incomprehensible that the MLA doesn’t get to keep their designation as such. Why?? Because the movie involves going out and defeating its cult, but the series is going to engage in a more sympathetic treatment?[5] Because the self-selecting movie crowd is less likely to complain than the TV audience? Did they just not want to draw attention to how much the movie was ripping off the MLA’s whole shtick? What??

• Missed that RD’s swole arm swipe wipes out the puppets Skeptic left behind; they just vanished from the scene entirely after Twice’s arrival. It’s hard to blame the anime for this; the manga also seems to lose track of the fact that they’re right there in between RD and the elevator—they’re nowhere to be seen anywhere between the end of Chapter 231 and the aforementioned arm swipe, where you can see them getting obliterated. Both versions could have stood to be more attentive to this; indeed, the anime could have fixed it, small error though it is.

• A sort of twitchy sparking around Shigaraki’s hand right after he decays the tower. This is foreshadowing that Shigaraki’s big AOE decay attacks are hard on his body, which will become extremely apparent after he unleashes it on the city at large during the climax, and factors into his decision to accept the mysterious power Ujiko offers. The damage Shigaraki sustains there doesn’t come out of nowhere; Horikoshi is, on the whole, extremely good at layering in foreshadowing many chapters before the foreshadowed elements come fully to light. It makes the writing look much messier than it actually is—more convenient, more pat—to delete this stuff.

• Shigaraki recognizing RD from the Detnerat commercials. Well, they ditched the Detnerat commercial, so of course they ditched this. Still, it lost one of the indicators that Shigaraki is, despite not receiving a formal education, actually quite up to speed on current events—even, apparently, when those current events are happening while he’s been fighting Machia in an isolated stretch of mountains for six weeks! I already suffer enough through fanon characterizations of Shigaraki in which he’s a basement-dwelling feral manchild glued to his gaming console whom AFO bans from accessing information about the outside world, anime! I don’t need you dropping the scenes that most clearly demonstrate otherwise!!

• In the anime, Baby!Chikara’s face was unmarked, just a normal infant face—you’d never even know the kid had a meta-ability just to look at him. In the manga, the skin of his face is clearly darker, contrasted against the paleness of his mother’s hand. It’s obvious that he’s not “normal” looking, and thus equally obviously would have attracted negative attention in his era.[6] Also had his mother smiling; her face in the manga is too shadowed and vague to make out an expression, befitting the murky tragedy of her story and the fear she must have been living with.

Framing Shifts

Additions

• A little thing: they had Twice echo, “Cushion?” when Clone!Shigaraki told him to get ready to cushion Giran’s fall. If anything, Re-Destro and his little thought-bubbled question mark is probably the one who should have had this reaction line.

• Added a visual for Clone-araki catching himself on the window. A perfectly reasonable way to fill screen time while a dialogue beat was ongoing.

• Added a panning still over a reaction shot from a bunch of Twice clones when the tower came down. It had a few good faces in it.

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So, generally, this episode was better. I definitely still had issues with it, but compared to what came before, when they were trying to cram 5+ chapters into the episodes, there were far fewer cuts, and what cuts and tweaks there were, were relatively minor. Definitely nothing that made me want to throw chairs Jerry Springer-style the way 108 and 109 did.

Sadly, I can't say the same for the remaining two episodes. Come back next time for Part Four, Episode 111: Shimura Tenko, Origin.

FOOTNOTES

[1] After witnessing the massacre that was Episode 108, I was convinced they were going to cut the policeman scene entirely, and just go right to Jin getting fired for hitting someone with his bike, letting the audience think it was his fault completely rather than cast aspersions on police and the justness of the law. I was pleased they kept it at all, but less pleased with the steps taken to soften the sharpness of its accusation.

[2] Of course, it’s not like the MLA themselves don’t understand the willingness to give everything for the people who matter. They just label those feelings Devotion To The Cause, and don’t think the League is capable of such resolution.

[3] Netflix’s Way of the House Husband, be told.

[4] Nakama is, of course, a shonen standby, but, to the best of my knowledge (which is admittedly limited; I don’t follow a lot of shounen series), it’s pretty rare to hear the word coming out of a villain’s mouth! Jin calling the League his nakama ties into how the League are both sympathetic villains in the larger story and also the protagonists of the current arc, thereby operating under a lot of protag tropes for the duration—foreshadowed by Spinner’s earlier talk of Shigaraki and his boyish, dream-chasing eyes.

[5] Sometime after the mass arrests, one hopes.

[6] This could well be a coloring error in the manga, but if so, you’d think they’d have corrected it for the volume release. Especially given that, again, the color is in a different shade/screentone than the shadow that covers most of his mother’s face, and her hand stroking Chikara’s chin isn’t shadowed at all.

#my villain academia #bnha #bnha meta #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my writing #stillness has salt

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aesterblaster · 3 years

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How Blue Lock Flips Tropes On Their Head

This'll be a more in depth look at blue lock's relationship with tropes and how it's different than most stereotypical stories about sports.

I would like to first talk about some tropes to do with the main character of the story.

In most sports manga the mc has some sort of advantage, an ace in their pocket so to speak. They are also usually a bit of a softie/naive. Isagi, the protagonist of blue lock, fits this bill at first glance. However as you dive deeper into the story you realize Isagi isn't all that special, everyone has an ace in their pocket. Hell, he isn't even the best at predicting moves. But he makes up for this by not being as naive throughout the whole story, he can be selfish and egotistical. He can push people around and degrade them if need be.

Honestly, I find this to be a refreshing take since he is much more believable as a character than some 100% bubbly gifted kid.

Next up are a few tropes that are..personal pet peeves.

Sometimes in sports genre manga you see a character get beaten nearly to a pulp, but they still get back up and win. Why? Because they just wanted it that badly. Blue lock does have many moments where a character pushes through and beats the odds. But in all cases the character had the skill, planning, and ability to back it up. I mean, Naruhaya, Kunigami and plenty of other characters also wanted to win badly but still failed. This not only heightens the stakes, but makes the moments when characters do pull off a miracle win or last minute goal much more satisfying. Because it doesn't happen for everyone.

The *slow down* moment is another common trope in sports mangas. So that you can really simmer in that last play or build tension towards the point scored. But Blue Lock throws it out the window. Often, the chapters are non stop action where you have to make yourself pause to soak in the individual panels. This makes it mirror an actual sports game since yeah there are stand out moments, but it still keeps going making reading an intense roller coaster.

The protagonist ends up making their way to the top, is a huge factor in most if not all sports manga. After all, that's the point. That's what you're waiting to see. And yet we all know quite clearly that Isagi isn't a stand alone best player. But he is still highly formidable and respected which is realistic. Just because you aren't ranked number 1 doesn't mean you can't still hold your own.

Now for general character stereotypes.

The rival that becomes a friend and the rival that stays a rival till the bitter end are both tropes I see a lot in media (in general tbh). But when it comes to Rin and Isagi, they don't fit in either box. After all, they aren't friends and barely interact outside of games, but they still work incredibly well on the field together. To quote rin (not exact but yeah), "This twisted relationship is how you and I should be."

The snotty uptight character is also a big archetype. But the thing is that they are normally straight up dislikable or fitted with some sad backstory to make up for their attitude. Barou is neither of these things. While he does in fact, have a higher than thou mentality at first and seems annoying, he begins to grow and evolve as a character. We see him fall off this gifted kid pedestal and violently climb his way back up, breaking the illusion that he can solve any issue with ease. Which is why his goals and triumphs are actually satisfying instead of predictable.

The rich kid, like the snotty gifted character, is often bratty and lazy. But Reo flips this by being genuinely passionate. He learns to stop relying on what he already has and work for what he wants on his own. Most character's that are rich are explained to be cut off from or disconnected from people their age. His character does explore that idea as well but from a different angle. One where he takes a look in the mirror and decides to fix it instead of pouting. (Though he does go through his little fall from grace break up period)

The last one that I'm choosing to talk about is, actually, what makes all of the main characters so likable. I began to cover it in the above section but after thinking about it, it truly deserves it's own point. The likable characters all try to overcome their issues. Try does not mean succeed. As stated before, a couple of characters fail to rise to the occasion and get kicked from blue lock, but all of them struggled to the very end. When a main character, is held back by something they can't control (EX: better players, a teammate turning against them) they overcome it with skill and/or planning. While most manga will spend whole chapters or arcs dedicated to the character overcoming this one focal point issue, blue lock forces the character to change in an instant. With pressure, suspense, and heightened stakes, we see the true desperation and soul of the characters shine through as they claw their way through matches. At the end, win or lose, we have a newfound respect for their ability to keep fighting or adapt. Most of this development taking place during matches, not arcs, not storylines, just sewn together make or break moments.

And that is truly what makes blue lock so special and different from other sports manga.

#blue lock #blue lock manga #bllk #BLLK #Blue Lock #yeet #character examination #?? kinda

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shi-chimera · 4 years

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Balan Wonderworld headcanons have been rattling around in my head for a while now so I'm just gonna plop them here. Enjoy, don't enjoy, whatever.

◇General◇

-The Balan Theater is MASSIVE and works much like the door in Howl's Moving Castle. Anyone can access it from a number of dilapidated old buildings if they know which ones to look for.

-The theater has at least two dozen rooms, a large restaurant style kitchen, a full bar, and a massive library with window seats, a day bed, and roughly five thousand books at any given time. The books change out at random because the library has a mind of its own.

-Other rooms include Balan and Lance's bedrooms (they live in the theater), Balan's office, and some guest rooms and lounge/living room type spaces. Some of the rooms have flippable floors and sliding walls to convert them into smaller or different rooms.

-The building also has a small rear courtyard with a single, ENORMOUS tree in it. There are also some small flowerbeds and in one corner by the building is a dumpster.

-The theater's porch lights indicate if an exterior door (i.e. an entrance) is active or not. If the lights are on, the doors are open!

♡Balan♡

-Balan feeds off positive emotions and energy. It's part of why he entertains people. Smiling people are happy and happy people keep him going.

-The most extra person you can find, and has a fixation with his appearance. The smallest stain or speck of dirt, loose thread, etc. and he LOSES HIS MIND. He WILL throw an absolute drama queen level spectacle. Everything he does is over the top.

-High energy, so much so that he tends to fidget, pace, or other wise be in constant motion to burn it all off. He's also ambidexterous, but favors his left so you're likely to see him writing paperwork or lifting things with his left hand more often.

-Is an excellent chef and will cook you the most delicious meal you've ever eaten.

-Balan enjoys tea (in a traditional cup and saucer, Earl Grey in particular), but enjoys it more with cookies. If you bring him tea, make yourself a cup too because he will insist you also have one. He will also probably share a cookie with you. Save yourself a headache and just take it. He considers anything he gives you a gift and if you decline or throw it away he will be very upset and assume you don't like him anymore. You can, however, throw away napkins and the like, of course.

-NEVER drops the smile if he can at all help it. He can and will be in emotional distress and you'd never know unless you knew what to look for. Subtle eye movements and shifts in his posture reveal his mood. Will drum his fingers in specific patterns to calm himself down depending on how he's feeling, though you'll almost never see them.

-He only takes off his hat around people he trusts wholely with every fiber of his being. Lance is one of the few. He's quite pretty underneath, with finely swirling gold patterns all over him similar to Lance and a golden heart shape on his forehead (also like Lance).

-He likes wine, especially red wine. He has a high alcohol tolerance. Can and WILL drink you under the table. He gets extra flirty when he's properly drunk, and if you can get him talking he'll definitely lose track of how much he's had. He can phase objects through one another, so you'll frequently see him fill his glass by tipping it against a bottle.

-Likes to play around with a vaudeville hook and will hook Lance out of the ether if they try to phase out of a conversation or if he expressly needs something from them.

-He's HUGE and all the furniture in the theater is sized for humans, and I do mean ALL OF IT, so his lanky ass looks ridiculous sitting on any kind of furniture. There is one exception to this and that is his bed.

-Speaking of, his room is huge and decked out in a red/white/gold/navy color scheme (hmm, I wonder why?). It has wall panels. He has a walk in closet filled to the brim and a large vanity with a mirror edged in lights. It's also MESSY. Piles of clothes, random objects, makeup all over the vanity. The bed is a 3/4 circle, and it wasn't his idea. Lance actually had it put in while Balan was distracted.

-Why did Lance get Balan a new bed? Well, Balan USED TO sleep in a human sized bed, and he sleeps like he's dead. As such, he can and did fall out of bed every night without fail, usually taking a nightstand or other large object out on the way down and not waking up at all. The crashing sounds kept waking Lance up and they had enough of that.

-Threw a hissyfit when Lance got him the new bed without permission. Sleeps splayed out in the "starfish" position, usually tangled up in the sheets like they came alive and tried to strangle him. One or more limbs will usually be hanging over the side, including his head. Doesn't fall out of the new bed NEARLY as often.

-If you fall asleep in the theater, expect to wake up in that bed. He will insist you sleep in comfort, and the bed is big enough for five people so you aren't inconveniencing him in any way by laying in it. He can sleep across from you on the other side, and will sleep still as a statue if you're there.

-Has little to no concept of gender as a whole. He has no biological gender and can be whatever he wants as he feels fit. Accepts any and all pronouns. As such, he doesn't assign gender stereotypes to ANYTHING (clothes, people, objects of any kind) and doesn't understand most human created gender related norms.

-Will frequently call people Darling. If he likes you, will sometimes call you Dear. I.e. "Lance, darling, why are you always like this? Just SMILE!" and "Look at that smile, dear girl! Positively RADIANT!"

-For the LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE LOVE HIM. There is NEVER such a thing as too much affection as far as Balan is concerned. He will PINE for it. Hug him, lean on him, ask him to hold your hand or carry you around. Something, anything! He WANTS as much attention as possible and will come at you like he's more touch starved than Lance. He has ZERO concept of personal space. He will toss you in the air (he will also always catch you, calm down), hold your face, pat you on the head, flat out glomp you, the whole shebang. Unless you clearly state otherwise, he will be all over you ALL THE TIME.

-Rarely if ever gets TRULY upset, and if he does the cracks will start to show. He will pace and rapidly teleport when stressed out, and will sometimes summon doubles without realizing. The doubles can't talk, and mainly just act as stand-ins in shows.

-Always puts the visitors first and will cancel a show if he feels someone is in danger, emotional distress, etc.

-His eyes glow in the dark, and the pupils get narrower instead of smaller (kinda like a cat). His dreads are also prehensile (they can be moved at will) and he has a set of four back tendrils like Lance. He never shows them unless absolutely neccessary or for intimidation. They're curled up like little nubbins on his back, under his clothes. They're extremely sensitive and are actually feelers that let him read the energy in a room so he can react accordingly.

-He DOES have casual clothes, usually semiformal (button up shirts, suit vests, etc.) and will pull his dreads back out of his face when his hat is off.

-He enjoys witty banter, and will have a "banter battle" with anyone willing, Lance unwillingly included. Annoying Lance is actually one of his favorite pasttimes. He's kinda a lil shit sometimes.

-Is literally millenia old and has been hanging around doing this showbiz thing for ages, just in different ways. Picked up the theater thing when it was immensely popular around Shakespeare's time. He's actually older than Lance, and despite his largely immature attitude, he's actually more emotionally stable.

☆Lance☆

-Angsty lil cinnamon bun.

-Absolutely starved for affection of any kind (Balan doesn't count), and very lonely. Will immediately doubt you/deny/contradict you if you compliment them. Will squirm and make desperation "THEY'RE TOUCHING ME. WHAT DO I DO? I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. BALAN HALP." noises if you show them physical affection. Will also blush profousely.

-Plays the villain role in all the shows, and as a result almost no one likes or acknowledges them. As a whole they tend to be antisocial with very clear touch boundaries (Balan does NOT CARE). Very quiet and serious, and only speaks when absolutely necessary.

-Will NOT sugarcoat things (unless they like you, then expect sugarcoating of unimportant/trivial things). Less than stellar at the whole "emotional comfort" thing. If they like you, will hold you if you ask (especially if you're visibly upset).

-Feeds on negative emotions, meaning they have a more constant energy supply than Balan (though Balan is physically and power-wise stronger). Tends to be emotionally unstable and will get easily fed up/throw a small tantrum when they've had enough. Generally low energy and sleeps/naps often.

-Strictly They/Them pronouns. Also lacks a biological gender like Balan and can be anything they feel like being. Understands human created gender stereotypes and social norms.

-Prefers more feminine clothing. You're more likely to see casual clothes with Lance. They rarely care about other people's opinions on the matter. They prefer comfy, truly casual clothing made of soft cloth. Will always be wearing heels of some kind, though, and usually a scarf. Hair will be pulled back, typically in a messy bun or something similar.

-Does all the repairs and maintinence for the theater, including costume repair (especially if Balan's costume needs it, he will weep LOUDLY until Lance fixes the issue). Not uncommon to see them with their head in a ceiling fixing wiring, etc.

-Will absolutely melt if you stroke/run your fingers through their hair. They find it soothing, and if you pull them to you they'll fall asleep on your lap, against your shoulder, etc.

-Back tendrils are PAINFULLY sensitive, please don't touch without permission.

-Is a terrible cook in all things except desserts and sweets. They excell at all sugary treat making. Also an excellent bartender with a wide knowledge of cocktails.

-Absolute lightweight. Will get drunk off two shots, and is a weepy drunk. Tends to steer clear of drinking alcohol as a result. Enjoys Shirley Temple drinks, and can tie cherry stems into shapes with their tongue. Will cut you off if they think you've had enough booze.

-Impeccable and neat room filled with crystals, candles, incense, and lots of glow in the dark things. Their room has a purple and dark theme with small gold accents and is in general a small room with one window on the left side. Modestly sized canopy bed with plain bedding. Expect to never see this room unless they really adore you. They will know if you've so much as touched the doorknob and they WILL show up immediately to shoo you away.

-Tends to phase through the floor in a puddle of shadows, especially when trying to avoid a conversation. Will flail desperately if Balan pulls them back with his vaudeville hook.

-Lance is a light sleeper and any small sound will usually wake them up. Balan leaves them constantly sleep deprived. Sleeps curled up in a ball with their face snuggled into the comforter.

-If they find you asleep in the theater, they won't move you, but you're likely to wake up with pillows under your head and hips and a blanket tucked over you. They will also fall asleep anywhere and everywhere so if you're drowsy they'll steer you to the best napping spots (the daybed in the library is one of their favorites).

-Will throw stuff at Balan, watch your head.

-Has two sets of upper fangs, one right after the other and the second set is smaller than the first set, and one set of bottom fangs. Will rarely if ever smile, and is hesitant to be happy around you if they like you. NO ONE likes them, and if YOU like them you're the only one so they don't want to scare you off.

-They are remarkably gentle (despite being constantly cast as the villain), and tend to move more gracefully than Balan. Excellent at the Waltz and Tango, though they don't dance often.

-Eyes ALSO glow in the dark, and the pupils are slitted like a cat. They get huge and round if something catches Lance's attention.

#balan wonderworld #headcanon #balan headcanons

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kittyreading · 4 years

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Manga Master List: Recommendations and My Personal Wish List

!!//PLEASE READ//!!

Below is every manga from my amazon wishlist I would recommend(as of February 11 2021) with a picture and a 3-5 sentence explanation of what the manga is about. Underneath will also be the number of volumes I have read, the number I own, and it’s status of ongoing or complete and how many volumes it has. This way you can decide for yourself if you think I have read enough of it to give an accurate recommendation.

This list only includes manga you can purchase (including digital purchases) from the wishlist. I decided that I would in fact include my personal amazon manga wishlist here and at the bottom for people to buy THEMSELVES a copy of any of these manga they would like. Keep in mind many of these won’t have volume 1 in the list but you should be able to get to the series page from the list. If a manga shows up on the amazon list that I did not include in this one that is because I have not read enough of them(or any of them) to recommend. Ok? Cool, enjoy the list!!

1. The Girl from the Other side is about a little girl living with a gentleman monster. It is a supernatural mystery with beautiful art.

Own: 0

Series: Ongoing at 9 volumes

2. Pumpkin Scissors is a military fantasy about a War Veteran named Randal Oland who joins the pumpkin scissors core to help with war relief and uncover the deep corruption of the government. It is similar in themes to FMA in the sense it appears to be based on a World War, and corruption of government but it more focused on the power of the noble houses in government. There is also a fun science element but it is not as in focus as in FMA. The two but are very very different overall tho. Only 5 volumes were distributed in physical English copies as the publishing company went bankrupt, all others are only available digitally. (I couldn’t get the manga vol. 1 cover to work so the picture above is a poster for the anime)

Own: 0

Read: around 10

Series: Ongoing at 23 volumes

3. Monthly Girls Nozaki-kun is a slice of life about a bunch of highschoolers. Nozaki is the mangaka of a popular Shoujo manga who uses his personal experiences with friends to create his monthly comic series. It is a fun gender stereotype reversal manga with a large cast of both male and female characters (one could be HC as genderfluid but she’s still canonically female at this time) The manga is one of the easiest to read as the panels are mostly in straight down rectangles so the pages are extremely easy to follow and is very funny.

Own: 1

Status: Ongoing at 12 volumes

4. Yu-Gi-Oh! is well known to be about the card game yu-gi-oh, using magic and myths to further the story, HOWEVER, Yu-gi-oh! is the “Season 0″ of the series it is much darker than to be expected and there is no card game. The Yu-gi-oh most are familiar with is Yu-gi-oh Duelist (just found this out myself) and is the Yu-gi-oh you probably already know. There is no overarching plot to this mini series it is just Yugi fucking shit up playing games and destroying some bullies. I have yet to read any of Duelist as of the creation of this post therefore I cannot recommend it :/

Own: 5 (1-3 & 6-7)

Status: Completed at 7 volumes

5. The Way of the House Husband is about a former yakuza who gets married and flips his script. He becomes a house husband for his working wife and carries on doing chores and errands while still looking and acting scary unintentionally and getting himself in trouble. It is a slice of life comedy with some adult jokes but is over all extremely funny and pleasant to read.

Own: 0

Status: Ongoing at 7 volumes

6. Hikaru no Go is about a highschool boy who finds a haunted Go board. He meets the ghost who once was a prolific Go player. Together they work to become a world class Go champion meeting new people along the way. This series was cut short due to legal issues with a real Go player and therefore will remain unfinished but the story that is there is golden. It is still one of the most popular manga in Japan.

Own: 0

Status: Complete at 23 Volumes

7. Zatch Bell! This manga is about a teenager named Kiyo who gets sent a young boy with amnesia named Zatch Bell who turns out to be an alien called a momodo. Now the two must battle other momodo in order to understand what happened to Zatch and to make Zatch the new king. Along the way they make many friends and save both the momodo and human worlds. This one is difficult because it is a classic that did not do well in America so the volumes are expensive and the series is unfinished in English. You can only buy 27 of the volumes in English and a few of them are almost impossible to find, however it is well worth the money if you can afford it and it is available online.

Own: 6 (1-5 & 13)

Status: Complete at 33 Volumes only 27 printed in English (you can finish series online)

8. Fullmetal Alchemist is a cult classic most have read it, watched the series, or heard of it at the very least. This is one of the most popular Manga of all time and for good reason. The manga is about 2 brothers Alphonse and Edward on a journey to return their bodies to normal after committing the taboo of human transmutation. The manga has themes of racism, government corruption and manipulation of the military. The versions on my wishlist are the special Fullmetal Editions so they will have a different price point and volume number than the regular volumes or the omnibuses’

Own: 12

Status: Complete at 27 Volumes

9. Princess Jellyfish is about a young woman who is sort of an outcast otaku living with 5 other otaku women. She has a deep love for jellyfish as they remind her of her late mother. She meets a beautiful woman who turns out to be a male college student and slowly comes out of her shell making new friends and growing with old ones as well. This manga is very sweet and I really don’t know what else to say haha.

Own: 0

Status: Complete at 17 volumes

10. !!!HUGE TW FOR EATING DISORDERS!!! In Clothes Called Fat is a, oneshot, non romanticizing story of an office woman trying to lose weight and developing several eating disorders in the process. She goes through hardships in relationships and bullying as well. It has a bittersweet ending and should be read with caution but it is beautifully done. Please do not read this if you are under the age 16 at the very youngest there are NSFW moments as well as just generally not being a topic for younger audiences.

Own: No

Read: Yes

Status: Completed one shot

11. My LOVE Story!! Is an adorable Slice of Life shojo about a highschooler named Takeo Gouda, his girlfriend Yamato, and his best friend and hear throb Suna. This series is rather refreshing as the relationship starts pretty much immediately, the best friend is very supportive, and it is focused on Takeo’s personality over looks as he is often compared in manga to a gorilla or bear. It is a generally heart warming story with some emotional side plots. The ending is sort of sudden but it’s really enjoyable.

Own: 6 (1-3,8,10-12)

Status: Completed at 13 Volumes

12. Soul Eater is pretty popular but if you don’t know what it is about it is about a Weapon named Soul and his Meister Maka. They attend a school that teaches them how to defeat people before they turn into Demons, saving the world in the process. Once a weapon eats 100 evil souls and a witches soul they can become the new death Scythe! That is the plot presented, and it of course goes off into a much more complicated storyline. It is super fun and engaging with a fascinating plot near the end.

Own: 5

Status: Completed at 25 Volumes

13. D. Gray-Man is a little complicated. Similarly to Soul Eater D. Gray-Man is a story based around defeating people turned demon and the saving of the world through an organization, however the plot gets very complicated very quickly. The art is some of the most interesting and beautifully fun art I’ve come across and the characters are (so far as I’ve read) all amazing. The story has a lot of christian influence and is one you have to really keep up with to understand but I recommend it regardless!

Own: 10

Status: Ongoing at 27 Volumes

14. One-Punch Man is also very popular and is about a man who becomes so strong he only needs to punch you once to completely annihilate you, and it greatly annoys him. This manga greatly touches on the themes of self worth as Saitama becomes a hero that no one seems to want. The fights are fun and engaging, tho at times can be difficult to read. The art is gorgeous, with some of the most heavily detailed work I have ever seen.

Own: 3

Status: Ongoing at 21 Volumes

15. The Boy and The Beast is the manga adaptation of the movie by the same name. This is a bittersweet story about a boy who finds a family in the land of the beasts and the repercussions of this intermixing. It is sweet and sad and there’s not much else to say, but that it is a beautifully crafted story.

Own: 1

Read: 1 (but I’ve seen the movie and read the light novel)

Status: Complete at 4 Volumes

16. MAR is not a manga I should be recommending as I genuinely don’t think I have read enough of the story to do so but I love it so much I’m going to anyway. MAR is a classic Isekai Shonen, a kid goes through a door into another world and has to fight a war to save it, there is a super fun magic system and some wonderful story building with genuinely enjoyable characters and battles. I am recommending this more based off the anime than the manga itself because it was one of my absolute favorites when I was younger, so take from that what you will! This manga has the same issue Zatch Bell does however, the series did not do amazingly so the volumes can be expensive!

Own: 3

Status: Complete at 15 Volumes

Thank you for your time haha! I hope you liked the list, here is my wishlist again and if you have any questions please let me know!! I will try to keep this master list updated as it and the wishlist will only continue to grow, but I make no promises for doing it often. Making this took me a very long time so I hope you like it!

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fleetingpieces · 4 years

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My One in a Million Chapter 2

Thank you @inloveoknutzy for proofreading and support <3 and @lumosinlove for your amazing OCs!!

You can read Chapter 1 here

Chapter 2 - Bad habits

“So how’s that new apartment of yours?” Alice asked over the phone. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me sooner, are you already too much of a star for your commoner friends?”

Remus laughed goodheartedly as he sat down on his bed. He’d missed Alice’s voice.

“C’mon, I’m by no means a star. And I would never forget about my best friend, you know that.”

“Ohh good, I finally dethroned Leo?”

“Ok, let me rephrase that. I would never forget about my midget best friend,” Remus corrected and laughed again when Alice cursed at him. “I’m sorry Al, it’s just been a very busy couple of weeks.”

Remus glanced around his room. It looked much more homier now that everything had been unpacked and he’d gotten himself a few paintings and decorations. Everything looked exactly as he’d imagined, and Remus felt a sense of contentment at the image.

He closed his eyes, letting the sun warm up his skin and enjoying the light breeze drifting in through the open balcony door. But when he breathed in, a strong smell of nicotine wafted to his nose.

“Fuck, not again,” Remus groaned, raking a hand over his face with an exasperated sigh.

“What? What’s wrong?” Alice asked.

“My asshole of a neighbour. I swear to god Alice, it’s like he does it on purpose.”

Throwing himself down on the bed, Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. He tried to remind himself that the guy wasn’t technically doing anything wrong at the moment, but this little thing together with everything else was cutting Remus’ patience short.

“Uh oh, are you having trouble already?”

Remus snorted.

“You could say that.” He focused on breathing in and out before launching on a rant. “I have this beautiful balcony with a view, but I can never leave the door open cause he’s always smoking outside and somehow the smell always gets into my room which is fucking annoying.”

“Well...I guess it could be worse?” Alice said uncertainly after a moment.

“That’s not all. He sometimes leaves the garbage right outside his door for hours. I don’t know what the hell he does at midnight, but I can hear his music at the weirdest hours, and then out of nowhere there are loud screams coming through the walls.”

Alice snorted and Remus rolled his eyes.

“Not that type of screams. Like angry screams?”

As the smell became too much, Remus got up and started walking towards the door.

“And the weirdest thing is, there’s so many people coming in and out from that apartment all the time. Every day. I swear, it’s ridiculous. Is he a drug dealer or something?”

Remus thought about the past week and how confusing it had been, as he’d bumped into a lot of weird, different people.

On Monday, when he was coming back from finally doing grocery shopping, he got into the elevator with a guy with messy hair and glasses. The guy was smiling so much it was a bit weird, but he was nice enough to hold the door for Remus when they were getting off. Remus smiled as well and nodded before going to his apartment and watching as the guy disappeared next door.

On Tuesday, a bloke with red hair was going out just as Remus was coming back home; they exchanged a ‘good afternoon’ and they each went their way.

On Wednesday a tall, dark, handsome stranger smiled and winked at Remus.

Thursday, a woman with red hair and green eyes struck up an animated conversation with him when he was coming back from his morning run. Remus had actually liked her, she seemed very nice and easygoing. He wondered if she was related to the guy he’d seen on Tuesday.

When Friday came around, he’d been slightly wary as he’d stepped out to take Cocoa to the park nearby. Almost as if on cue, he heard a door open and close when he was going to the lift, and soon he was joined by a shorter man with tan skin, a snapback on his head with dark curls slipping out.

He’d had to wonder if it was some sort of silly prank. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Cause every day, for a week, he’d bumped into a different person every time he went out or came back to his apartment.

All of them coming and going from apartment number 12.

Just how many people lived there? He'd casually asked the concierge about it and was surprised when the man said it was just one guy. Someone called Black, whose description matched the one of the first guy he’d met in the building.

Alice’s huffed laugh brought him back to the present as he reached the door and peered outside. And then he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Black was standing on the edge of the balcony closer to Remus’ own, and had his back turned on him. A very tanned, muscular, bare back. Remus cursed under his breath. The guy was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, and was leaning on the rail as he exhaled a plume of smoke. The way the sun reflected beautifully over his skin and dark hair had to be illegal.

“And he’s hot! Really, his back is so sexy it’s unfair!” he said as he closed the door a bit harder than he’d meant to.

Alice cackled on the other end of the line.

“Well Rem, at least you have something to look at,” she teased. “Why don’t you go say something to him?

“I would rather avoid confrontation so early on,” Remus said as he leaned back on the glass panel, ignoring Alice’s first statement. He didn’t want to have his first neighbor fight not even two weeks after moving in. But the guy was just getting on Remus' nerves, and even if he didn’t want to be that neighbour, he knew he would soon need to set some boundaries.

“I’m sorry about that sweetie,” Alice said in a sympathetic tone. Remus hummed in reply. “I hope it didn’t ruin the excitement of moving in.”

“Nah, it’s alright. It would be nice if we could get along, but worse comes to worse I’ll just have a talk and that’s it. We don’t have to be friends or anything,” Remus decided not to mention the issue with his Mum’s painting, otherwise Alice might just show up here to kick the guy’s ass herself. Smiling slightly at the idea of tiny Alice standing up to that guy, Remus glanced at the clock and cursed. “I’m sorry Al, I gotta run or I’ll be late for my first class.”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Don’t be a stranger!”

“Yeah, yeah, bye Alice!”

As soon as Remus hung up, he scrambled through his room to grab everything he needed. He stopped only for a minute to fill Cocoa’s bowl and pet him on the head before heading out, thanking the heavens that for once, there wasn’t anyone waiting for him in the hallway.

Remus had been working non stop ever since he’d started gaining popularity online, and took a few days off to adjust to his new living space before he started working at the new studio. Not that he’d completely stopped, what with making and editing videos for the page.

Some students were already waiting when Remus arrived, but he was just in time. For the first time ever he had a fully booked class, and even some people in a waiting list in case any space would free up. Remus was so thrilled, he couldn’t keep a smile from his face.

He looked around when he entered the room where he would be imparting the yoga lesson, and the first thing that caught his eye was a head of flaming hair.

The girl was wearing black leggings and a loose shirt, and Remus recognized her at once from last Thursday. She glanced up, and surprise crossed her face before she broke out in a smile.

"Hello! You're from Sirius' building aren't you? Are you here to take this class as well?"

Remus wasn't sure who Sirius was, but given the fact that she had been to the apartment next door, Remus figured it must be his dear neighbor.

Sirius Black.

Even his name was pretentious.

"Ah, no, I'm actually the new instructor," Remus said, smiling shyly.

"Oh that's great!" the woman beamed. "My friend Natalie recommended your class, said I would not regret it. So, you're Remus?"

Remus nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, pleased to properly meet you um.."

"Lily," she smiled, and Remus couldn't help but return it. It was so easy to talk to her.

Remus moved to start setting up his things while they waited for the last few students to arrive. Lily followed.

"Natalie should be here any minute, she was super excited about this. Apparently, you're pretty famous! I don't pay much attention to social media, so I haven't heard from you before." Lily smiled apologetically, but Remus waved her off.

"Oh that's not true, I'm just a normal guy that happened to have a bit of luck. I do hope you enjoy the class though." He bit his lip, wondering if he should ask the next question or if he would come off as a prying old lady, but then curiosity got the better of him. "What's the deal with all the people in that apartment? Do you all secretly live there?"

A dark look crossed Lily's face, but it was gone in a second and replaced by a small worried frown.

"No, that's just Sirius' home. I'm sorry about all the trouble, I swear it's not always like that,” she said, tugging at a strand of her hair. “Things should calm down soon...I hope."

Remus wasn't sure what that meant, but he knew asking more about it would be too nosy. It was none of his business after all, he just wanted some peace and quiet.

"Oh, I know!” Lily suddenly perked up. “We're throwing a Halloween party at Sirius' in two weeks, why don't you come over? That way you can meet everyone!"

Remus schooled his features carefully to avoid cringing. He didn't particularly like parties, the smell of smoke and alcohol, the inebriated people doing stupid shit, the many mistakes made in the thrill of the moment...yeah, Remus could live without all that crap.

"I don't know, Lily...I don't think I'm invited." And that guy and I don't really get along well, he thought.

But Lily just rolled her eyes.

"I just invited you. That flat is almost like my own home, so Sirius won't mind me inviting someone over, if that's what you are worried about."

Remus busied himself searching his bag for nothing in particular, wondering if Lily and Sirius were dating. They certainly seemed really close to each other, he could tell by the way she said his name; but how could someone as nice as Lily date that ass?

"C'mon, it'll be fun! You can make new friends, and that way it won't be so weird if you bump into any of them in the hallways again."

"I'll think about, ok?" Remus said to appease her, but he knew there was no way he'd be going to that party.

However, the look Lily gave him and the glint in her green eyes told him she wouldn't let him off so easily.

***

Later that night, Remus was sitting by the window of his living room, meditating. He’d gotten into the habit of doing it when he needed to wind down, or when there was too much on his head; and today, after a long day back at teaching, it was a good way for him to relax.

And for once, everything was quiet. No loud music coming through the walls, no people shuffling about all over the building, even the city outside seemed quieter than usual, and Remus basked in the silence that filled his ears as he breathed in deeply.

Or at least he did until he heard a loud whoop that almost made him jump out of his skin. What the hell was that?

A string of muffled words and a loud laugh followed as Remus sat there with a hand over his racing heart, trying to calm down. And even then, with his breathing completely messed up, Remus surprised himself thinking it was the first time he’d heard laughter from next door instead of just shouts, and how oddly familiar it sounded.

“For fucks sake,” he muttered, getting up.

He’d finally had enough. He’d tried to let it be and avoid confrontation, but was it really that hard to be considerate? Did he think he was the only person living here?

Breathing out, Remus made his way through the hall and knocked on the door. There was no response at first, but the noise inside quieted down. Remus waited for a bit before knocking again, a little louder than before. This time there were approaching footsteps on the other side, and he was pretty sure he could hear someone cursing.

Remus was going over his speech in his head, trying to figure out the best way to talk to this person, but as soon as the door opened, all words disappeared from his mind. Actually, every thought in his brain flew out the window as he was met by stormy grey eyes boring into his.

It was the first time he was seeing Black’s face, and why the fuck did he have to be so fucking gorgeous?

He had high cheekbones, and a jaw that was screaming to be kissed; his inky black hair held in a messy bun at the top of his head, with a few strands framing his face. Remus already knew he was fit as hell, but fucking God, those eyes.

Remus’ breath caught in his throat as he took in the slightly surprised look on Black’s face, who was looking him up and down. It was then that Remus realized he was so pissed that he hadn’t even thought about changing out of his yoga tights. His cheeks warmed up, and the thought of blushing in front of this guy annoyed him even more.

He glared at Black, who arched a perfect eyebrow.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he started, still trying to be polite, “I live next door, and I didn’t want to do this, but could you please keep it down? I’ve been listening to your music all week, and even if you have good taste it’s getting really annoying.”

You have good taste? What the hell was that? Remus chided himself.

Sirius glanced behind him at his apartment with mock surprise.

“There’s no music right now, is there?”

Remus rolled his eyes; he didn’t care how good looking this guy was, or how curious he was about the slight accent in his voice, he was absolutely obnoxious.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause the screaming is so much better,” Remus deadpanned. He thought he saw the corner of Black’s mouth quirk up, but he was still staring Remus down.

“Oh, I was just punishing the gang for not making the drugs faster,” Sirius said, and his mouth moved to the side, like he was biting the inside of his cheek to fight a smile.

Remus' eyes widened.

"Yeah, I'd invite you to come in and have a look, but it might be too hot in here," he continued in a teasing tone.

"Oh my God, you heard that?" Remus fought the urge to cover his face, which he was sure was beetroot red.

"Just bits and pieces. You were talking pretty loudly," Black said, the amused smile finally appearing on his face. He leaned with a shoulder against the doorframe, looking Remus up and down again. “But hey, I could show you more of my sexy back if you really want to.”

Remus did his best to fight his embarrassment as he squared his shoulders, his expression going hard. How did this guy manage to make him so angry every time?

“I would never want anything to do with a disrespectful, self-centered prick like you." Politeness be damned, he was not going to stand here and let this man make fun of him.

Black's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he regarded Remus with new interest.

"I -"

Some voices came from inside the flat, and Black looked over his shoulder. When he turned back around, he looked Remus straight in the eye with a penetrating gaze.

"I will try to keep it down," and without another word, he closed the door in Remus' nose.

Remus just stood there for a few minutes with his mouth hanging open, absolutely bewildered, before a scowl took over his face. He turned around and marched straight into his apartment, closing the door behind him and taking a few slow breaths to calm himself.

When that proved fruitless for the first time in a very long while, he went straight to his computer and onto Padfoot’s channel. A pleased sigh escaped his lips when he saw that he was going live and clicked the video immediately. Padfoot hadn’t made a new video in a few days, which had been slightly worrying, so Remus was glad to see he was back.

When the video loaded though, Remus frowned. A game was being shown full screen, but the character was just standing there, not doing anything, and the only voices heard were from other players. Padfoot wasn’t there. The live chat was going crazy asking what happened, saying everything seemed fine and then Padfoot had just disappeared.

But a few seconds later Remus, heard a small laugh and a familiar voice talking to the viewers.

“Hey guys, I’m back! I’m so sorry about that, I was just very rudely interrupted. Although I must admit, it was a very interesting interruption. Anyway, let’s crack this thing, I left my partner alone for a long time and we all know he is as useful as a chocolate teapot.”

“I protected your sorry ass while you were away, and that’s the ‘thanks’ I get?” another voice came from the video with mock offense.

“Yeah, yeah, I appreciate your efforts Prongs, but we both know who's the one that gets things done here."

“Oh, yeah? It’s always like this with you, whenever you do something awesome it’s ‘Oh, look at me, I’m amazing’, and whenever you fuck up it’s ‘Oh, we are a team’.”

“That’s how teamwork works!” Padfoot said in his most convincing tone.

Remus laughed at Padfoot’s antics, feeling a lot better than a few minutes before, and started thinking about everything with a cooled head. He would have liked to get along with his neighbors, to have a quiet, happy life, but he could try to ignore him. He didn’t have to see the guy more than was strictly necessary. He wasn’t going to.

#My One in a Million #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #fanfic #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #writing #hp marauders #marauders

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chalkrevelations · 3 years

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Street Dance of China S3, Ep 3. It sounds like maybe I should step up my pace on these, as they’ve announced the captains for S4 now? (Yibo back, Lay Zhang back, plus a couple of new guys I don’t actually recognize yet.) When is this going to air because it is just LAUGHABLE that I can keep up with 3+ hours of this a week. Particularly if I’m going to keep obsessively re-watching Word of Honor AND try to finally finish Killer & Healer in the miniscule free time I actually have for teevee. There’s certainly no way I can watch and dither on about 3+ hours/week worth of dance show in realtime before January, at least.

ANYWAY, this ep, we get a recap of everyone falling out after the captains’ cypher, and we learn who got the final extra towels and passed through to the next round: Lu Jiao Ni, who we barely see, on Team Jackson Wang; Yuan Ye (as promised) and A Li (who we barely see) on Team Lay Zhang (ETA: Wait, we find out later that A Li isn’t even on Lay’s team, she’s on Yibo’s - he wouldn’t move her on, and she gets one of Lay’s towels instead); Bullet (as promised) on Team Wang Yibo; and Xiao Ming (as promised? maybe? as we’ve barely seen this guy?) on Team Wallace Chung.

This week: Out of 400 people, we’re down to 105. Not all of these faces are familiar, and I suspect I don’t really need to learn 90 percent of the unfamiliar faces. I … am going to go out on a limb and make a guess that one of the dancers whose name has been bolded in one of the past two episode recaps is going to be the ultimate winner, because I have umpty SYTYCD episode reactions on my LJ, and I suspect I know how this works. I wouldn’t even put money on any of those five bolded names in the previous paragraph, quite honestly. Anyway, now it’s time to start culling down to 60. We bring out the team captains, and my first reaction is “MY EYES” because wth are some of you wearing? Wow. Yibo’s shoelaces are all over his jacket. Wallace looks like he rolled a flasher on the street for his trenchcoat. Lay Zhang is wearing a baggy pink jumpsuit, and I guess, OK, it’s easier to maneuver bathroom breaks in one of those when you have a dick, but that’s definitely a fashion trend that should have stayed back in the ‘80s. I guess questionable fashion is an international phenomenon.

There’s also an empty chair for the promised Mystery Guest, and there’s a game with clues, and a lot of guesses from our captains about who the Mystery Guest will be, and Jackson does A Bit through the whole thing. I don’t know whether to be entertained or annoyed by him. He’s the only one without some egregiously questionable fashion choices (so far) this episode, so maybe he gets a pass. Anyway, I don’t have the pop cultural context to understand the guesses, and I also don’t have either the pop cultural context or the knowledge of this area of dance to grok the Mystery Guest’s identity, but he’s Huang Bo, and apparently he had more than 1000 dance performances in the 1990s, so he must be at least as old as me and Wallace, if not older. Yibo takes the opportunity to make the – very NON-politic – remark that maybe HE wasn’t even born yet at the time? That … is not the way to win friends and influence people, Infant. Also, the Mystery Guest is NOT the person Jackson kept doing A Bit about. The reveal is all very dramatic, and he does a lil’ bit of choreography from of each of the four Extant Captains’ videos before he takes off his mask, and they act appropriately impressed, and there are some girls with short shorts among his backup dancers, so that all happened. The show obviously wants me to be very impressed by him. Show also tells us he’ll have a special skill that will be very important and at least leads us to believe that he’s going to be the “life-saver,” so the audience immediately curries favor, or at least plays at it.

Next up: Rules. Eliminations this week involve contestants self-selecting into groups of anywhere from one to five people and performing for a panel of all the captains. Teams pull a number out of a hat for performance order. Thumbs up from all four captains, you go to the next round. Abstentions from all captains, you go home. Thumbs up from some and abstentions from others, you face the possibility of a call-out from other contestants, whereupon you have to dance for your life battle to find out which of you stays and which of you goes. Oh, and we’re only going to keep going until the 60 available seats are filled, and then we’re done. If you’re number 35, you’d better be prepared to battle someone earlier and kick their ass, or you’re fucked, you don’t even get to dance. I’ve said it before: Audentes Fortuna adiuvat. Only wait, ETA: There will be some last minute BS rules fuckery, in a way that is clearly intended to save someone in particular, which I feel some kind of way about - and it is not really the way that almost everyone on the show seems to feel - but I guess we’ll get to that later.

And cue ridiculously long nattering, so we’re going to cut here.

First group is Lin Meng (Team Wallace), Teng Zai (Team Lay), Bing - of the infamous motorbike flirtation - and Dian Men (both Team Yibo), along with a dude we haven’t actually seen yet, Tang Qian (also Team Yibo). Your lack of even B-roll so far is concerning re: your chances in this competition, Tang Qian. I’m just sayin’. Anyway, this is a powerhouse group, and at least Lin Meng and Teng Zai are familiar with each other because they’re from the same crew, and Xiao Bao remarks from the audience of contestants that these guys are going to go through, no matter what. They’re going to do a totally popping routine. My sound drops out at the beginning which … yeah, makes them look even more like a boyband at the beginning, in their matching baseball uniform shirts. So, here’s the thing, they’re a little muddled, they don’t move smoothly around each other on stage - their dance moves are coordinated, but they’re not moving in space like a group that understands each other. (Somewhere in here, my sound comes back, and Yibo already can’t hold still to the music.) The other thing is, though - all of these guys are very good at what they do, they finally hit their stride a minute or so in, and when they do, they hit it hard. I’m frankly surprised they don’t get passed right through to the next round, but Jackson abstains on the vote, and when called upon to explain himself, it turns out he just wants to see them battle. I can understand the impulse, Jackson, but this is already super stressful on all the dancers, and it doesn’t escape my notice that you’re the only one of the four captains without a dog in this particular fight, so a little bit you look like you’re doing this just because you can. Remember this, because it will set a bad example for an 11th -hour vote. Anyway, there’s the chance for a callout, which no one takes because the entire audience is convinced this group is too good to beat. Five of 60 seats taken.

Group two is Shen Kai Xiang – the Jack Ma lookin’ dude. He’s flying solo. He gets to stand around uncomfortably for a while onstage while Special Guest Huang Bo does A Bit making fun of all of the captains’ speech patterns and accents and pronunciation, except Yibo’s, because Yibo apparently never talks. Ha ha. (I’m also wondering if there’s some socio-cultural stuff underlying some of this that I’m not cued in enough to fully understand.) Huang Bo then tells the contestant that Jackson has probably fucked him over by praising him too effusively (he came from Jackson’s team, and Jackson already is displaying a tendency to rhapsodize about how everything is “ART”), so all the captains now will have inflated expectations that Shen Kai Xiang is surely only going to fail to meet. I’m beginning to suspect that Huang Bo’s Special Guest Superpower is not “lifesaver” but “kind of annoying asshole.” Maybe it’s to take that particular spotlight off of Chick. ANYWAY, Shen Kai Xiang FINALLY gets to perform, and he gets a little bit of a slow start, but he packs in a lot of elements and gets a LOT of good air in his moves once he gets wound up. He’s lyrical and super emo about it. I’m kind of “eh” on him – technically, he’s good, but I’m not particularly connecting with him, which I’m willing to admit could be a me thing, as everyone else seems super-impressed. Three captains pass him through. Yibo does not and explains this decision as personal preference – he likes more “underground” styles, more battle styles. Huang Bo brings back the issue of too-high expectations to help explain why Shen Kai Xiang isn’t being passed directly to the next round, even though Yibo just explained his decision and that is literally not the reason he explicitly gave. Anyway, Shen Kai Xiang gets no call outs, which seems to surprise Yibo, and we’re at six of 60 seats taken.

In quick succession, we move through Liang Hua Jie – we don’t see much of him, but we learn that while Wallace likes his musicality, Yibo doesn’t like his face (OK, doesn’t like his facial expressions, which, what can I say? I get this. If I’d had the power to unilaterally send home Lacey Schwimmer on her season of SYTYCD, I’d have done it, that’s how fucking annoying I found the way she’d mug for the camera the entire time she danced. Like I couldn’t even watch her dancing, because I was too distracted by what she was doing with her FACE the whole time.); Jian De Chao (wait, is this Chao from the first episode?) & Chen Zui – who, from what we get to see of them have some good flow and move pretty well together, but can get a little bit mushy in their moves, and Yibo likes their skills, but Lay thinks they don’t feel like a group, which what? Incorrect; and a group that’s dubbed themselves Purple Storm Show, which includes Alex from Jackson’s team and four other people who I can’t even catch – we barely see their performance, and Lay likes them, but Jackson thinks they’re flat. I can’t tell if any or all of these guys were sent through to the next round or sent home, but if they didn’t make it, then :( because I liked Alex, and he got hit in the eye for this, he deserves better than to get sent home because his team can’t get it together. We still have no group that’s been passed through by all four captains.

And then, next up is another powerhouse team: Gongsu Wu Ming and Hei Zai (Team Lay), George and Xiao Ming (Team Wallace), and (Xiao) Bai (Team Jackson). Yibo is skeptical about an all B-boy group, and don’t make me fight you, Yibo, because an all B-boy group is like my dream come true (sorry, poppers; sorry, lockers; my heart truly belongs to the B-boys, they are my favorite). We learn they added a flip at the last minute – an assisted flip, with a couple of them flinging George into the air over the other two of them. Wu Ming thinks that George is the only one of all the competitors who could do it, but George – who has a little more skin in the game than anyone else, as the guy who could potentially land on his head wrong - is a bit concerned about whether they’re going to pull it off. They start, and they’re all good, a little bit muddled before they hit their stride, but the slo-mo cartwheel is great, and from there, they’re off and running. This is why I like the B-boys – I know it takes a lot out of you to do this, but there is nothing – nothing – like the magnetic energy they can generate when they’re in their performance headspace and everything is flowing. This is a performance, and Wu Ming has talked a little bit about wanting to step up breaking, and if this is the sort of thing he wants to do, I’m all for it – give him the platform now. I’m going to take just a minute to single out Bai and say that he’s better when he’s not doing A Bit like he did in his initial performance for Lay Zhang – he’s much more electric here, and someone else’s choreography may make the difference. Jackson, Yibo, Lay – they’re all out of their seats, none of them can hold still in the face of this. We get to the end, and unfortunately, everyone else is kind of cluttered and mushy moving into position for the flip – that is not a way to go out guys, DO NOT DO THAT at the last minute – but then George f’kn NAILS the flip, so that’s thankfully the last impression they leave. The captain’s faces are a picture. (Except Wallace, who’s suddenly too cool to give us anything, apparently.) FIRST ALL-PASS. George’s assessment: “Not bad.” :facepalm: OK, Mr. Cool Guy. They also cut in a post-interview bit with Bai about the performance, and he notes that they all know each other, they’ve been battling each other for like, a decade, now. Dance together more, guys.

Moving on, we fortunately have another very strong group to follow them: Gai Gai, Wang Tao and Huang Xiao, all from Jackson’s team, and you can tell he badly, badly wants to start in on the ART! bit but he (loudly) keeps his mouth shut about this group until after the performance. The only one of these three we’ve seen so far this season has been Gai Gai, but they all dance in the same group together, and they seem to be well-known by a lot of the other competitors, particularly Huang Xiao, both as a dancer and a choreographer. They say they’re doing jazz, although I’d be more likely to call this contemporary, if I was going to put them in a box. They are gorgeous – lyrical, fantastic dance vocabulary, amazing choreography, beautiful musicality, and the way they move together as a unit is … :chef’s kiss: I think Huang Xiao may be the best of the three, technically, but there’s something ineffably charismatic about Gai Gai that’s pulling focus a bit – just a bit – more than the other two in this performance. If there’s a weak link, it’s Wang Tao, and really, that’s only by comparison with the other two, which is a really high bar. We get some shots of the audience of competitors worrying about Yibo’s reaction, given his preference for the old-school battle dancers and an apparent “strictness” with urban dancers and related genres, but these three also get an All-Pass to the next round, and Yibo talks to them a little bit about the choreography and his (complimentary) reactions to the performance before they leave the stage.

And then. Oh, dear. Then we get a group of three – Da Mao, A Li and Tall(? Maybe? It looked like he was going to get out of this anonymously – probably lucky for him – but then the subtitles threw up this name on him at the last minute) – who are the only krumpers who’ve made it this far. Lay Zhang is really promoting them, because he really wants to see a bigger krump presence, and he’s really nervous about their performance, and he really, really should not have pinned his hopes on these three, because I hate to say it but they are a hot fk’n mess. They are … not good. I can’t believe any of the three made it this far, and in fact, we learn after their performance, while everyone is sitting in a kind of stunned horror (and y’all, I am not exaggerating for effect there), that Yibo did not pass A Li on from his team, that she got one of Lay Zhang’s final extra battle towels. I mean, there’s an obvious gap in the quality of this performance compared to everyone else we’ve seen. There’s also a lot of pacing around and standing around instead of dancing. They’re trying for the attitude, but they’re not managing it. They do manage to get an embarrassed reaction from Chick, which says something all on its own, as I wasn’t aware that he had any shame. Other competitors also are doing the embarrassment-squick cringe in the audience. Lay Zhang is literally hiding behind his clipboard. This is the first All-Out we get, where they’re directly eliminated – not even Lay can bring himself to vote “yes” on them. Now, all the krumpers are gone, and Lay is visibly sad and frustrated, but as we appear to move to a little bit of a break, Yibo displays the most emotional intelligence of anyone there and asks Lay to teach him how to krump, to distract him and get him actually doing the dancing he enjoys for a little bit. It’s also a chance for Yibo to learn a new thing, and he talks about his chance to improve in a little interview bit from later on that’s cut in here. I mean, yes, that actually was kind of a sad attempt at krump during the cypher, my dude, so this can only help you, but you also are being an extremely good guy, giving your fellow captain some emotional support right now. Thumbs up.

Next up, we have AK Dong (Team Wallace), also flying solo, and they give us a little heart-tugging B-roll about how he doesn’t have a team with him there, so he’s going it alone. He’s fantastic right out of the gate - good musicality, clean and precise, and he’s got a nice texture to his performance, it feels … full even though it doesn’t feel as big and expansive as some of the other dancers. Unfortunately, Lay doesn’t agree with me (incorrect), says he wants a performance that’s more elegant and “balanced,” and is the single holdout vote, which opens my dude up to a call-out challenge. This is the guy who looks like comedian Hank Chen, which has overshadowed his dancing twice now, because he had to listen to it from Haung Bo when he came out to dance, and he CANNOT catch a break, because now he gets challenged by three teams, including Bouboo’s team, which also includes Klash, Bullet and Colin (all Team Yibo), plus Boris (Team Lay), who we’ve only seen B-roll of so far although he speaks good Chinese, despite being from … I’m not sure where, but not China? AK Dong complains about how Boris looks at him with innocent eyes and tells him that they have no option other than to challenge, which is true (ETA: insofar as we know at this point), because they’re #36, and the 60 slots would almost certainly fill up before they even get a chance to dance. This team wins the bottle spin against the other two challengers, and I mean. :hands: This is a slaughter. They’re five-on-one, and they’re all really good at what they do, they make it look effortless, and AK Dong’s face is going to kill me. Wallace actually does vote for him, but the other three vote for the team, and that’s five more seats filled, and AK Dong eliminated, and I’m annoyed (although not as much as I’m gonna be) because I liked him, and I would have liked for him to get a chance to dance without having to listen to the Hank Chen nonsense at least once.

Next, we have Li Yue & Sha Sha, who appear to dance together on the regular. They have a kind of sultry number put together as the Green Snake and the White Snake that is … hm. I don’t know if we’re classifying this as urban or jazz for the purposes of the show, but it’s another piece that fits more into my contemporary box, if we were classifying them for most of the Western dance spaces I’ve seen. They’re good, as befits this stage of the competition, but a little inconsistent, technically. Also, I don’t find them particularly exciting to watch – I feel like something’s missing, although I can’t quite put my finger on what. I’m not sure their flow is consistent, and they’re probably not helped by following Gai Gai, Huang Xiao and Wang Tao. They get three yes votes from Lay, Yibo and Jackson, although they are … enough to maybe make Yibo a slight bit uncomfortable, being the shy and fragile homosocial forest creature that he may be, or that he may be getting edited as, who knows. Huang Bo pokes at Lay Zhang about his reaction to and vote for them. He also basically says that Wallace didn’t vote for them because Wallace wasn’t turned on by them, because Wallace is still doing his imperturbable cool-as-a-cucumber routine. Wallace’s hold-out vote opens them up to a call-out, and several groups come down to challenge, including – bad luck for Li Yue and Sha Sha – TI, who win the bottle spin. This group includes choreographer Zheng Jian Peng, as well as Su Lianya, who I didn’t realize was a TI member, both Team Wallace, along with … oh my god, Wei Ming, who’s the “Sir, what are you doing?” guy from Episode 2 when Wallace was giving out towels to poppers like candy, and I’m kind of pleased he’s made it this far, just based on that moment, alone, never mind any dancing skills. Rounding out the group are Long Long and Wei Lin, both from Team Yibo, and I think we got B-roll of Wei Lin at some point during Yibo’s eliminations in the first couple of eps. I know nothing about Long Long at this point. At any rate, everybody in this group is so good, I can finally see how they got their rep – fantastic musicality, and a great job of working as a unit. They feel like a team, even when they don’t manage to be quiiiiite synchronized. I’m not really feeling their costumes. Su Lianya continues to be a standout, even in a group that sets the bar this high. Wallace’s composure finally breaks when the other team captains evince interest in poaching her, and oh my god, he still has the hair elastic that he held for her at her initial performance, that they said would be a token of their vow to go all the way in the competition together. OK, I give Wallace a lot of shit, but this is actually kind of adorable. He literally pulls it out of his pocket to tell the other captains they can’t have her and to plead with her to remember their promise to each other. TI gets three votes and moves on. (Lay, still apparently captivated by the snake ladies although not enough to bald-facedly vote for them in the wake of TI’s performance, abstains.)

Next up are Tao and CiCi, and OK. I’m going to be honest here. I think they’re leveraging the “couple” schtick for all it’s worth, and good for them, it looks like they can pull it off, because I think some of the amazed reaction we get from the captains and from the audience is influenced a lot by their coupleness, but at the same time, I think some of the amazed reaction we get from the captains and from the audience is actually influenced by their coupleness rather than their dancing. I mean, Su Lianya and Wei Lin are in the audience of competitors clutching each other’s hands and crying, and it seems to be just as much about Tao telling CiCi out loud that he loves her just before the music starts and the fact that they kiss as part of the piece, if not more than it’s about their actual dancing. The show is also really pushing me on this, because whereas, with everyone else, it tosses up closed captions that tell me what moves are happening (in addition to dialogue subs), now I’m getting things like “heaven-made match.” They’re good, but I think they actually also suffer a bit from following the Gai Gai/Huang Xiao/Wang Tao powerhouse, because I think we’re unlikely to get anything on the lyrical side of things that’s going to match up to that for the rest of the day. Tao and CiCi are better than Li Yue and Sha Sha were, and it is pretty badass the way she manages to make herself so small and compact she literally disappears behind him for that last little bit, and if they’d won the bottle spin on the last callout, they would have won the challenge, I have no doubt. But. :hands: I think the show has actually done that thing Huang Bo accused Jackson of earlier and set my expectations too high. I’m’a sound like Yibo – or like Yibo normally would, because he also seems to get suckered into the overwhelmed reaction for this – and say that I think Tao was better in the less lyrical style when he danced with Yibo and Bing in the Ep 2 towel battle. They get an All-Pass from the captains and talk about their inspiration for the piece, which apparently is a couple who confessed their love to each other the day before the girl had to go into COVID quarantine, and well, now I guess I feel like just a little bit of an asshole for not appreciating the COVID love story properly? Anyway, the captains then keep asking them intrusive questions about their relationship, and Huang Bo mocks Lay for apparently never being in love so he won’t understand what it’s like, and I’m cringing in my seat a little before Jackson gets us back on track and Tao and CiCi finally go sit down.

Then Huang Bo takes the chance to go over to the contestants who haven’t performed yet and stress them out about how few of the 60 available seats are left. I mean, I guess it’s part of competition, but come on, dude.

ANYWAY, next up, we have a group calling themselves Team Wake Up – it’s the waackers, and this group includes Xiao Bao and San Jin from Team Lay, along with a guy we haven’t seen yet, Tu Zi; Meng Di from Team Yibo; and Gao Shi Yu, who we also haven’t seen, from Team Wallace. They start working it, and I’m like, oh wait … and then they hit the Cat Walk, and I’m like, oh shit, and a light bulb finally goes off, because I’ve been super-fk’n slow, but now they’ve shown me what this genre is about, and I’m interested to see what they do here, because a lot of this performance could be straight off the floors of the ball scene. The entire group is pretty good, although I do think Gao Shi Yu is the weak link, she’s not quiiiiite up to the standard of the rest of them. They move well as a group, though, good coordination, sharp and clean, fantastic musicality, high energy all the way through, with EXCELLENT attitude, which is half the battle, because if you’re not confident for this kind of thing – or if you can’t at least fake it flawlessly – you might as well not even be out there. They all do lose a little bit of focus when they’re in the background as they break out for their individual moves, and they fall apart a tiny bit near the end. Also, Meng Di’s belt is off-center, and I know that sounds super picky, but it kept distracting me, so I wish that hadn’t been the case. Xiao Bao is definitely still the standout here – he takes the lead from the minute they come out, with the mic, and never really relinquishes it. We finally get to see San Jin perform, and his extension could be better. Tu Zi must be lacking in the charisma department to not have shown up before this, because he’s better than I expected. Before they started, the group that Xiao Jie and Yang Kai are in together – who still haven’t performed – were debating if they should challenge this group, but Xiao Jie advised waiting to see how good they were, and then after the performance is all, “nooo, we should not challenge,” and props to you for not just writing off the waackers, my man, because they get an All-Pass, and there’s not even a chance for a callout. Before we move on, Wallace clams he’s learned some waacking during the show, and the other captains (led by Jackson, who calls him gege) make him demonstrate, and the contestants, who know what side their bread is buttered on, applaud.

Available seat check. Yibo participates in further stressing out the contestants by saying “Like, a dozen?” All y’all need to be challenging whatever chance you get. Now I bet you’re sorry you didn’t challenge Shen Kai Xiang back at the beginning, aren’t you?

Next up is our group of X-Crew representatives, hop-hop, and Yibo is excited. I almost expect him to do a little dance in his seat. Yang Kai helpfully lets me know that this group is from the top hip-hop crew in China. Oh, hey, that’s Qin Yu, from Team Wallace, the guy who Gongsu Wu Ming immediately recognized as the weak link in one of the towel battles and got up on; the guy who subsequently got taken out by Teng Zai, My Beloved. Qin Yu, the guy we hadn’t even had B-roll on, and still don’t. I wonder if I’m reading too much into that. He’s joined by Flea (which I’m assuming is a direct translation, as it doesn’t sound like “flea” when he says his name?) and Ding, also from Team Wallace - neither of whom we’ve seen before, I think - along with Ting and Lei Xiao Yang from Team Jackson. This is also the first time we’ve seen Lei Xiao Yang. I … feel weirdly unconfident about the famed X-Crew, given we haven’t seen more of them before this. Then again, we’d only seen Gai Gai from her group, so maybe this is a BigSurprise!edit … Ting comes out hard and heavy, and I actually think this is the best performance we’ve seen from her so far. She spends a lot of time out in front on this one, and I don’t think I got from her initial appearance or from her towel battle performances just how good she actually is. Overall though … I am … not that impressed with this group. They start out strong, but then they get sloppy. They have trouble working as a unit, which is surprising from people who supposedly have experience dancing together. They’re all very good, but they’re not synchronized. A lot of their solo showcase bits lack complexity, and that is an understatement. Qin Yu still has some of that nice fluidity along with his pretty face, but he’s not balanced, and he absolutely does not have the finesse he needs to pull this off. They all do move into the end strong, together again, hard, power behind their moves - almost everything from the slo-mo move is good - but … it’s a little late, y’all. That took way too long to get back together. And then, they inexplicably descend into … it’s not even sloppiness, it’s an utter hot mess during, like, the last 15 seconds of the performance, which is absolutely not the final impression you want to leave. And … wow. Shit. There are captains who actually agree with me on this. Sometimes you see the expected top dancers allowed to slide some in these early rounds of competition shows, but not this time – Wallace and Yibo both vote yes, but Jackson and Lay both abstain, and Jackson … wow. Wow. Is disappointed in them and expected more. Despite the fact that he’s like, 12, and that he’s done this to past groups just because he wanted to see them battle, a little bit this actually has a vague feeling of your dad telling you how much you’ve let him down. The audience is shocked, but I’m glad to hear someone say it. It was a good - if spotty - performance but certainly not the best we’ve seen.

So, we have a callout, and the group with Xiao Jie and Yang Kai, which also includes some guys named Shen Zi Hao, Xiao Zhi Bin and Oscar, pounces. And that is a very deliberate word choice, because these guys are on X-Crew like a lion on the trailing gazelle. They’re in their Men In Black suits (ETA: Wait, no, I think maybe they’re Agent Smith suits), and the audience of other competitors is losing it. Xiao Bao is very excited about Xiao Jie. Both Yibo and Jackson look like they’re in actual physical pain, to be forced to make the choice that’s coming up. Ting looks like she’s getting ready to throw up – she’s accepting this with less equanimity than she did the possible results of her initial performance, at least on the surface. I … am dreading losing her, actually, because I suspect that’s what’s getting ready to happen, and I am so so sorry, baby, that you worked so hard to carry your crew like that and they couldn’t keep their shit together. On the one hand, I’m impressed they’re pitting this level of competition against each other so early. On the other, I feel Jackson’s and Yibo’s pain. God. God. The Xiao Jie-Yang Kai group is here to f’kn battle. This is shaping up to be a slaughter. They are fast, clean, precise, great musicality, complex moves, super performance. They’re synchronized, high energy, fantastic animation – which could be a little cheesy, but they’re confident and fearless enough to pull it off - fun and interesting. They are maybe a little bit too gimmicky to be perfect for my taste, but I’m not the one voting them through, and what they’ve come up with is perfect for the audience that matters – the captains, the majority of which are 20-something-year-old boys – and knowing your audience, and performing for them, is a skill, too. BIGGEST (and frankly, only) ISSUE: Somebody fucked up a move, right at the beginning … I think maybe Yang Kai? (ETA: Yah, it was Yang Kai, ugh, what a time for that to happen.) If you’re going to fuck up, best to do it at the very beginning, I guess, and then give this performance afterward, to mitigate it as much as possible, but that one misstep gives the captains enough excuse put off a decision they really don’t want to make, like it’s not just going to make it worse to kick the can down the road a few minutes. Split vote, 2-2 (I thiiink, Yibo and Jackson for X-Crew, Lay and Wallace for the challengers?), which throws it to a further battle. Ting and Xiao Jie, one-on-one, and both of them are feeling the pressure of competing for their entire team instead of just themselves. Two rounds, hiphop and locking. So, each of them is better in their specialty. Ting’s got some fantastic, precise moves for the hiphop round. Xiao Jie is not as good in this round; I do notice he’s got a more directly confrontational style when he’s battling. I feel like she’s doing more waacking than locking in the locking round. Overall, she’s cleaner, more precise, he’s got a little bit more energy. I wouldn’t want to make this decision, frankly. I think Ting was better technically, but Xiao Jie might be the better performer – better at all that other stuff that adds up to stage presence. I do wonder how much of the captains’ decision is influenced by the groups, and who the captains are or aren’t willing to lose, even though it’s supposed to be based on this 1x1 battle. Just looking at who the show has put emphasis on already, we’ve got Ting vs. Xiao Jie AND Yang Kai, and I don’t know that they’re going to want to let that one-two punch go. Wallace votes Ting and X-Crew. Yibo and Lay vote Xiao Jie and the challengers. Jackson, the coward, abstains. Looks like Ting and X-Crew are going home, and this is the first cut that I’m genuinely upset about seeing. Ting feels bad for letting her crew down, but they let you down first, baby, or you wouldn’t even have been in that position.

Available seat check: 12. Dancers left: 27. Well.

We’re coming up on two hours now, and there’s clearly some kind of drama we want to get to, because we whip through the next few performances – few names, limited time spent on them. The ones who do make it through are likely cannon fodder in the next couple of rounds. There’s a group of four in khakis that gets sent through to the next round; Yibo liked their moves. Guy named Zhan Ke in a suit goes through to the next round. We’ve turned into a clip show now, and the screen literally says “ … ” at one point as each group of competitors gets 3 seconds of airtime. Cut to three seats left out of the 60. There’s about seven people left, and … that includes Chick. I have a sinking feeling this guy is going to be the real focus, at this point. He’s paired up with some dude named Long, and they have lost the bottle spin on callout after callout after callout, so they’ve never had a chance to challenge, and now, look at these morose motherfuckers, still sitting in the bleachers. I almost feel bad for them.

So, three seats left, and the next group is three people: Yang Qi aka “Apple” from Team Jackson, Lin from Team Lay and Bobo from Team Wallace. Urban dancers. I lose sound on them right at the beginning, but they’ve got some nice sharp moves, good choreography, they work well as a unit. Solid performance, if not the best we’ve seen. Apple’s got the best technique, I think. Audience likes them a lot. We get a cut to Chick and the other competitors who haven’t danced yet as we count down for the vote, and they are all dying. Three votes yes. Yibo abstains. Huang Bo is so prepared for this group to be sent right through that he starts clapping and congratulating them, and Yibo has to be all, “Wait, no. Not yet.” The captains give their reasoning: Jackson says that he felt their power, emotion, speed all deserved full marks. Yibo agrees.

Yibo agrees.

…

...

…

Their faces in response, y’all. Their little WTF faces as he explains that he really just wants to see the other dancers, too. Oh my god, Yibo. You can’t just say that out loud. Are you serious with this, you can’t even make up a thing to fake critique them on? Cut to a later interview with Bobo, who’s been the least able to school his face journey in response to this: “Wang Yibo, I won’t forget.” Also, Bobo says, you’re not even hot. (lol) Joking aside, the group goes on to make all the correct noises about sure, it’s a competition, you face competitors, it’s what happens, because what are you gonna say? Meanwhile, to be completely honest, I’m probably the person who’s been least able to school their face journey in response to this, because come on, Yibo. It’d be one thing if you were making some kind of statement about the way they set this up from the beginning, with all competitors unable to participate, but I’m pretty sure you’re actually doing this to give Chick another chance, because you have been inexplicably all up on his jock since he showed up, what is it about this guy? I don’t get it. At all.

So, we get a callout, and everyone left challenges, of course, because this is probably the last chance. The audience is rooting for Chick. I still don’t get it. Bottle spin ends up on … Zhao Hai Jie, from Team Wallace, who we’ve never yet seen perform. Here’s the thing: If he can win this battle, then he only takes one seat, leaving another two seats available. However, he is NOT going to win this battle, not without ripping off any figleaf of fair competition that the show may have, because he’s just not that great. If he wins, there’s no way around the fact, right in your face, that it’s a strategic vote. He does not win. Four votes for Apple, Lin and Bobo. Sixty seats filled.

HOWEVER, just in case you were worried there may be any integrity here, director Lu Wei comes ambling out to say, hey, you know those rules we have in place? Well, fuck ‘em. Who cares. Let everybody left battle, and whoever wins that battle can have a seat along with the 60 other people. I’m going to translate this one, because despite the limitations of my Level 1 Duolingo Mandarin, I have umpty SYTYCD episode reactions on my LJ and I feel like I’m pretty fluent in Dance Show BS: “We really want to keep somebody who’s left, so there’s going to be some chicanery on our part.” They really do not want Chick to go home, y’all. I know it’s him. It’s super extra obvious they’re desperately trying to save him, at this point. And I am here to tell you that if Chick ends up on this show and Ting goes home, there will be nothing on this earth that could possibly resurrect Chick from the Pit of My Dislike.

Anyway, we get Dai Dai from Team Lay, who describes herself as a fusion dancer and is pretty good for the first 40 seconds or so of her music and then completely loses the thread and kind of falls apart. The captains do not seem impressed. Possibly they also know we’re just killing time until we get to Chick. Up next is Su, who is Very Dramatic. He doesn’t say what team he’s from, but given Wallace’s reactions, I suspect he’s from Team Wallace. I suspect Yibo’s not going to like his face. His performance goes increasingly off the rails as he goes on. He’s got a lot of goodwill from the audience of competitors, but no. This is not a winning performance. And then we get Chick & Long, literally the last to perform. Chick spends the entire time doing A Bit. Long, who anyone barely remembers is even there, does 2/3+ of the dancing. Everyone – everyone – is apparently vastly entertained by Chick, and I just … :hands: Fine. He’s a character, but I have yet to see anything in three episodes, across, like, 7 hours, that lets me see whether he can really dance or not. Yibo literally tells Jackson, “He doesn’t have many tricks, but he’s got a ton of ideas” and later says he’s a B-boy without a power move. Anyway, one vote for Su (Wallace), three votes for Chick and Long. We’re at 62 dancers, and I cannot believe I’m going to be subjected to Chick’s continued clownery when Ting has to go home.

Thank GOD we’re activating the Special Guest Host Powers, the first of which is “REVIVE,” i.e., bring someone back who was eliminated. Yibo is immediately like, omg, the hip-hop group. Then we do Yet Another Bit where the captains cater to Huang Bo so that he’ll take their advice on who to revive, and it goes on too long when we are, my god, two hours and fourteen minutes into this. Meanwhile, Yibo reiterates, the hip-hop group. Yeah, Yibo, this I approve of - if I gotta watch you fall all over yourself over Chick, you need to get Ting back for me. So, we’re finally getting the captains’ actual recommendations: Jackson says the hip-hop group, possibly feeling bad about the fact that he’s the one who spiked their chance the first time around? Yibo is all, me too! Yes! That one! It’s kind of adorable. Also, yes, Yibo, you need to get Ting back for me. Lay says Li Yue and Sha Sha, the white and green snakes. Wallace recommends a popping group that I don’t even know if we saw perform? At any point in the past 7+ hours of three episodes? Wallace, are you high? Anyway, THANK GOD, Huang Bo brings back the X-Crew group. We’re at 67 dancers.

Second Special Guest Host Power is … “battle?” So, we’re setting up Qiang Qi Da Zhan, aka Seven to Smoke, which they’ve apparently done in past seasons? Each captain picks two people – eight total – to participate. Twenty minutes total. Increments of 30 seconds each to battle. And I guess you have to accumulate seven points in various battles. We don’t get to hear the captains’ picks, but I can see that AK Dong is called back for this one. Also, I spot one of the krumpers. (:eyeroll: Really, Lay? Because I know that was you.) We see some clips of this. We see AK Dong get to six points. He … maybe gets his seventh point? Anyway, he says in the last interview clip that he’s here. I guess we officially find out the Seven to Smoke results next ep?

Also next episode: Divided into two groups and battling by genre for the next elimination. Five rounds. Also looks like captains might get a chance to poach from other teams. Also some wacky fuckery with the dancers’ heads that looks like it’s going to be stomping all over my embarrassment squick, argh.

Finally, we get a peek at hotpot, and it sounds like they ended up with 70 dancers, so three people managed to get seven points in Seven to Smoke? And somebody’s mom is apparently coming to hotpot, but I’d have to watch the actual hotpot show to find out whose mom, and we’re out.

#wang yibo #jackson wang #lay zhang #zhang yixing #wallace chung #street dance of china #sdoc episode reax

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snsknene · 3 years

Text

hesitation, arthur/eames, 11k, read on ao3 here

~~~

Arthur was in a hotel room that was his favorite kind: it was old in a way that suggested it had let number of people through its doors and would let in more until it was finally demolished a hundred years from now, old in a way that meant slightly faded carpets but wood paneling to die for.

It had not been expensive. Arthur had a lot of money from the Fischer job, but it didn't mean it would last forever. Arthur was a sensible man.

Arthur was also in his favorite pair of pajamas. They were silk and they were grey and they felt like comfort. As this was a slightly old hotel room, it had a slightly old TV with a limited number of channels, and the channel that was on now was playing reruns of some trashy reality show. Arthur did not understand anything that was going on, but he was enjoying everything that was going on, enjoying the fact that he was watching scenes of frivolity instead of growing old in a nameless dreamscape. He had a glass of wine in his hand, and he’d just had a long bath, and his hair felt slightly damp against the nice clean pillow.

He was feeling rested. He was feeling rested because he deserved it.

Of course it was then, because that was Arthur’s life, that his phone rang.

Arthur turned his head to the side to look.

Cobb, of course. No one else could ruin Arthur's relaxation like Cobb did. It was a talent and the man’s true calling.

Arthur thought he would have had a break from all the Cobb drama once Cobb had successfully gotten through immigration at the airport but apparently Cobb lived to make his life an extended babysitting gig. Arthur thought, rather bitterly, that there were only so many things Cobb could do that Mal’s death could explain away. The line had to be drawn somewhere, even though Arthur had loved her so fully and completely.

But Arthur had loved her so fully and completely. That was the issue here. Those children were still hers. If anything happened to Cobb it would be Arthur who would have no choice but to move to LA for them, and Arthur hated the humidity.

He pressed answer.

“What do you need?” Arthur asked.

“Hello to you too,” said Cobb, in a manner calm enough that Arthur didn’t think there were any guns pointed to his temple. Arthur relaxed a bit. “I was calling to check in.”

“Check in,” Arthur repeated suspiciously.

“Can’t I check in?” Cobb asked innocently. “The children are asking after you.”

“I just saw them,” Arthur said. “Tell them I’ll come by soon.”

Cobb paused. “About that,” he said, in a sketchy sort of way.

“I knew it,” Arthur said. “I knew you were in trouble. What do you need, Cobb?”

“It’s not need,” Cobb said, but it was never need, was it? Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. “I’m not in trouble,” Cobb was saying. “I just need a favour.”

Arthur shook his head against the phone and looked at the television. A favour did mean Cobb’s life wasn’t in danger and his children weren’t possibly going to be orphans, which meant Arthur, for once, had the option of saying no. For the past two years, he’d shadowed Cobb while Cobb got progressively wilder around the eyes and took on steadily more dangerous jobs, and Arthur, thinking of Mal’s arms around his neck and Philippa’s wide sunny smile, hadn’t been able to say no.

“I owe him,” Cobb said. “Properly, and it’s either I do it, but it’ll be for a couple of months– the kids need stability–”

Arthur could imagine. Their mother dying and their father being publicly arrested for it had done wonders for their future therapists’ bank accounts.

“It’s an easy extraction,” Cobb said hopefully. “And I know you’ve done so much. But look, it’s me, here, calling in one last favour.”

Arthur had already made up his mind. He had meant to see the kids anyway. He could go stateside for a bit.

“There’s just one thing,” Cobb said. He sounded apologetic now.

“Uh-huh,” said Arthur, the sigh caught in his throat already telling him what it was.

“They need a forger,” said Cobb.

~~~

There were other forgers, of course. Good ones, competent ones even. But Arthur hated working with mediocrity when he could have excellence. Eames was – unfortunately! it couldn’t have happened to a more annoying person! – excellence.

Eames had also disappeared off the grid with his share of the Fischer payout.

Which was all very well and good. Another sign of excellence, actually. Arthur had been planning to be off the grid for at least a month more with a job as high profile and risky as that. However, this made things more complicated for Arthur, because Eames’ ability to disappear was also excellent.

Arthur wasn’t Dominic Cobb’s point man for no reason. It took him nine days, but he found out where Eames was.

Eames was back home.

As off the grid went, it was still pretty on there. It was more likely people in the dreamsharing community could have seen him and recognised him. But they hadn’t yet, which also spoke to Eames’ unfortunately extensive abilities.

~~~

London reminded Arthur of Mal. Most big cities reminded him of Mal, because Mal had loved big cities. In fact, she had loved them so much she had thrown herself off a skyscraper in her most favourite city, and therefore ruined it forever for Arthur.

Luckily, while being a big city, London held no such specific memory for him. He had been there a couple of times on jobs, but those had been quick turnarounds. His strongest memories there were of hotel rooms with grey drizzly views and bad bland hotel food. He hadn’t gone around the city at all. The drizzle and food had put him off. “That’s the best they can come up with?” he remembered asking Cobb, who had merely looked, despondent and wild-eyed as ever, at the bangers and mash they had sent up.

Arthur had pinpointed the area Eames was staying, and could have waited for him there, but he figured it would look more impressive to find him where he was. Arthur ignored the little Mal-voice that asked why he had to look impressive to Eames. It took him the rest of the afternoon to track him down for the day. He was at the Tate Modern.

Arthur scanned his ticket and stepped inside the exhibition space. He combed the exhibitions until he found Art and Media, until he found a room which consisted of a large screen flashing bright unsettling images in 0.1 second bursts at its unsuspecting audience, or so the description outside promised.

Eames looked anything but unsuspecting. His face was intent. His skin was awash with the quick flicking colours of the screen, red and yellow and neon green and red red red again. When Arthur reached him he said, low, turning his head a bit, “Ah. Arthur.”

He said it Arrrthur, actually, in that annoying way he had. “Eames,” Arthur said, determined to be polite. Arthur was always determined to be polite at the beginning of every job they worked together. Eames always brought that resolve crumbling down.

“Are you in danger, Arthur?” Eames asked.

“No,” Arthur said.

“Ah,” Eames said knowingly. “A job then.”

Because Arthur made it a point to acknowledge Eames was right as little as possible, he didn’t answer, and they both stared at the screen for a while. The quick-flash images did feel quite unsettling, but the pictures didn’t last long enough for Arthur to catch what they were and why they unsettled him. He supposed that was the point. There was only colour to remember, mauve and cobalt and red red red again, colours that pressed against his eyelids.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” he asked at last.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eames shifted a bit. “No,” he said. “But we don’t need to enjoy art to appreciate it.”

“We don’t need to waste time on art we don’t enjoy,” countered Arthur.

Eames started walking out of the room then, so Arthur followed. “It’s enough that we feel the art,” he said, still low and unbearably pretentious. “Don’t you, Arthur? Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable? Doesn’t it make you long for more, or less, or something different?”

Arthur took a quick glance back into the room as they left it. The images were still flashing and the colours were still bursting.

Out of the room, Eames was visible without neon lights washing over him. Arthur noted that his hair was slightly shorter and even though he was still wearing a terrible sports jacket over terrible cargo pants, he looked well-rested. Without preamble Arthur said: “There’s an extraction–”

“Alright,” said Eames. “Hello to you too. Anyway, I can’t make it.” He turned on his heel and started walking in the direction of the exit.

“What do you mean you can’t make it?” Arthur asked, hating that Eames made him do stupid things like rush to keep up with him.

“I’m terribly busy,” Eames said, walking down the escalator.

“You’re not exactly doing much,” Arthur observed.

“Well I am,” said Eames. “So there.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.” This was veering dangerously into playground territory, like things usually did with Eames. Arthur thought about what might sway him.

“There’s a lot of money in it,” he said, knowing it wouldn’t help much.

“I haven’t exactly managed to go into debt since we were last paid more than we’d ever need in two lifetimes, sweetheart,” Eames said, hiking stupid aviators on and walking out the glass doors.

“It’s a favour,” Arthur said, then hesitating, because he couldn’t exactly say ‘to Cobb’. Eames was probably still furious at the fact that Cobb had nearly let them spend eternity inside their own heads and walked off contentedly into the sunset and his kids after. He’d said as much in the airport bar three months ago. That was how they’d left things, snappish, which explained why Eames wasn’t immediately being teasing and flirtatious and smirky in Arthur’s general direction.

Arthur didn’t miss it, of course not. This was almost professional of Eames, which had to be an upgrade.

“Oh?” Eames said, stopping and looking at Arthur, but his face was inscrutable behind the shades. Outside, it was cool with autumn weather, watery sunlight filtering through the leaves above Eames.

“To me. I’d owe you one,” Arthur said. He didn’t know why he let Cobb make him do things like this. He had loved Mal fully and completely, but surely she wouldn’t have wanted him to lose all his dignity in this way.

“You’d owe me one,” Eames repeated, sounding slightly delighted.

The wind ruffled his hair a bit. In the watery sunlight it looked watery gold.

“Yes,” said Arthur.

Eames looked at Arthur inscrutably behind his shades, and Arthur looked back, knowing Eames would call it in at the worst time, probably one day when Arthur was reclining in a hotel room, thinking of nothing but comfort.

“Alright then,” Eames said eventually. “But either way, I can’t go now. I’ll be ready in about a month or so.”

He set off again, in the direction of the pier. Arthur set off after him, annoyed that he was continuing to be difficult, just because they’d had a disagreement. “Why can’t you be ready now?”

“I said I’m busy, darling,” Eames drawled, reaching the edge of the pier and looking out at the river.

Arthur let him stare out at the Thames for long moments before he dripped sarcasm into his voice. “Yeah, I can see work’s really piling up.”

Eames sighed and removed his glasses, folding his arms and looking directly at Arthur. “I’m not messing with you, Arthur. I do have things I need to do here. If the job’s not urgent I’ll be there in a month.” Like this, Arthur could see that his eyes were the colour of the river and the sky, that he was better-shaven than on the job but he was stubbly still, that he had gained some weight and filled out his horrid sports jacket and terrible cargo points. He looked well-rested, it was true. He looked relaxed. He did not look like he was lying.

Arthur, impatient in this grey city with the grey sky and the bad food, called his bluff anyway. “Fine.”

“Fine,” said Eames, turning back to the sunset.

“Fine,” said Arthur.

After a bit Eames narrowed his eyes at Arthur. “I see you’re not leaving.”

“I’ll hang around here,” Arthur said, not at all childishly. “Help out with the job if it makes things go faster.”

“You’ll hang around here,” Eames repeated blankly.

“Why not?” Arthur asked. “I could use a change of pace. I haven’t seen much of this place.” He waved a hand at the Thames, signifying the city.

Eames suddenly looked considering, one eyebrow raised. He shrugged, and Arthur could see the beginnings of amusement in his eyes. “I could use your help, actually,” he said. His tone had changed too: lighter, more like the unprofessional behaviour Arthur knew and did not love.

Arthur had done his research. He knew Eames didn’t have dreamsharing work in London. “Let’s go, then,” he said, hoping Eames would give this up sooner rather than later, admit he didn’t actually have a job and let Arthur get started on his last Cobb favour.

In answer, Eames started heading down a flight of stairs on the pier that led to the riverbank. Arthur scowled. He could see stones and sand, pigeons excited to shit all over his Saville Row. He followed him down anyway.

Eames stood on the riverbank, dirty filthy water nearly reaching his lumberjack boots. He bent down to pick up a pebble. Arthur kept his distance as Eames skipped it smoothly on the surface, tap tap tap splash. “You’re going to love London, darling,” he called back to Arthur, picking up another pebble. “I’ll take you around and everything.”

~~~

Eames took him back to his place in Richmond, the flat that Arthur had scoped out already. It was in a nice neighbourhood, and the apartment itself was woodsy and rich, dark plush furniture and paintings that swirled warmly.

“So what is it?” Arthur said, getting impatient. They’d taken the tube. Arthur massively disliked the tube. It was hot and sweaty and next time they were taking a car, but Eames had insisted on an authentic London experience. “Who’s it involve?”

“Patience, sweetheart. You’ll see,” Eames told him, stripping off the sports jacket and revealing an awful brown t-shirt underneath. It was ripped, but not artfully, like a designer had planned it, more like mice had gotten into his closet. “We’re going there now.”

“You could try being less mysterious,” Arthur suggested.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Eames asked.

Honestly it felt kind of ridiculous, because Arthur knew there was no job. But he kind of wanted to see where Eames would bring him, how Eames would play it out, how eventually he would say You win darling and Arthur could drag him back to LA in satisfaction, because Eames brought out that incredibly petty side of him.

Eames took him for a walk around the neighbourhood. They were in the cool dark air, streetlights washing over them glowingly, time and time again. Little noises emanated from the flats they passed, sounds of dinners and nightly routines and familiarity. “Eames,” Arthur said, after exactly eighteen minutes of walking.

“It’s just here, Arthur,” Eames said. This seemed nonsensical. They crossed a playground. Eames walked up to a blue door and knocked.

Arthur began to reconsider. Perhaps they really was a job, an up and coming extractor, a new team. Sure, Eames hadn’t taken jobs like that before, small ones without the chance of big payouts, but maybe he was rolling with it now he was rolling in it.

A woman opened the door. She was heavily pregnant.

Before Arthur had a chance to gape, she was looking at Eames, saying, “Finally!” and leaned out of the door to kiss him on the cheek, before cuffing him gently about the head. “You said you’d be here an hour ago.”

She was very pretty, with wavy chestnut hair and large eyes and the same sort of carelessness of manner as Eames had, her posture easy and her gestures expansive.

“I was waylaid,” Eames said, after kissing the top of her head and tilting his head at Arthur.

“Oh, hello, come in!” Eames’s girlfriend? wife? pregnant with his child? said to Arthur, smiling brightly at him. “Who’s this?” she added to Eames as she turned to go back in.

“This is Arthur,” Eames said, stretching it out again, and levelling a grin at Arthur before following her into the flat. “He’ll be joining us for dinner.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how he was feeling. Appalled, slightly, of course, that Eames flirted like a madman and especially with Arthur and there had been times even–once or twice–after a job that they had looked at each other, exhilarated and knowing, and something in Eames eyes had softened and Arthur hadn’t known what to make of it and–well! He knew what to make of it now.

This selection of thoughts happened in quick succession and he was moving across the threshold, into a cosy, warm sort of place that smelled of spaghetti and contained Eames, sitting in a messy living room with what looked like a two-or-three year old clinging to his leg.

Two kids. The things one could keep from co-workers they’d known for years–Arthur hadn’t seen it crop up, even once. The child, golden-haired and babbling, was trying to climb onto Eames’s lap, and he was smiling down at her and talking to her lowly and adoringly. Arthur wrenched his eyes away. He tried not to stare, feeling his stomach churn. Instead he moved left, into the kitchen where the spaghetti was boiling and the woman stirred at it.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Arthur.”

“I’m Rosie,” she said, turning to stick a hand out. “Sorry the house doesn’t look great–Will didn’t tell me he was bringing anyone–”

“Sounds like him,” he said, and Rosie grinned. “It looks great, don’t worry about it.”

Her gaze turned considering, and she looked a lot like Eames when it happened. Eames had married(?) a second him, of course he had, the self-absorbed dickhead. “You work with Will?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Arthur uncomfortably, wondering how much she knew about dreamsharing. “We–work–we’ve worked together. I was in town.”

“Hmmm,” she said slowly. “He’s never brought anyone back. You really must be special.”

“Oh,” said Arthur. He tried to look across to Eames for help, but Eames was already looking back at Rosie, with an expression that looked like exasperation. Why had Eames brought him back, anyway? Sure, he and Arthur were acquaintances, almost friends, but Arthur hadn’t even heard he had two kids. Eames had kept it from everyone, and well and good for him too, you never knew who you could trust. He’d probably brought him back here tonight probably because he wanted to one-up Arthur who was ridiculously following him in London about a job, showing him look I have a life, what can you say to that? Well, he’d won. Arthur was hightailing it out of here tonight, because this was just weird.

Eames stood up. “Arthur,” he said. “I see you’ve met Rosie. And this is Lily.” Lily squirmed happily in his arms and stuck out her hand. Arthur had to exit the kitchen and head to the sofa to take it.

“This is Arthur,” Eames said to Lily, turning his head to kiss her cheek. “Say hi Arthur.”

“Hi Ar-fur,” Lily said. Arthur was helplessly charmed by this. “Hello, Lily,” he said seriously.

“He’s come to ask me to go back to work and leave you alone,” Eames said sadly to her.

Arthur hadn’t known he’d had a kid. “I didn’t know you had a kid,” he said, while Lily reached up to touch Eames’s hair. “Unca Wew,” she babbled, which just sounded like nonsense.

“Yes, Lily,” Eames cooed. “Evil Arthur’s taking Uncle Will away from you.”

“Uncle,” Arthur said inadvertently. Eames looked up at him before he could school his features into a neutral expression, and his mouth curved up into a wicked grin. “Why, Arthur,” he said, drawing it out longer than ever, “who did you think I was to Lily?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Arthur said, glaring.

“Perhaps I should have specified. I see you’ve met my sister, Rosie, and this is my niece, Lily,” Eames announced, too amused for his own good.

Rosie called from the kitchen and through a cloud of steam, “Stop teasing him. You know you should have said.”

“Though I find it slightly offensive,” Eames continued, looking at Arthur, “that you thought I was frequently jetsetting around the world away from my wife and child, with another one on the way. I’ve worked with you four times over the last year.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Arthur lied.

“You wound me, Arthur,” Eames informed him, grey eyes quite serious. Arthur had no idea if he’d really offended him or not.

“William,” Rosie said. “Be nice. And come and eat.”

They sat around the dining table, Lily in the high chair kicking her little legs out. The spaghetti was slightly overcooked but the sauce was warm and rich, and Arthur hadn’t had anything to eat all day. Eames and Rosie bickered at each other lightly. Arthur could see it now, the similarities in their features and manner: their storm-coloured eyes, the drawl, their sarcasm and clear affection for each other.

“Have you known Will long, Arthur?” Rosie asked speculatively.

“Years,” Arthur said. “On and off.”

“We work together a lot,” Eames said, throwing a quelling look at Rosie. Perhaps he didn’t want her to know about the work. “Arthur’s here to offer me another job.”

“Sorry it has to wait,” Rosie said apologetically. “Will promised he’d stay here until the baby’s born, which hopefully is in about three weeks as my feet can’t take it anymore. My husband’s stuck in Switzerland and he won’t be able to be here in time.”

“That’s very… kind of him,” Arthur said.

Eames smiled smugly at this, as if he knew what it took for Arthur to admit this in public. “I know it is,” he said, preening. “I am in fact an extremely excellent brother.”

“So,” Rosie said innocently. “Arthur, this is actually quite novel. I’m sure friends of Will have been in town before and he’s never brought them to dinner.”

“It’s just dinner,” Eames said.

“Is it?” Rosie asked.

“It’s not like that,” Eames said, annoyed now. “Arthur’s a friend I trust. That’s rare.”

“Is he,” Rosie said, emphasizing the words.

Eames threw a look up to the heavens. Arthur swallowed another forkful of spaghetti. Rosie said, “I’m messing with you, Willy,” and ruffled his hair. Eames turned to throw another exasperated look at Arthur, like he was in on it with him.

Arthur realised he’d never seen Eames like this: fond, affectionate, loose and relaxed. On a job there was always the element of danger and Arthur saw it in the line of his shoulders, the glint in his eyes, and appreciated knowing there was someone else who was keeping an eye out, just like he always was. But now Eames was feeding Lily carefully, using a thumb to wipe the food dribbling down her chin, and kicking at his sister’s chair. He looked at home here. It was something Arthur did not know how to process. It felt nonsensically like something inside him, not Eames, had been exposed to the world.

~~~

Arthur, having helped wash the dishes, opened the door to Eames sitting on the front steps. Eames quirked a brow and scooted slightly to the side, so Arthur sat down beside him.

“Thanks for the help with the dishes,” Arthur said pointedly.

“I helped with dinner,” Eames said blithely.

Arthur held off the Barely and instead accused him, “You said you had work here.”

“Did I?” Eames asked, turning towards him slightly. “I remember saying I was busy, and I had things to do here.” Thoughtfully, he decided, “I believe you implied that it was a job, darling.”

“Whatever,” Arthur said, feeling just slightly foolish about sounding like a teenager. “Anyway. I should get back.”

There was a little pause.

“Should you?” Eames asked. “You said you’d…” He made a little humming sound. “Hang around here. Help out with the job.”

“Well,” Arthur said. “There is no job.”

“I could still use some help.” Eames grinned rakishly, then it faded. “It’d only be a few weeks, and then we’d get on with it. I could show you around the city,” he said, looking down suddenly, up at Arthur again inscrutably. He ran his hand through his hair, looking unfairly good in the lamplight, softer, almost more uncertain. “You said you hadn’t seen much of it.”

Arthur didn’t know what he was thinking. He was thinking, though, of how the Cobb job could wait, it wasn’t urgent. How he did perhaps want to go to Saville Row itself, about how the city was grey but curious in the autumn light. How Eames looked in this apartment, easy and familiar and familial, and how perhaps it was strange, surreal, something he’d like to see more of.

He said, “I guess I haven’t.”

~~~

Back in the hotel room, in the shower, he considered what he’d agreed to, which was nothing at all. Rosie had retired to bed, complaining that her back was killing her, and Eames had started to tend to a fussing Lily.

“You don’t have to leave now,” he had told Arthur.

“I don’t want to get in the way,” Arthur said.

Lily sniffled in Eames’s arms. He bounced her a little and looked at Arthur, something fond in it. “You’re never in the way, darling.”

Lily let out a little cry. Arthur said, “Put her to bed.”

Eames had asked, “Do you have a hotel?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” Eames said. Very casually, he said, “I’ll see you soon?”

Arthur said, “I still need a tour guide,” and watched Eames smile. It had felt like more than a goodnight. He stepped out of the shower and changed into soft, silk pyjamas, settled himself into the bed.

The room was smaller than his last one, and it was sleeker, more modern. It had a mounted television and large, floor-to-ceiling windows. Arthur turned on his side and looked out the window at the calm expanse of city lights. At night London wasn’t grey and dreary; at night it was like any other big city. He supposed a couple of weeks here wouldn’t be so bad.

Arthur wondered if Eames was asleep, perhaps collapsed onto the futon, perhaps back in his own bed in his own apartment. He realised he’d essentially agreed to be taken around the city by him. Eames, forger extraordinaire, flirt and friend and bane of Arthur’s life. Taken around like it was–some kind of–like he was stepping out into town with his gentleman caller, or something. Arthur rolled back onto his back and stared up at the dark ceiling.

Probably it was because Eames had thrown him off today with the familyness of it all. Eames was usually sharp-edged like Arthur and usually thrived in loud casinos and bare-knuckled brawls and chaotic dreamscapes, and seeing him today so easy and relaxed, Arthur just hadn’t recovered from it. But Eames would take him to a few overpriced tourist attractions, flirt and be ignored by Arthur, be familiar and uncomplicated to banter with, and then they’d go back to work, to the dynamic Arthur knew and knew well.

~~~

Arthur woke up to his phone ringing. He mumbled something incomprehensible and squinted at the caller ID.

“Eames,” he mumbled.

“Rise and shine!” Eames said chirpily. “Lily woke me up at six so now you’re up too. I’ll see you at the National Gallery at ten.” He hung up.

Arthur checked the time. Six fifteen. Bane of Arthur’s life, constant sigh caught in his throat. He set an alarm blearily and went back to sleep.

At nine fifty seven he was waiting at the entrance for Eames, who turned up at ten fifteen.

“Arthur!” he said. He was wearing a shirt with large orange stripes down the sides, and his linen pants brushed against the floor. His hair was slicked back today.

“You’re late,” said Arthur.

Eames smiled a bit. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up.”

“Why not?”

“I thought I was going to have to drag you from your hotel room,” said Eames. He looked Arthur up and down, slow and considering. “Come on, then.”

Eames wandered from room to room, asking Arthur things like, “Do you like this one?” and watching Arthur closely as he said “No,” and “It’s interesting,” and “I guess.” They passed Vermeer, Titian, Cézanne. Arthur liked Gossart, squinted at Monet, and paused in front of Matisse’s Portrait of Greta Moll. Greta stared somewhere off-right, sleeves rolled up and one elbow leaning against the table. She looked casual and impatient and restless, something about her spirit captured even through the broad brushstrokes.

“It’s like she’s about to speak,” Arthur said. “Like she’s about to say ‘are we done already?’”

Eames huffed a little laugh. Arthur felt him, against his side, a warm bulky breathing presence. Eames always smelled like something light and woodsy, something clean and attractive. “Is that your favourite so far?” he asked.

“Yes,” Arthur said. Eventually, he asked, “What do you like?”

“Hrm,” Eames said. He rubbed a hand against his scruff, the scratchy sound louder in the quiet room. He brought Arthur up the stairs to Room 43. Johan Barthold Jongkind’s River Scene hung there and looked back at them.

Something about the scene was mournful: the darker colours, the singular man over the boat. Boats were on the riverbank and a ship was in the distance, everything bathed in colours that felt like evening. Arthur thought of the end of a long day.

“It’s peaceful,” Eames said.

“It’s lonely,” Arthur said.

They watched the painting.

“Maybe he’s setting off into the sunset,” Eames said. “Or maybe he’s cleaning up and going home.” He made a soft humming sound. “Don’t you wonder? It’s all up to him.”

Later, they went to a kebab shop a few streets down. There were only four tables there and it was dimly lit and smelled a lot like sanitiser, but it was the best kebab Arthur had ever had. Eames rubbed some mayonnaise off his own cheek with his thumb, said smugly, “I knew you’d like it.”

“Uh huh,” said Arthur, unable to speak articulately around a mouthful of delicious doner.

“I’m going to make you love London,” Eames said, self-satisfied. “You’re going to want to come here all the time.”

“Mm-mm,” Arthur said, in lieu of Yeah sure. But I will admit this food is incredible and I might come back just for it.

“So,” Eames said, casually after a few more bites, “how’s Cobb?”

Arthur stiffened, just a bit. Cobb, the reason they’d left each other irritated the last time. “Doing fine,” he said. “With his kids.”

“Working?” Eames asked.

“Eames,” Arthur said warningly.

“He should never work again,” Eames said shortly. “If it were anyone else… I wouldn’t be able to trust them again.”

This was the point in the airport bar where Arthur, head still full of Mal’s manic eyes, her familiar voice, the thought of her children, had snapped, You wouldn’t understand why he did it. Eames had turned cold, said snidely, My well of sympathy ran dry when he nearly drove us insane doing it.

“I know,” was what Arthur said now. If it had been anyone else Arthur would have driven them out of the industry. He stabbed furiously at a chip. “I know.”

Eames watched him but didn’t press it, somehow knew not to press it.

~~~

On Tuesday Eames took him to the British Museum. He spent most of his time pointing out displays that were easier to steal than others. “It’s all okay,” he said to Arthur, “they’re all stolen anyway.” Arthur learned three new ways of getting past CCTV cameras after a museum was closed, watching Eames’ plush mouth murmur illegal ideas delightedly at him, and considered it time well-spent.

On Wednesday he took him to the London Zoo. They spent most of their time with the bats, the rainforest enclosure. It was damp and humid there, made Arthur think of Singapore, or Indonesia. He liked the bats. They were soft, furry things and once in a while they’d swoop over Arthur’s head. Eames enquired after the sloth and the spiders and spent a lot of time watching the rats scampering on the jungle floor.

On Thursday they went to the cinema. (“I thought we were going to Odeon,” Arthur said. He looked down at the dusty carpets and up the water stain he saw on the low ceiling. “Dream bigger,” Eames said, and led him into a little hall with only four faded rows that smelled of stale popcorn.) The opening credits to In A Lonely Place started playing, and Eames settled back, mouthing along happily, “Dix Steele, how are you?” To Arthur, he said, like a well-loved secret, “I used to come here after school.” Arthur thought of a younger Eames in his uniform, amongst these faded seats, large-eyed, wondering, amazed at the screen. Dreaming.

~~~

On Friday Arthur woke up without a call from Eames. Bleary-eyed, he texted him: No touristing today?

Eames replied rosie has checkup 2day gotta take her

Arthur’s fingers hovered over the screen. He typed back Who’s watching Lily?

Eames said, she was gonna come w us but if ur volunteering 2 babysit

Arthur didn’t have anything on, so he said out loud, “Okay.” He typed Okay.

Eames replied ???????? which didn’t make any sense so Arthur got his clothes on and ordered a car over to Rosie’s house. Eames opened the door, Lily at his heels. He squinted at Arthur, squinting a little more, looking a little like Cobb with all the squinting. Arthur considered telling him that, but Eames, who could hold a grudge against dangerous incompetence, would probably not appreciate it very much.

“Ar-fur,” Lily greeted him, while Eames squinted.

This seemed to jolt him into speech. “You’re actually… babysitting.”

Arthur shrugged. “I babysit Cobb’s kids all the time. Hi, Lily.”

Rosie shouted, “Who’s that?”

“Arthur’s come to babysit,” Eames called over his shoulder, then turned back to do more squinting at Arthur.

“Has he!” Rosie said. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s so nice Arthur. Lily hates the doctor’s office, I was already gearing up for a spectacular meltdown… come in. Will, let him in, why are you still out there?”

Eames pressed against the wall for Arthur to enter. Rosie came out, her bump looking even bigger, if that was possible, and started reeling off a list about Lily: lunch, playtime, nap, favourite toys, no sweets after four. “We’ll only be a couple of hours,” she said, “but just in case the waiting is longer…” Arthur nodded and kept up. Eames trailed after them, still quiet.

“Lily, sweetie,” he said, after Rosie had grabbed her keys, thanked Arthur again, and headed out to the car, “be good for Arthur. No messes please, he’ll have a breakdown.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. Eames bent down to kiss her on top of her soft golden head, then straightened up, quite close to Arthur. He still looked vaguely puzzled, like he was trying to figure something out.

“Pizza’s in the fridge. No boys over, young lady,” he said after a moment, the corner of his ridiculous mouth curling up. Arthur rolled his eyes again with emphasis.

“Say bye bye now Lily,” he said, sinking down cross-legged on the carpet with her. She waved up at Eames and tugged at Arthur’s wrist, pointing at the box of blocks she wanted him to unpack for her.

“Don’t miss me too much, darling,” Eames said, walking away.

~~~

Lily was a very charming child, stacking blocks up on top of each other and making noises that were sometimes words at Arthur. “See, Ar-fur,” she said, constantly, waving a hand, so Arthur saw her construct a tall castle-like structure, ride a toy pony crashing through it with Eamesian dramatics. She took her lunch without fuss and watched an episode of Creatures of the Sea fascinatedly after, clapping at dark underwater images of the giant squid. Arthur studied her and thought she had Rosie’s brown curls, and her eyes–Rosie’s eyes, Eames’s eyes, stormy and grey-green and bright with intelligence.

But even very charming children realised that their mother and uncle had been gone for almost two hours, and began to cry about it.

“Oh, Lily,” Arthur said. “I know. They’ll be back soon.”

“Mama,” she sobbed heartrendingly. “Unca Wew.”

Arthur took her in his arms. She went trustingly, but continued to cry. “Do you want to go to the playground, Lily?” She shook her head. “No? Yeah, it’s probably naptime, isn’t it?” He got up and started bouncing her gently like he’d seen Eames do. She wailed and wailed.

It reminded him of Philippa. It reminded him of Philippa, younger and fretful, with Mal saying “Arthur, she hasn’t stopped crying for ages!” and looking close to tears herself. Arthur had stayed with Philippa until she’d stopped crying, her sobbing turning into hiccups, while Mal had snored on the sofa, drooling and relieved of her duties for a blessed few hours. He’d stayed with James, too, and now he stayed with Lily, missing Mal abstractly and tiredly.

She fell asleep, finally, and three and a half hours after they’d left, Eames and Rosie returned. Rosie made noises of gratitude, telling Arthur everything was fine medically, but she also seemed exhausted, going to the room and announcing that she was putting her feet up and no one disturb her until dinner please.

Eames stood there levelling that considering look he’d been using a lot on Arthur lately. “I didn’t know you still babysat Cobb’s kids.”

Eames had known Mal, but distantly; he’d only known her through Cobb and work. Mal had stayed home more after the kids were born. He’d known that Arthur had been her best friend, or at least he’d known they were close. The first job they worked after her death, he’d offered Cobb his condolences, but in a quiet moment he’d also told Arthur he was sorry.

Sometimes Arthur had complained about working with Eames to Mal. Mal had rolled her eyes and said “Oh, Arthur,” and asked for a dossier on him. After looking through it she’d just said, “Oh, Arthur, oh, Arthur,” and from then on would just smile at him teasingly, smile at him like she was happy whenever Arthur complained. If she could see him now, in London, in Eames’s territory, smiling over his niece… but she couldn’t. Whatever thoughts she’d gotten into her ridiculous romantic head, she was gone now, and Arthur was still here.

“Yeah,” Arthur said. Suddenly it felt too warm in the cluttered living room, and he forced himself not to loosen his tie. He needed the coolness of his hotel room.

“We owe you dinner,” Eames said, propped against the wall with his shoulder. His hands were shoved in his jeans; his head was bent, looking up at Arthur in a way that was very unprofessional, very inviting.

“Actually I’m going to head back,” Arthur said, picking up his jacket and avoiding his eyes. “I’ll pick up something on the way.”

“Oh. Hmm.” Eames shoved himself upright and didn’t argue, like Arthur had thought he maybe would. “Okay, Arthur.”

~~~

On Saturday Eames didn’t text him. Arthur lay in bed until eleven, which was unlike him, and ordered himself breakfast. It was an English Breakfast, whatever that meant, and the eggs were kind of runny, which Arthur didn’t like, and the sausages were slightly too salty for his taste. Arthur had gotten used to his English meals over the past couple of days being little places where Eames knew the owners, where he would moan around mouthfuls and try not to blush at Eames watching him do it. Eames knew what he liked, that was what happened when you’d worked with each other coming up six years, and he’d been taken Arthur places he knew Arthur would enjoy.

Eames. Arthur turned his head and groaned into his pillow. This was why he kept his distance. He’d always known Eames meant danger. The bane of Arthur’s life, that’s what he was. It was all very well and good when Mal had been alive and it was a distant, maybe sort of delightful possibility to unravel, maybe in an abandoned warehouse when the rest of the team were taking the day off, maybe celebrating a job well done with whiskey in a dimly lit room…

But now Mal was gone, and Arthur couldn’t forget it, couldn’t forget the day he’d gotten the call and gone blank all over. He’d loved Mal so fully and completely and he hadn’t ever loved anyone like that before her, and he’d always known–so had Mal–that if he allowed himself to, he would love Eames like that, except even fiercer, even fuller, with everything he had inside him. If a call like that came for Eames he would not be able to deal with it. He just wouldn’t.

~~~

On Sunday Eames called. “How do you feel about Camden?” he asked, sort of formally. He hadn’t really asked before. He’d demanded Arthur’s presence at the museum, the gallery, the cinema.

“I don’t know much about Camden,” Arthur told him.

“Would you like to know more?” Eames asked very neutrally.

Arthur took a deep breath. Eames, neutral and asking, and Arthur was in too deep for no. “A tour guide would help.”

Camden was touristy and busy and sunny and noisy, full of bright stalls and small shops that promised a multitude of things from inside its doors. They walked along the market and Arthur peered at colourful little knickknacks that he wanted to take home to either his mantelpiece or Philippa. Eames pored over the covers of books with spines that looked like they were crumbling. Arthur eventually lost him in an antique store and he came out carrying a heavy long bronze giraffe, its neck as long as his arm.

“This reminded me of you, darling! Look at how graceful and slender it is!” he exclaimed to Arthur, who resolutely refused to help him carry it home. Eames called him cruel and impetuously bought a shopping trolley to cart it along.

“You know, I don’t really mean to rag on Cobb,” Eames said later in the day, the giraffe trailing behind him patiently, Arthur pretending it wasn’t there. He caught the look on Arthur’s face and amended, “Or, I do. I really do. It’s just that it’s not just him. It’s other people he’s risking, being in that frame of mind.”

“Yeah, I know,” Arthur said, squinting away from the late afternoon sun and into Eames’s direction. He did know. Eames was full of bullshit that drove Arthur wild for a myriad of reasons, but he was excellent, always professional, and Arthur trusted him with his body and his mind. Perhaps now that Cobb had done what he had, Eames was the only one he trusted with his body and his mind. “You can’t trust him. He put you in danger.”

“He put you in danger, Arthur,” Eames said. He was looking fully at Arthur, storm-eyes steady and eyelashes tinged gold; Arthur swallowed and looked back. “And I’m not very known for playing it safe, but surely you know by now that’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”

Arthur swallowed again.

The moment held.

Eames’ phone rang.

“What? Rose, what?” he said. He looked urgent and intense, capable. Arthur took in a breath as the moment dissipated. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be there.” He hung up and fumbled with his screen. “I think she’s in labour.”

“I’ll stay with Lily,” Arthur said. Eames nodded at him distractedly and gratefully. When the car came he left his trolley behind in his hurry, so Arthur trailed it patiently after himself; Eames turned around and almost collided with him.

“Arthur, you remembered,” he said, grabbing at the handle and smiling at him, the look bright and completely focused. “What would I do without you.”

~~~

Rosie was not in labour. It was false labour, Braxton Hicks contractions, and they returned home in the late evening. Lily had been coaxed to the park, begging Arthur to push her higher and higher on the swings, so she had hardly noticed their absence. She ran up and to her mother, grabbing at her leg. Rosie ruffled her hair and took her hand.

“She’s supposed to be on bed rest,” Eames said. “Rose, get in there right now.”

“I just want this thing out,” Rosie said bleakly, looking down at her belly.

They got her settled in her bedroom and she lay there, complaining once in a while about her back and her feet and her bladder and the general unfairness of the world. Eames, clearly trying to distract her, talked about the nurse who had given him directions to someone else’s room and how he’d entered the room to a wide-eyed woman and her husband, who screamed at him in Italian to leave.

“What are you planning to call him?” Arthur asked, after Eames had exhausted his stories and Rosie looked more exasperatedly amused than frustratedly exasperated.

“Will,” Rosie said, smiling.

Eames frowned. “You know I hate that name.”

“Well if you won’t use it anymore, I might as well give it to this kid,” Rosie said, unperturbed. To Arthur, she said, “William Walliams wasn’t a very good look for Mum and Dad, I’ll give him that.”

Arthur pressed his lips together, stifling the smile, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known Eames’s unfortunate given name. Eames glanced at him, grimaced, and mumbled to Lily, who was sitting on his lap, “Hope your brother stays in there for another week. See how Mama likes that.”

~~~

When Rosie fell asleep, Eames started making dinner. Arthur realised he hadn’t really seen him cook before. He did it like he did most things, extravagant and intuitive, pouring salt and pepper into the pot without measuring it out, swiping gravy off the ladle with a finger and tasting it. He looked over at Arthur while he was doing this. Arthur heaved a sigh, looking heavenward. Eames laughed.

“You’re good with Lily,” Eames said. “She likes you.” Arthur was nodding as Lily drew on a pad, nudging her crayons away from the wood of the table. She was explaining her creations to him, gesticulating wildly.

“I like her,” Arthur said.

“She’s going to miss you,” Eames said offhandedly, ladling food into bowls. “You could visit again.”

Arthur determinedly kept his eyes on Lily’s crayons. “Wouldn’t be safe, both of us coming here more. It wouldn’t be safe for them.”

Eames considered this and visibly dismissed it. “We’re competent. We know how to cover our tracks. You know nobody knows we’re here.”

“Is it really a good idea, when we’re in this business?” Arthur asked.

“So we shouldn’t live our lives at all because of our work, darling?” Eames’s tone was light but there was an undercurrent to it that Arthur recognised from moments like How’s Cobb? Arthur still didn’t look up. He said, “I’m saying we should take precautions because of our work.”

“That seems unfair to us.” Eames sounded firm and Arthur could imagine it, he’d seen Eames go tense before, his eyes sharp and his jaw set. It no longer sounded like they were talking about visiting Lily.

“It’s better than losing people you care about.”

“Ah, Arthur,” Eames said, quietly. “So this is what it’s about.” The temperature of the room had changed. Arthur felt cold.

“Eames,” he said, a very quiet warning.

“I know she’s gone, Arthur, but we’re still here.” Eames’s voice was low and rough.

“Eames. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Mal’s gone,” Eames said, volume rising very slightly, “but I’m here Arthur, and you’re here, and we’re here. Can’t we even talk about–”

“It’s not just that,” Arthur said, looking up. Eames had come closer. The counter separated them, only the counter and nothing but the counter. “I’ll never be able to tell her about it. She was my best friend.” It felt awful saying was, and he hadn’t exactly been able to confide in wild-eyed despondent Dom Cobb, so it was the first time he had said it out loud to someone. He forced the words out anyway. “She was my best friend, and now she’s gone.”

Eames just watched him, eyes creased and all fight gone, looking almost tender. Arthur almost couldn’t stand it. “So you see,” he said, but didn’t know how to finish his sentence.

“So I see,” Eames said anyway.

In the long silence that ensued Lily, perhaps sensing that there was something wrong, started fussing. Eames came around and put bowls on the table. Arthur’s stomach rumbled; he still felt slightly sick. Eames sat beside Lily, opposite Arthur, and started feeding her, talking to her in low, soothing tones. “Sweetheart,” he was saying, “no really, it’s okay, drink this soup, I slaved over it. I learned this recipe from your grandmother, you know. I know you prefer your dad feeding you but he’ll be back soon and for now you’ve got me and my woefully inadequate soup. Sorry about that. Look, Arthur’s eating too.”

Arthur put a spoon to his mouth automatically. But the soup was good and warm and hearty, chicken broth that made him want more. After a while he took another spoonful.

“There, there,” Eames said, “Arthur’s eating too. And he likes it.”

“I like it,” Arthur admitted.

“Look, Lily-girl, your Uncle Will’s done it again,” Eames said. He was talking to Lily still, but his voice was calm and steady, his words nonsensical, glances thrown Arthur’s way as if he was trying to soothe him as well. “Really, Lily, is there anything I can’t do? I’m going to teach you all I know, too, don’t worry. Pick a lock and everything, but don’t tell your mother.”

“Pick a lock,” Lily repeated perfectly.

“Aw, Lil,” Eames said. “What did I just say?”

Arthur wished he didn’t feel better. Eames not pushing, Eames just there, Eames who had cooked him dinner. Eames who was being soothing and sweet, Eames who knew how to love a child, Eames who was being unfailingly patient with him. If he didn’t feel better, then Eames wouldn’t be able to infiltrate his defences like this.

~~~

In his hotel room Arthur called Cobb. London was eight hours ahead, so Cobb sounded chirpy when he asked, “Arthur? What’s wrong?” Voices shrieked in the background.

“Nothing. Eames is finishing up with some work. We’ll be there in about three weeks,” Arthur said.

“That’s fine,” Cobb said. “I told you it wasn’t a rush. Did you call to talk to the kids?”

Arthur hadn’t really, but he found himself saying “Yeah, yeah.” Cobb shouted into the distance, “Arthur’s on the phone!”

James got on first. “Uncle Arthur!” he said. “When are you coming back?”

“Very soon, buddy,” said Arthur. James told him about the Lego set he’d just gotten, and the new kite, and the telescope set. Privately Arthur thought Cobb was spoiling them slightly too much–Mal would never have stood for it–but he supposed as Cobb hadn’t seen them in a year, it was fine.

“It’s my turn!” Philippa was saying from some distance away.

“Bye Uncle Arthur,” James said quickly. “Come back soon.”

“Very soon,” Arthur promised again. Philippa came on. “Uncle Arthur,” she said. “I miss you.”

Arthur loved these children, not only because of Mal, but because he loved these children. He had rocked them both to sleep. James had banged his knee up for the first time and wailed “Uncle Arthur!”, high and pained. Philippa had taken her first steps toward Mal, but then she’d turned unsteadily towards him.

It had been hard for Arthur to visit them over the past year: he admitted this to himself now. Philippa had Cobb’s rare wide sunny smile but she also had Mal’s eyes, her way of tucking her hair back behind her ear. James accidentally spoke French sometimes because Mal had communicated with them almost exclusively in it. When Arthur had visited, he had had to turn away from them a lot so they wouldn’t see his face. It was easier not to visit.

“I miss you, Phil,” he found himself saying. “I’ll see you in about three weeks, I promise.”

“Dad is being weird,” she complained. “He keeps giving us stuff.”

“Shouldn’t turn your nose up at free stuff,” Arthur said.

“He got me a Barbie!” she said. “I’m seven.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Arthur assured her.

She told him about school and her friends and Marie, who dropped by at unexpected times to suspiciously check on Cobb’s parenting skills. Arthur sympathised with her over a particularly strict teacher, told her that an argument with a friend would blow over, and laughed a little over Marie, who was fond of Arthur and still texted him time to time. He said goodbye and told her he loved her. He went to sleep thinking Mal, you did something right. Mal, they’re still here.

~~~

At eight the next morning Arthur called Eames.

“Arthur?” Eames rumbled, voice sleep-rough. “Arthur,” he said, going from sleepy to worried, “are you alright?”

“People keep asking me that,” Arthur said. “Have I not been alright?”

Eames chuckled, warm, in his ear. “Not really, darling,” he said.

“Well,” Arthur said. “I was just wondering if you would like to go out today.”

“Where?” asked Eames.

Arthur had done some research. Eames probably knew this place, but Arthur wanted to take him to it. He sent Eames the location.

“Okay,” said Eames, his voice giving nothing away. “I’ll be there.”

Arthur knew Eames, with all his artist’s soul, loved poetry. Arthur knew that once in a run-through Eames had dreamt up the sea, drifting in a little boat, book in his hand while Arthur had waited out Cobb in another level. Arthur had seen the painting Eames liked in the Tate.

Arthur knew this wasn’t close, but he turned up at the canal at two. Eames was already there, inscrutable under his shades, wearing a bright pink shirt with palm trees on it, loose pants that were probably only held up with suspenders and luck. “What is this place, darling?” he asked.

“It’s a small library on a boat,” Arthur said, shrugging. “A community thing. I thought you’d like to read, maybe. Later there’ll be kids from school. But it’s quiet in the mornings and afternoons, it’s out of the way.” On the boat there was a wooden platform with sunchairs and pillows, to read. The sun streamed wispily down on them.

“Hmm,” Eames said. He ducked into the boat. Arthur waited, listening to the animated voices inside: Eames and the woman who owned the little library.

Fifteen minutes later he came out, shades off and with a slim blue book in his hand. He was grinning. “Arthur,” he said, “do you know what they have?” Arthur didn’t get to know what they had, because Eames leapt onto the platform and threw himself down onto the platform, sliding a cushion under his head. He opened the book up.

Arthur ducked inside the boat and smiled at the woman. Books littered the counter, the shelves, the carpet, her arms; books clearly well-beloved and well taken care of. He spent his time selecting something familiar, smiling at Khadijah–her tag read–when she said, nodding at his choice of book, “Classic.”

Settling down in the deck chair beside Eames and looking out at the canal, Arthur observed the trees in the park on one canal bank, and back gardens of houses on the other. His gaze drifted down. Eames was so still and heavy-lidded Arthur would have thought he was asleep, if it hadn’t been turning a page every so often.

He looked calm, peaceful. He did not look lonely. Arthur looked down at his own book.

And wishes, had he any?

Just his sigh, accented,

Had been legible to me.

And was he confident until

Ill fluttered out in everlasting well?

Out of the corner of his eye, Eames placed his slim volume of poetry down on his chest. “Do you want to hear a bit of it?” he asked.

“Sure,” Arthur said.

Eames picked it up again and began to read, voice low like a secret.

“If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,

don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty

of lives and whole towns destroyed or about

to be. We are not wise, and not very often

kind. And much can never be redeemed.”

He did hesitate then, looking up at Arthur, something indecipherable in his eyes. Arthur kept still, head slightly turned toward him.

“Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this

is its way of fighting back, that sometimes

something happens better than all the riches

or power in the world. It could be anything,

but very likely you notice it in the instant…”

Eames took a breath and continued steadily, “In the instant

when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case.

Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid

of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.”

Eames stopped reading. A moment later, he turned the page, eyes still firmly on the book.

The sky above him was clear and he looked so safe and solid, his large hands steady, his jaw so well-cut. He looked painfully handsome, lying there like a figure in a painting, one of the classics lovingly rendered. He’d waited for Arthur and he was waiting more, patient with it and letting Arthur come to him.

“Eames,” Arthur said, rough.

“Arthur,” Eames said gently. “It’s really all right.”

Arthur was afraid. He knew he was. He wanted to be. Joy would never be a crumb for him. When he allowed himself to love Eames he would do it fully and completely. This was a scary, scary thing. The call in the middle of the night, the things the people you loved could leave behind. Arthur knew the real fact of the matter was that even so, it was too late for him.

Eames’s phone rang.

Arthur wondered why this kept happening.

“Rosie,” he said, getting to his feet. “Okay, okay, okay, calm down and give me fifteen.” To Arthur he shot a wry look, the moment between them quietly broken, and said, “This could finally be it.”

~~~

It was it. Eames called an hour later to inform Arthur these were real contractions, not just fancily named ones. Lily was louder today, sucking her thumb and saying “Ar-fur,” tottering over to be picked up, as if she was already worried that attention from grownups would now irrevocably be split between her and a new sibling.

Arthur made her dinner and let her watch another episode of Creatures of the Sea. She watched the goblin shark with a measure of fascination, Arthur narrowing his eyes at the creepy looking creature, and then Arthur put her to bed. Beside the bed sat a copy of Frog and Toad Are Friends, which Arthur picked up and read to her. Outside, the evening drew on, and Arthur’s voice grew hoarse. He wanted to finish the story anyway.

“Toad was very pleased to have it,” he concluded finally, and realised she was asleep. He smiled slightly, pulling up the blankets around her, feeling intensely fond. Switching off the lights he said, “Night, Lily.”

He was tired too, only realising it after having settled on the sofa and yawning, loud and satisfying. Between one moment and the next, he had fallen asleep.

At around six am his phone rang. “He’s here!” Eames announced. “Healthy as anything and crying like–well, he’s crying like a baby. Rosie’s good, she’s sleeping. You and Lily can come in a couple of hours. Darling, wait till you meet him. He’s perfect.”

He sounded like Cobb, calling Arthur up once, then twice a couple of years later. The pride in his voice. Mal, on the phone next, exhausted but chattering to Arthur about Phil’s little thumbs and her little toes, James’s wrinkled pink smile. Arthur hadn’t been there for either of their births, had been off working, but he’d been there for Philippa’s first steps, there when James had fallen down. His best friend was gone, but Arthur would always have that.

“I’m sure you think he is,” Arthur said. “He’s named after you, isn’t he?”

“Darling,” Eames said, sounding wildly delighted that Arthur was flirting back.

“We’ll be there in a couple of hours,” Arthur told him. He put down the phone and couldn’t stop smiling.

~~~

There were nerves in the pit of his stomach. It was like he’d made a decision, or like the decision had been made for him. Eames laying gently back, his large hands holding the little book, reading low and smooth, everything Arthur could now admit to himself he had wanted to come home to for some time now. The sun in his hair and his eyes lovely as the sea. Whatever happened, Arthur would have had this.

Lily woke fretting about Rosie, but was quickly calmed when Arthur informed her they were going to see her mother and her little brother. “Wew,” she tried out, tugging on her shoes.

“Yes, Lily, Wew,” Arthur said, bundling her safely into Rosie’s car.

They reached the hospital and Eames was waiting for them outside. His hair looked sort of greasy, sort of like he’d run his hands through it many times. He looked like he hadn’t slept. Arthur kind of wanted to kiss him, and thought perhaps he might.

He stopped short when Eames said, “My parents are here.” He looked wry. “They thought they couldn’t make it, but they got here hours early. Anyway, they just arrived. Heads up.”

That was all the warning Arthur got before the doors opened again and two people Arthur assumed were Eames’s parents came hurrying out. Robert Walliams was short and pleasant-faced, smiling, and Cora Walliams was taller, still golden-haired, assessing Arthur and Lily with a look in her eyes Arthur would almost describe as shrewd. They stopped short when they reached Eames.

“This is Arthur,” Eames said very formally, but he raised an eyebrow at Arthur like he was amused. “Arthur, this is my mum and dad.”

“Arthur,” Robert said affably. Cora said, “Thank you for taking care of Lily, Arthur.”

“It was great, she’s lovely,” Arthur said, setting Lily down so she could toddle up to her grandparents.

“You work with Arthur, son?” Robert asked, sounding very British and dad-like. He reached forward with a hand.

Arthur nodded, taking it. “On and off,” he said, feeling strangely nervous.

“Will’s has never brought a friend back before,” Cora said, sounding very like Rosie, looking at Arthur with Eames’s gimlet-eyed gaze.

“Can’t use that name anymore,” Eames said, “now that Rosie’s stolen it for baby William.”

“But you’ll always be the first William, dear,” Cora said reassuringly. Eames sighed. “Anyway, Arthur,” she said, placing her arm in his. “Where are you from?”

She kept up a steady stream of conversation as they re-entered the hospital, all the way up to Rosie’s room, whereupon she started cooing over her grandson. Lily ran to her mother. Arthur, slightly stunned, realised she had coaxed out of him how many siblings he had, his mother’s career, and how he felt about London (and probably also how he felt about Eames). He realised quite suddenly this was where Eames had begun to learn to wheedle information out of people. Exchanging a look with Eames, who looked slightly apologetic, he approached Rosie’s side.

Rosie, flushed and tired and triumphant, handed baby William over to him.

“Isn’t he perfectly darling?” she asked.

“Very,” Arthur agreed, because baby William lay sleeping and red-faced in his arms, indeed perfectly darling.

“And you’ll come back and visit him of course,” Rosie said, looking up at him.

“Of course,” he promised.

“Eames will make sure of it,” said Cora, perfectly sure herself.

“Only if Arthur wants,” Eames said patiently.

Cora smiled over at Arthur like she could see ten years into the future. “Arthur’s smart,” she said. “He knows good things are worth keeping.”

Then Charlie, Rosie’s husband, arrived in a bustle of wild hair and riotous happiness, and Lily started crying at the sight of this interloper of a brother taking up her father’s attention, and everything became very bustling and extremely chaotic.

Arthur backed away a bit, into the waiting room, to give them some space. He waited there a little while with the magazines before Eames came out.

“Sorry about my mother,” he said, joining Arthur by the water cooler.

“She’s very like you,” Arthur told him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Arthur,” Eames said, abruptly, turning towards him, “everyone’s here. So they don’t need me. I’ll probably stay a few more days, but we can go do the job soon.”

“The job,” Arthur repeated blankly.

Eames frowned. “The one you came all the way here for. Arthur, I know I’ve brought you around and… tried to woo you…” He stood up, restless.

��Tried to woo me,” Arthur repeated. “Woo me.”

“Woo you, court you, take you around town.” Eames tilted his head, caught Arthur’s eyes. The hospital noises around them faded into the background. Earnest, tender, Eames said, “But I know it’s been hard. I didn’t mean to pressure you, darling. I know you’ve been grieving. We can do the job. You can take all the time you need.”

“Ah,” Arthur said. They would go do the job in a few days. Then what? Would they fall back into that pattern, bickering and push-and-pull, glances at Eames’s back and a sandwich just the way he liked it on his desk, checking on whether he was alive from across the world? He tried to summon the bravery he’d felt on the way to the hospital.

“Darling, it’s okay,” Eames said uncertainly, watching him again. Lower, like a secret, he said, “I really can wait.”

Arthur knew he could wait. He had waited. He could read the truth in the questioning bow of Eames’s bottom lip: he would wait. But if you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. It flooded into Arthur's stomach, his lungs, his heart. Mal, you’re gone, but look at me, I’m still here. You’re gone and you’ll never see how happy I will be but it’s enough that I know what you’d say because I knew you so well. It’s enough that your children live and I love them. You love and you lose. You love again.

“Well I can’t,” Arthur said, so he took Eames’s lovely, surprised face into his hands, giving into his eyes, an endless sky and an unending river. He reached up to kiss him.

~~~

“I have a confession,” Arthur said, “This job… it’s a favour to Cobb.”

Eames kept his gaze on him. “Oh,” he said. “Another of Dominic Cobb’s messes.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said.

“Are you?” Eames said consideringly. He leaned in slowly closer, murmuring it into the shell of Arthur’s ear. “How sorry? Will you make it up to me?”

Arthur leaned back. “You knew,” he said accusingly.

“I suspected, so I asked him,” Eames said, grinning. “So you’ve been manipulating me all this time. All of this has just been because Cobb owed someone and you feel you owe Cobb.”

“Not all of it,” Arthur said. “Not all of it.”

Behind Eames the sky, pinkish blues, was turning into morning. They were only a matter of hours away from LA and it felt like it, felt like hovering over wide plains and wider homes. Arthur had a hotel room booked for them. It was old in a way that suggested comfort, slightly faded carpets but wood paneling to die for.

He had a hotel room booked and James to fly a kite with, Phil to listen to intently as she grew up quicker than he entirely liked. Eames would teach her how to pick a lock. When the job was done maybe they’d go back to see Lily and Will and Rosie for a bit.

“I haven’t seen much of LA, you know, darling,” Eames said, nuzzling behind his ear. He was lying, but Arthur smiled anyway. “I could use a tour guide.”

~~~

To Know Just How He Suffered Would Be Dear, Emily Dickinson

Don’t Hesitate, Mary Oliver

Frog and Toad Are Friends, Arnold Lobel

#well I am done #hesitation #snsk #arthur/eames #arthur x eames #inception fic #inception #wtf

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