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Jan. 5th, 2011 07:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
loadedparadoxAuthor's Notes: This is another part of Arthur's backstory for the verse I've been call "All on Black", which if the dark verse based on the pic with Arthur, Eames and Ariadne. As always, nothing I write in here is binding on any of the others in the verse, and if those in the verse see changes they would like made, please feel free to tell me and I will change and adapt.
Warning: Violence and mild sexual language.
Limbo was something Arthur knew of in theory but had never personally experienced. He felt it was to be avoided, unseen, untouched. If you planned right, learned everything and kept to the plan, Limbo never came into the equation. Until the Fischer Inception. Now Limbo, finding a way in - and more importantly a way out - had become Arthur's life.
He talked with chemists from all over the world, seeking a way to monitor the levels, to keep track of the brain waves and how far one went down into the dreams. For weeks on end he visited dream dens, experiencing different types of sedation while build and tearing down so many dreams. Tearing down so much as he built the walls around himself from memories and dreams.
It was during one of these that she first came to him. All sleek lines and coy smiles, her hair a tousled mass of curls that never seemed to be out of place, and yet carried the air of one that had just tumbled out of bed, content and replete and definitely satisfied. The same with that cat that ate the canary smile as she moved into his path, fingernails brushing along the back of his neck.
"Arthur, it's good to see you again."
She was meant to be dead. Ariadne had told him she was dead but there she was, form fitting satin caressing a body he knew too well for the best friend of her missing husband. It wasn't that he had ever overstepped bounds, but in those days when he'd first known her and Dominic, Arthur had found her intriguing. Sensual, beautiful, charming and so sweetly kind to him, he often wondered if the way they had flirted in those early days was the cause for all the times her shade her abused him as she manifested from Dom's mind.
Now there was no gun in sight. No weapon he could see. Still Arthur tensed, acid churning in the pit of his stomach, knowing what was to come. It might be later than sooner, but it always came.
"You're dead."
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, that thick bile rising in the back of Arthur's throat.
"Says the man who brings me into his dreams." Her fingertips trailed along his jaw, brushing up to trace the breadth of Arthur's lower lip. "That's why I know the ways you used to look at me, the things you thought of me." Her supple body swayed, brushing against his own lean, suited form. "Is that why you haven't found my darling husband yet, Arthur? Worried when you do, he'll know all those things you said, the way you looked at me and the moments when you lay there, naked and needy, trying not to touch yourself until you gave in, whispering my name in the dark?"
Arthur's body trembled, anger and lust coursing through him in the same moment. He wanted to deny those words, fighting not to react and yet even in his own dream, he couldn't help the way that sultry voice, even the unspoken threat of violence to come left him aching.
"I would worry if you weren't anything more than guilt," he muttered softly, hands balling into tight fists to keep himself from grabbing Mal, pulling her flush to him. "You have no power than that I give you."
Yet there she was, body warm and sleek against his own, mouth curving into a soft pout even as one hand moved up, toying with his tie as she slowly pulled it tighter.
"I have all the power in here, Arthur. You want me to. Out there," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Out there you can compartmentalize it all, insist that the world bow to your whim, so many fearful of your moods and mouth. In here though, here you want this."
Leaning up, her mouth hovered over his, nearly taking a kiss as she spoke. "Out there you're in charge but here you welcome the one thing I can bring you.'
It all came at once. The sudden tightening of his tie until breathing was no longer an option, the sound of the gun echoing in his ears even as pain flared through him, seeming to burn through flesh and blood at the same time. Only her hold on his tie kept Arthur from collapsing.
"Out there you allow yourself no pain, Arthur." The tone and inflection of her voice never changed as she ground the heated muzzle of the gun against the wound. "You've shut yourself out, locking yourself away. In here though you still feel. In here I make you alive," she murmured, voice fairly purr. "I am your life, Arthur. Ask and I'll take you to Dom. I'll bring you to him. Or we can make our own life, you and I, and you'll never have to lock yourself away again."
It wasn't Arthur that pulled the trigger that brought him out of the dream. Nor had Mal fired again, stunned as Arthur dropped like a puppet with cut strings, held only by Mal's hand on his tie.
Bolting upright on the bed, Arthur scrabbled to get the needle out of his arm, desperate to get away from it all. Away from Mal. Away from the pain he swore he could still feel throbbing through his leg.
And away from the sight of Ariadne, gun held in a teacup hold, eyes narrowed, and a small smile playing on her lips as she gleefully put the bullet through Arthur's head.
Warning: Violence and mild sexual language.
Limbo was something Arthur knew of in theory but had never personally experienced. He felt it was to be avoided, unseen, untouched. If you planned right, learned everything and kept to the plan, Limbo never came into the equation. Until the Fischer Inception. Now Limbo, finding a way in - and more importantly a way out - had become Arthur's life.
He talked with chemists from all over the world, seeking a way to monitor the levels, to keep track of the brain waves and how far one went down into the dreams. For weeks on end he visited dream dens, experiencing different types of sedation while build and tearing down so many dreams. Tearing down so much as he built the walls around himself from memories and dreams.
It was during one of these that she first came to him. All sleek lines and coy smiles, her hair a tousled mass of curls that never seemed to be out of place, and yet carried the air of one that had just tumbled out of bed, content and replete and definitely satisfied. The same with that cat that ate the canary smile as she moved into his path, fingernails brushing along the back of his neck.
"Arthur, it's good to see you again."
She was meant to be dead. Ariadne had told him she was dead but there she was, form fitting satin caressing a body he knew too well for the best friend of her missing husband. It wasn't that he had ever overstepped bounds, but in those days when he'd first known her and Dominic, Arthur had found her intriguing. Sensual, beautiful, charming and so sweetly kind to him, he often wondered if the way they had flirted in those early days was the cause for all the times her shade her abused him as she manifested from Dom's mind.
Now there was no gun in sight. No weapon he could see. Still Arthur tensed, acid churning in the pit of his stomach, knowing what was to come. It might be later than sooner, but it always came.
"You're dead."
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, that thick bile rising in the back of Arthur's throat.
"Says the man who brings me into his dreams." Her fingertips trailed along his jaw, brushing up to trace the breadth of Arthur's lower lip. "That's why I know the ways you used to look at me, the things you thought of me." Her supple body swayed, brushing against his own lean, suited form. "Is that why you haven't found my darling husband yet, Arthur? Worried when you do, he'll know all those things you said, the way you looked at me and the moments when you lay there, naked and needy, trying not to touch yourself until you gave in, whispering my name in the dark?"
Arthur's body trembled, anger and lust coursing through him in the same moment. He wanted to deny those words, fighting not to react and yet even in his own dream, he couldn't help the way that sultry voice, even the unspoken threat of violence to come left him aching.
"I would worry if you weren't anything more than guilt," he muttered softly, hands balling into tight fists to keep himself from grabbing Mal, pulling her flush to him. "You have no power than that I give you."
Yet there she was, body warm and sleek against his own, mouth curving into a soft pout even as one hand moved up, toying with his tie as she slowly pulled it tighter.
"I have all the power in here, Arthur. You want me to. Out there," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Out there you can compartmentalize it all, insist that the world bow to your whim, so many fearful of your moods and mouth. In here though, here you want this."
Leaning up, her mouth hovered over his, nearly taking a kiss as she spoke. "Out there you're in charge but here you welcome the one thing I can bring you.'
It all came at once. The sudden tightening of his tie until breathing was no longer an option, the sound of the gun echoing in his ears even as pain flared through him, seeming to burn through flesh and blood at the same time. Only her hold on his tie kept Arthur from collapsing.
"Out there you allow yourself no pain, Arthur." The tone and inflection of her voice never changed as she ground the heated muzzle of the gun against the wound. "You've shut yourself out, locking yourself away. In here though you still feel. In here I make you alive," she murmured, voice fairly purr. "I am your life, Arthur. Ask and I'll take you to Dom. I'll bring you to him. Or we can make our own life, you and I, and you'll never have to lock yourself away again."
It wasn't Arthur that pulled the trigger that brought him out of the dream. Nor had Mal fired again, stunned as Arthur dropped like a puppet with cut strings, held only by Mal's hand on his tie.
Bolting upright on the bed, Arthur scrabbled to get the needle out of his arm, desperate to get away from it all. Away from Mal. Away from the pain he swore he could still feel throbbing through his leg.
And away from the sight of Ariadne, gun held in a teacup hold, eyes narrowed, and a small smile playing on her lips as she gleefully put the bullet through Arthur's head.
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Date: 2011-01-16 06:21 pm (UTC)HA! That was me. I was all... Eh, I don't know. Looks cool but Ellen and Leo? Hrm. Then my best friend pushed and now I'm all OMG YAY. I have two OCs from it but they don't get out a lot a lot.
Yeah. He didn't just go: Huh, I think this man is wrongfully accused so, no matter what, I'll stick by him, and trust he didn't kill her, and believe him about this architecture kid, and go into something nearly impossible for him. Yeah, there's more to that than just because he was wrongfully accused.
Let Mal be violent any time you want. Arthur will suck it up as his own personal guilt, and shoot himself to get away :D And that is how I see her in his head. He wants to make it up to her but he blames himself for not being there too.
Awww. I can see that and its sweet, in a great, twisted way.
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Date: 2011-01-16 06:28 pm (UTC)Yeah exactly. I was thinking: um. Okay looks...pretty? But not much else. And then :/ Well as you can see. ;; /taken over by the movie
AHAHAHA yes I think some people dislike Inception because we don't get enough character handed to us on a silver platter, but I enjoy what we can extrapolate, sensibly, from what we were given which upon rewatches happens to be quite a lot!
Poor Arthur all the same. I APOLOGIZE for her....Arthur......kinda. :/ KINDA.
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Date: 2011-01-16 06:52 pm (UTC)Right, so breathing now. *pets them*
I love that you can take comments and looks and all and make it more. Make it your own and not be wrong and still have all that space to be right.
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Date: 2011-01-16 06:56 pm (UTC)Yes me too! I love it...!
/finally logs into Philippa