disgruntled audio (forward-dated to afternoon)

[dropkick]

][ off network ][

July 1st
- Neil ...?

keep thinking should talk to him more...not that we're related, not that the resemblance should mean anything outside of a dream or even in one for that matter (fabrications, tricks) but there's something off? maybe not the word I was looking for - keep an eye out anyway

- maps // network history (planes ships cars transport) //
- memory

August 12th
- There ARE worse things than being handcuffed to Nash
- I take it back sort of
- find out how many Arthurs there are in this city...

September 30th
04-07 20:29:00***
541
1.48219178
31

October 7th
- Ariadne gone - confirmed by Eames. To date (that we know of) there have been three individually conscious stays, each one first identified by lack of memory (later also sustained.) She--
- Eames is-- has-- c-- has left twice. First when I was here but don't remember. Could have been me but this not being a dream it could have been anyone couldn't it? He should know anyway. Second time while I was here. Winter.
- Twice - me (only remember this time.)
- Dom twice I--
- Mal but never Mal just--

October 10th
- Yusuf more secluded in basement than usual? seen Rhada more -
- City functions as usual...if you can call it that

][ a u d i o ][

[ already deeply annoyed. deeply. no need to go deeper. and yet... ]

I like my clothes, but I wasn't looking for it to be a mutual thing. And--

--what the he--

[ --cut off by more muffled curse since someone just had to duck an especially violent bedside lamp. ]



[ooc: house is not a home....and the clothes do not make the man...except today they do. Kind of. Anyway one more thing: always thank you for dealing with the spotty tagging / blind turtle's pace ;_; abuh appreciation all around...and again thank you to whoever gifted ._. /hopes you see this.... ]

Comments

[hexappeal]

Hey, Weenie. you sound distressed! need someone to come save you?

1/2 lmfsldiojksd

[dropkick]

[ THIS IS JUST a moment on his end of B(((((( before he decides to answer....

[dropkick]

...but not before there's some minor shuffling heard and muttering. ]

Save's a strong word. I prefer 'help'. But I doubt it'd do any good...

[hexappeal]

[What a tough life! Lamps trying to destroy you, cougars harassing you and not in a good way... sigh. :(]

So what you're saying is wait until you scream and you agree that you need someone to carry you out princess-style?

[dropkick]

[ Tough does not begin to describe it. He can't coordinate his tie with his socks today. Not that he could put a tie on to begin with what with his jacket having gone straitjacket. It pains him.

...mild exaggeration. But only mild. 8(

IN ANY CASE, a half laugh half snort and ALL dry as the Sahara: ]

Princess-style. What's that? Sack of potatoes?

[hexappeal]

[HOPE THE SOCKS ARE EACH A DIFFERENT COLOR, TBH.]

Have you never seen a Disney movie or a really buff superhero carry a gal? Honestly.

[dropkick]

[ HE'S BOUND UP NOT BLIND....well not this time...cough... ]

Ohhhh....guess I was thinking of that as bridal. Kinda the same though...right.

Well. No one's carrying me that way.

[ Barring physical incapacitation, which this is Not.

Again, yet. ]

[hexappeal]

Sort of.

but I'm not calling that because it should be me that is carried like that. at some point. maybe. I don't know.

plus, I totally don't think you'd have a choice in how you're being carried if you're being saved. I'm not going to stop mid-fleeing to ask your opinion on how you'd like to be carted off into the sunset.

[WELP.]

[dropkick]

Assuming there is a sunset.

[ Pauuuuuuuuuuuse... ]

Anyway. Been assaulted by your light fixtures today?

[hexappeal]

Moonlight. High noon. Clouds.

No, we get along just fine.

[dropkick]

Multiple choice. Fair enough.

Lucky you. And your clothes haven't tried strangling you from the sound of it. [ Sighs, pause, and if he COULD he would pinch the brow of his nose but as he cannot, it's just a sigh. ]

[hexappeal]

No more than usual, anyway.

Don't be so sad. I am sure if you sweet-talk them they will stop trying to murder you.

[dropkick]

Have any suggestions?

I don't talk to my clothes very often.

[hexappeal]

Tell them you appreciate them and what they do for you, geez. it isn't that difficult!

[dropkick]

[ A MINUTE OR FIVE LATER. ]

I think it redoubled its efforts. Maybe it'd prefer it in French.

[hexappeal]

Is that where the pieces are from? You don't want to offend them!

(Do you need me to save you, yet?)

[dropkick]

My French is flawless. Not too worried there.

[ Cuts off then the feed comes on again in a minute or so.

A sigh not QUITE of defeat okay well maybe kind of, punctuated with a somehow audible frown. ]

Didn't seem to work, for whatever reason.

Save? It's a curse. Don't think there's any saving to be done for it.

[hexappeal]

Try not to be intimidated. Like with an animal?

And please. never tell someone that people categorize as a "super-heroine" that she can't do something like that. HONESTLY.

[dropkick]

[ noncommittal sound....ahem ]

Pretty sure being a super anything doesn't make you more likely in being able to override a curse, but I'll try anything once.

...almost anything.

[hexappeal]

Try me.

[diastereomer]

[ For all the scary shit going down in the City, Yusuf could very well have turned into a ghost- it would at least explain his punctuated absences. Noise doesn't travel through the floorboards too clearly, during the day at least (at night, if Pancake is restless and Yusuf is listening, he can sometimes hear the scrape of the wobbly dog's nails on the floor), but it would seem there is a ruckus in the living room.

So Yusuf is heading up the stairs to investigate! ]

[dropkick]

[ The ruckus, air quotes optional, has made the transition of Man in Straitjacket Trying to Maneuver Network Device (unsuccessfully) to Man in Straitjacket Pacing a smoking hole in the floor, which would in X amount of time have him falling through it no doubt. As it is, he's nowhere near it yet, and when he hears the telltale creak of the steps sans animal paws, he glances over, not pausing in his stride. ]

Fancy meeting you here. [ He deadpans. It's not sour because he's got no reason to be sour at Yusuf, and even if he had, at the moment he's more surprised than anything else to see the cook slash chemist slash fill in the blank. The almost imperceptible tilt of his head is all the indication of this however. Well, that and the fact that he said hello at all. So two things.

It would be a perfectly ordinary exchange if not for the destroyed lamp a few feet yonder and the state of Arthur's jacket. ]

[diastereomer]

[ Well Yusuf doesn't fancy an X shaped skylight, so he's glad Arthur has the good sense (ingrained sense of self-preservation?) to stop when Yusuf makes his first appearance in days. ] Indeed...

[ If Yusuf didn't have a better grasp on who Arthur was as a person, he'd think the other was practicing a little self-love- of the congratulatory, or consoling kind, not the awkward we're all men here but c'mon why are you doing that in the living room kind.

But, Arthur giving himself a hug sounds just about as odd as it looks, and so Yusuf has to assume this isn't a practice in improving one's self-worth.

He points, which is very impolite, but what's Arthur gonna do- sic his jacket sleeves on him? Hug him to deat- okay, no, that's actually terrifying. ] Uh, what's going on here?

[dropkick]

[ Put nothing past a man betrayed by his own bespoke commitment. Ex commitment.

But hugging anyone to death isn't at the top of the list - not even one belonging to Arthur at his most annoyed, which it's worth noting this is not. Vaguely resigned already, vexed...well.

Reflexive, thoughtless, he tries for an irritable (probably rude) gesture with his arms, finds his arms still predictably uncooperative, opts for a sandpaper stare: what does it look like?

He clears his throat, meant to be long suffering but sounds just kind of silly, the thin upward twist of his voice as Pancake waddles across his feet and almost causes an Arthur demolition. ]

Quality time with my wardrobe.

[ Arthur sits down more heavily than he would ordinarily, then thinks better of the potential for a put-out couch and stands back up, awkwardly. ]

What d'you think? Curse.

[ The twitchy quality of his head nodding once at the device on a table at the back of the couch emphasizes it: the network having various examples of the Difficulty du Jour. ]

[diastereomer]

[ That Pancake's innocent waddling actually poses a threat when Arthur is irritatedly hugging himself sets a small grin to unfolding on Yusuf's face- its the first one that's been there in while. Yusuf moves into the room, nodding toward the shards of a smashed lamp not too far from Arthur's foot. ] Is this a bipolar curse or did you just deem the lamp too ugly to be tolerated any longer?

[ A remote flies off the table and attempts to take Arthur out, aiming for his knee but flying into the sofa cushion when Arthur steps out of the way. Obviously, he's been dodging vicious household objects for some time now. Yusuf gives the livingroom a cautious once over before moving closer, ] Would you like some help?

[dropkick]

It is too ugly to be tolerated. At all. But it's collateral damage.

[ He scowls his way through the words, noting the thin hint of a smile on the basement-dweller's face. Several times he has considered pointing out to Yusuf that he could join the living rest of them - that being two questionable men and the menagerie gathered from subsequent others. But each of these times has been cut short by deciding Yusuf knows there is an empty room but persists in his basement possibly more than before.

Arthur doesn't pretend to understand it aside from a sympathy for liking one's own space, more often related to a whole separate abode, which the basement comes close to. If it has something more lately to a who than a what, it's none of his business. He strongly suspects he would not be argued on that, and if Yusuf has need or want of a more intimate ear, the reality is that Eames has that role sewn up. If this was the real...no...if this was their realm, Arthur would only half joke that Yusuf can't afford another friend anyway. That their business is made of loners is no happenstance.

Or so it seems from where Arthur perpetually stands. In his head.

At the moment, outside of said head, he is about to add something else - not before casting a withering look at the buried remote - when Yusuf offers his help. Arthur debates. Quickly.

Then the coffee table rushes toward him and he has just enough time to pull his legs up, a huddled crab on the sofa, brow furrowed and threatening permanence. ]

I'd say yes, except I'm not sure how you would. Wait long enough though and we'll find out if it's indiscriminate wanton violence or just really hates [ my OCD furniture arrangement, he thinks tonelessly ] me.

[diastereomer]

[ Was is more apt here, but arguing tenses adds an unnecessary element of seriousness to Arthur's rather silly situation.

If the topic ever came up, Yusuf wouldn't accept the room upstairs for a multitude of, what he would call, already apparent reasons- it's smaller than the one adjoining the basement, his work is in the basement and the life of a scientist is one that often conflicts with "normal" circadian rhythms, he's already got his things set up downstairs and it'd be more of a hassle to move them than would really be worth it...

There would be no reason to mention that it feels more stable being in his makeshift den, surrounded by things that seem familiar when by all means they really shouldn't. Coping mechanisms are all well and good, but Yusuf couldn't define what exactly he's feeling when he finds long brown hairs hiding under his pillows and leftover doodles in his notebooks because Ariadne couldn't be bothered to run upstairs and get her own. Suddenly those things were meaningful, memories of a specific diving line where before they'd been reminders of something new.

So instead, he chalks it up to the other two men being chumps and choosing to traipse up and down two flights of stairs when Yusuf only has to deal with one. ]

We could always- [ He doesn't want to cause Arthur any undue heart problems by suggesting that they possibly cut him out of his overly affectionate jacket, but that is an option here. However, it would seem the sentient furniture has another idea, and Yusuf can't help the amused snort at the other being backed into the corner of the sofa by a menacing coffee table. There is a simple answer here, and Yusuf is going to try it out, bodily harm be damned.

Yusuf plops his ass down on that coffee table.

Now where were we? ] Attempt a wardrobe change? It stands to solve at least one of your problems.

1/many

[signatures]

is this your idea of a joke

[signatures]

what did you do to the door

and again this time audio since that text didnt turn out so well

[dropkick]

Nothing! Why're you accusing me off the bat?

[signatures]

it wont budge

[dropkick]

You turning it the wrong way?

[ FLAT TONE FLAT. ]

action / audio????

[signatures]

[ this would be eames' shout of pain

because the stupid door just slammed on his fingers!!!

All that work and still didn't actually make it inside of the rowhouse. ]

action / audio????!!!!!111

[dropkick]

[ Arthur has ambled to the front door and he doesn't touch it (not that he could with his hands and his feet aren't nearly so deft) but he winces as he hears Eames' yell. ]

What'd you do?!

[ IN A FLATTERING LIGHT that could be construed as ARE YOU OKAY but really he's got his own problems. He's never before appreciated his hands more - suspects he's losing feeling in both pinkies. Not that it matters...too much. ]

AUDIO FOR NOW?????

[signatures]

[ There once was a time when Eames broke a hand and another where he was forced to feel it happening all over again, one event outside the realm of the City and the other caused by it. This, at least, doesn't feel as bad as that, but it does hurt, a throbbing sense to it that has him shaking his hand vigorously at the wrist, light slapping sounds of his fingers hitting each other with each quick swing. ]

Will you open the door?

[ He tires of your trifling bs Mister Arthur it's true.

Even if your voice sounds slightly too far away apart from the device to be reasonably keeping the door shut. ]

interrupting fawn

[dropkick]

ewjha?

audio;

[skintoskin]

[He's trying not to smile, becasuse he knows it will be heard in his voice if he does.]

Guess you're having one of those days, bro...

audio; <3!!!!

[dropkick]

You can laugh.

[ he couldn't be any more deadpan but he really does mean it; he's on the verge of laughing himself if he's honest, if only because every time he thinks the City's done surprising him, it does this. ]

audio; <3!!!!<3 Heee!

[skintoskin]

Yeah, I could, but that'd be mean, caussssssssssssssssssse...

I take it you're being attacked by your furniture?

audio; between hurricanes and all else its like TAG? WHAT'S THAT? i hope u r ok wherever u r ;;

[dropkick]

Furniture. Clothing.

Pretty sure the ceiling's next.

audio; i hope you're okay, too!

[skintoskin]

Get outta there, already.

audio; ldsfjsdjfkl things are so nuts /)_(\ /<3 <3 <3

[dropkick]

I'm worried about the dog. Also the cat. I guess.

audio; I know how it is... <3<3 <3

[skintoskin]

Then get the pets and haul ass!