[ He's careful not to let their fingers touch when he hands the IV over. Arthur's already having some difficulty keeping himself in check, there's no reason to add fuel to the fire. Having been in the military, he likes to think his self control is better than this. But maybe he's just weak to very specific people.
Ruffians.
Clinically, he slides his own IV in, makes sure the strap is adjusted comfortably. Then he takes a seat in his favorite chair, the one with the knitted afghan thrown across the back of it. He leans forward, fingers over the depressor in the center of the PASIV. ]
Good night, Mr. Eames.
[ Pushing the button is the last thing he remembers. When the haze is blinked away, he's built them an upscale club. It has an edge of vintage, art deco, all polished brass, high ceilings, and chair rails along the walls. Arthur, dreamt into a nicer suit, sips champagne near the dark wood bar and waits. ]
no subject
Ruffians.
Clinically, he slides his own IV in, makes sure the strap is adjusted comfortably. Then he takes a seat in his favorite chair, the one with the knitted afghan thrown across the back of it. He leans forward, fingers over the depressor in the center of the PASIV. ]
Good night, Mr. Eames.
[ Pushing the button is the last thing he remembers. When the haze is blinked away, he's built them an upscale club. It has an edge of vintage, art deco, all polished brass, high ceilings, and chair rails along the walls. Arthur, dreamt into a nicer suit, sips champagne near the dark wood bar and waits. ]