[ There it is--Yusuf is officially back to being comfortable with Arthur, because he's finally made a joke. It's a sarcastic quip and technically not a joke despite his slight grin, but he figures sarcastic quips are pretty much all the rage in that little dream team.
He'd be hurt, honestly, if he didn't understand--his compound and his skills were essential to the team, even if his driving lead something to be desired. Can't win them all. ]
[ Yusuf makes the quip and Arthur has to laugh, because really. It's just the truth of the matter.
Inception had changed all of them. Not just from the difficulty of the task itself, which was honestly momentous in their little world. He knows he'll be hearing rumors through the grapevine that it'd been accomplished. Eventually, someone will figure out who was on the team. Arthur isn't exactly looking forward to fielding calls about it. ]
It was. Though I'd like to see how we operate without certain members of the team throwing up roadblocks.
[ He's sure it's going to go smoothly. But he's absolutely a man of facts and numbers and concrete proof. Arthur wants to be able to acknowledge it in real time, with his own eyes. ]
[ The smile is back, cautious, wary, weary, but good natured nonetheless. It had been an absolute mess from start to finish, but Yusuf wouldn't trade it for the world. He doesn't think any of them would.
That's the problem with this trade, this job -- be it physically in the dreams or balancing the correct compounds -- they're all addicted. Some more than others. ]
Can I ask you--it's a bit personal, but--would you ever stop?
[ He already knows the answer. As it is, he's moving around his storefront, disappearing for a brief moment only to poke his head back in. ] Tea?
[ He returns the smile, because they both went through that mess. Because he can look back on it now and think what a clusterfuck. There are still things he's sorting through, like his relationship with Dom after it all, but for the most part, he has positive feelings towards the job.
It taught him more than a few things, which is what he can always be down for. ]
No, I wouldn't. Maybe that makes me as bad as the people who dream full time, but– I'm pretty sure I'm in this for life.
[ It isn't a personal question he wants to avoid. Because while there are plenty in their career who do this for the money, it's never been about that for him. Arthur chases the possibilities, the creation, the adrenaline. Money is secondary. ]
Would you?
[ Stop, he means. Somehow he thinks Yusuf is in the same boat. ]
Shit, I forgot, I brought some. Iced, if that doesn't make me some kind of heathen here.
[ With that, he hooks the carafe of tea out of his bag, leaning to set it on the counter. Coming empty-handed would've chafed at him. Maybe it's a holdover from his mother, who never went to anyone's house without something to share. ]
A chance to create and a chance to learn? I've never turned anything down yet. [ He doesn't think he ever will. Yusuf's smile is back, pleasant, happy, pleased as he reappears from the backroom. ]
It does, but it's so hot here that at the moment it's something I'm willing to overlook.
[ Yes, he grew up in India and moved here of his own free will, but he thinks he can still complain all the same. ]
[ He's curious– jobs are jobs and some people have less scruples than others. Arthur doesn't have any moral high ground to stand on, he's a fucking criminal like everyone else in this business, but he has his own set of rules. Things he won't do or jobs he'll turn down flat out.
No judgment if Yusuf is willing to do what he isn't. Just if he wants insurance of safety when they're working together, that could prove an obstacle. ]
Magnanimous of you. Eames called me a bloody horrible American. Though I had just described southern sweet tea.
I maintain what some people would call a drug den.
[ He doesn't like the way it's phrased-ooh, that term, drug den, like he isn't extremely careful about health, but it gets the point across--Yusuf, too, isn't exactly the pinnacle of moral wellness. ]
Far be it to pry, but it seems if you said water was wet, Eames would suddenly insist it was dry.
More people would call it that, Yusuf, I hate to burst your bubble.
[ Anyone outside of dreamshare, that is. Those who wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a run of the mill chemist and someone who excels in their field. Someone who adds to it, like Yusuf does with his experimental mixes, his precise measurements. ]
At least they aren't calling it a drug nest, which would probably be worse.
[ A nest. Ugh. ]
How is that prying? You've just gotten to the foundation of 95% of our interactions. He goes out of his way to piss me off.
[ Yusuf blinks owlishly the moment Arthur points out the nature of his craft--yes, it's the truth, but no, he doesn't want to hear it--and before he can rebuke, Arthur moves on.
Well then. He'll take that tea and drink most of it, just for that assault to his career. ]
Unlike him or you, I like to at least pretend I'm polite.
[ He's grinning, though, and one of his cats leaps up on the table and right to Arthur, seemingly hellbent on shedding all over the other's neat linen. ]
[ As Yusuf downs the tea in lieu of a verbal response, Arthur forces down a grin. Seems like he didn't exactly want someone to acknowledge that yeah, it could be seen as a drug den. So unscrupulous and horrible and whatever other words people liked to attach to places like this. What matters though, is that he knows better. He wouldn't be here otherwise. ]
I've never pretended to be polite. [ He sees the cat aiming to jump, so he leans back and a moment later has a lap full of curious fur and whiskers. Undeterred by the natural bucketload of shedding, Arthur pets the cat from head to tail, a slow repeated motion. Eventually the cat settles, loafing with its feet tucked under and eyes closed into happy slits. ]
Eames makes an attempt but we both know he's a liar. You're more genuinely polite than at least 75% of the people we work with, honestly.
[ It's a damn pleasing sight, seeing one of his cats lovingly drape along the table, perfectly at home with Arthur. Yusuf's cats are friendly, yes, but he's found over the years that animals are far better judges of people than the people themselves.
Plus, anyone who can appreciate how cute she is is good in Yusuf's eyes. ]
Well--Americans. [ Not that Eames is American, no, but he half shrugs again, more amused than anything, and tries not to be too warmed by the compliment. There's staying humble and then never receiving compliments at all, and Yusuf is falling between the two quite nicely. ]
The day Eames admits he's more yankee is the day both of us quit our jobs.
[ Okay maybe not, but it would be like hell freezing over. While the forger likes to rag on his mother country, he's also immensely proud of England. Despite all of her transgressions. There's a reason he has a flat there; he would never keep a place somewhere he dislikes that intensely.
Glancing up from petting the cat, Arthur cocks his head to the side, curious to hear what Yusuf has to say. ]
For? [ Well, he has an idea of what. But he wants to hear it. ]
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[ There it is--Yusuf is officially back to being comfortable with Arthur, because he's finally made a joke. It's a sarcastic quip and technically not a joke despite his slight grin, but he figures sarcastic quips are pretty much all the rage in that little dream team.
He'd be hurt, honestly, if he didn't understand--his compound and his skills were essential to the team, even if his driving lead something to be desired. Can't win them all. ]
no subject
Inception had changed all of them. Not just from the difficulty of the task itself, which was honestly momentous in their little world. He knows he'll be hearing rumors through the grapevine that it'd been accomplished. Eventually, someone will figure out who was on the team. Arthur isn't exactly looking forward to fielding calls about it. ]
It was. Though I'd like to see how we operate without certain members of the team throwing up roadblocks.
[ He's sure it's going to go smoothly. But he's absolutely a man of facts and numbers and concrete proof. Arthur wants to be able to acknowledge it in real time, with his own eyes. ]
no subject
[ The smile is back, cautious, wary, weary, but good natured nonetheless. It had been an absolute mess from start to finish, but Yusuf wouldn't trade it for the world. He doesn't think any of them would.
That's the problem with this trade, this job -- be it physically in the dreams or balancing the correct compounds -- they're all addicted. Some more than others. ]
Can I ask you--it's a bit personal, but--would you ever stop?
[ He already knows the answer. As it is, he's moving around his storefront, disappearing for a brief moment only to poke his head back in. ] Tea?
no subject
[ He returns the smile, because they both went through that mess. Because he can look back on it now and think what a clusterfuck. There are still things he's sorting through, like his relationship with Dom after it all, but for the most part, he has positive feelings towards the job.
It taught him more than a few things, which is what he can always be down for. ]
No, I wouldn't. Maybe that makes me as bad as the people who dream full time, but– I'm pretty sure I'm in this for life.
[ It isn't a personal question he wants to avoid. Because while there are plenty in their career who do this for the money, it's never been about that for him. Arthur chases the possibilities, the creation, the adrenaline. Money is secondary. ]
Would you?
[ Stop, he means. Somehow he thinks Yusuf is in the same boat. ]
Shit, I forgot, I brought some. Iced, if that doesn't make me some kind of heathen here.
[ With that, he hooks the carafe of tea out of his bag, leaning to set it on the counter. Coming empty-handed would've chafed at him. Maybe it's a holdover from his mother, who never went to anyone's house without something to share. ]
no subject
It does, but it's so hot here that at the moment it's something I'm willing to overlook.
[ Yes, he grew up in India and moved here of his own free will, but he thinks he can still complain all the same. ]
no subject
[ He's curious– jobs are jobs and some people have less scruples than others. Arthur doesn't have any moral high ground to stand on, he's a fucking criminal like everyone else in this business, but he has his own set of rules. Things he won't do or jobs he'll turn down flat out.
No judgment if Yusuf is willing to do what he isn't. Just if he wants insurance of safety when they're working together, that could prove an obstacle. ]
Magnanimous of you. Eames called me a bloody horrible American. Though I had just described southern sweet tea.
no subject
[ He doesn't like the way it's phrased-ooh, that term, drug den, like he isn't extremely careful about health, but it gets the point across--Yusuf, too, isn't exactly the pinnacle of moral wellness. ]
Far be it to pry, but it seems if you said water was wet, Eames would suddenly insist it was dry.
no subject
[ Anyone outside of dreamshare, that is. Those who wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a run of the mill chemist and someone who excels in their field. Someone who adds to it, like Yusuf does with his experimental mixes, his precise measurements. ]
At least they aren't calling it a drug nest, which would probably be worse.
[ A nest. Ugh. ]
How is that prying? You've just gotten to the foundation of 95% of our interactions. He goes out of his way to piss me off.
no subject
Well then. He'll take that tea and drink most of it, just for that assault to his career. ]
Unlike him or you, I like to at least pretend I'm polite.
[ He's grinning, though, and one of his cats leaps up on the table and right to Arthur, seemingly hellbent on shedding all over the other's neat linen. ]
no subject
I've never pretended to be polite. [ He sees the cat aiming to jump, so he leans back and a moment later has a lap full of curious fur and whiskers. Undeterred by the natural bucketload of shedding, Arthur pets the cat from head to tail, a slow repeated motion. Eventually the cat settles, loafing with its feet tucked under and eyes closed into happy slits. ]
Eames makes an attempt but we both know he's a liar. You're more genuinely polite than at least 75% of the people we work with, honestly.
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Plus, anyone who can appreciate how cute she is is good in Yusuf's eyes. ]
Well--Americans. [ Not that Eames is American, no, but he half shrugs again, more amused than anything, and tries not to be too warmed by the compliment. There's staying humble and then never receiving compliments at all, and Yusuf is falling between the two quite nicely. ]
I suppose, then, I should--ehm--apologize.
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[ Okay maybe not, but it would be like hell freezing over. While the forger likes to rag on his mother country, he's also immensely proud of England. Despite all of her transgressions. There's a reason he has a flat there; he would never keep a place somewhere he dislikes that intensely.
Glancing up from petting the cat, Arthur cocks his head to the side, curious to hear what Yusuf has to say. ]
For? [ Well, he has an idea of what. But he wants to hear it. ]