onepassingnight | (no subject)

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After the whole 'getting sedated' thing his dreams have been more than a little surreal. He's walked through paintings, saw music as it danced around him, explored a city that was twisted and warped by his mind.

But now things are quiet.

Neal sits in the middle of the floor, his hat in his lap on a quiet street corner. Nothing seems strange, nothing seems out of place except maybe him.

He feels like he he shouldn't be here.

Distant sounds come from somewhere he can't pinpoint. Sounds of music and flashes of light. He has no idea what it is but he also isn't sure he wants to find out.

He looks around him again,, getting to his feet and putting his hat on his head. He starts walking in the opposite direction of the noise but with every step he takes, it feels like chaos draws closer.

It could be worse, at least now he knows he's dreaming, knows that whatever is coming after him is only in his mind.

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He looks up at the ding, reluctant to get to his feet. The movement is just not what he wants to do right now.

He sighs. "I was sedated a couple of days ago. I don't know if the drugs are still working their way through my system." He considers that for a moment and then adds. "I'm not dangerous or anything. I was breaking into a clinic to retrieve information. They caught me and thought it would be a good idea if I couldn't cause any trouble."

A bitter smile. "Apparently they're for the 'Knock 'em out' method of things."

Shhe noticed that he doesn't seem to want to move and while he speaks, the Architect is adding more fortifications around the elevator. She's hoping the quiet eases him as well. It looks like he's been through a lot.

"That could be how this all started at the very least." She told him, bring her knees in to her chest. "Tell me out the girl. How do they know her? How did they get her? How did you get involved in this? What are you looking for?"

"You're not very shy about asking questions, are you," he says, his voice soft. "It's a long story. A really long story."

He really doesn't know if he wants to get into Kate and the music box and everything that's been going on recently. NOt right now, not while his head is splitting and to a girl he knows next to nothing about.

"This isn't about me; it's about you. And I know from witnessing it that this, whatever this is will only get worse. And I may not be around next time to get you out. If you don't deal with it, it will consume you and your dreams will only get worse. I can guarantee it." She said, her voice stern but not reprimanding.

She saw what Dom had become and he didn't need that added problem on top of everything else going on. Ariadne had a brief look into the shady side of this life, and considering he'd already been caught once, it really didn't bode well for him. Though it was his choice to deal with it in the long run. She did softly squeeze his hand though, a comforting gesture.

"I'm not saying you have to tackle it all at once right now, but if we're dream sharing, I'm still sharing my mind with you. I'm in even more danger being here than you are since as soon as we open that elevator door, they're going to be after me again." She blinked and looked down and then over at the door.

Nothing had convinced him until she said she would still be in danger. He would have kept quiet about everything if not for that fact.

But he won't let her be in danger because of him, even if this is all just a dream. The more he thinks about it, the more he's finding that dreams aren't to be looked down upon.

"I met a girl," he starts from the begining. "I tried to con her boss. Emphasis on tried. It didn't work out well." He sighs, shaking his head a little. "We fell in love and everything was great for a while until I made a stupid mistake and got her mad at me. We....sort of split up after that and I continued to run bigger cons untilo one day I thought I found her again. Turns out it was the FBI setting up a trap. We didn't get more than five minutes with eac hother." He smiles a litte bitterly at this point.

"Anyway, I spent somet ime in jail and she visited me every weel. Then one week she comes by and says we're breaking up. I knew it had to be a mistake though, or something had to have been going on, so I broke out." He stops here to rub at his temples to try and ease the pain in his head. It doens't really help.

"I eventually got the FBI to let me out on a kind of work release. I work with them and weark an anklet that tracks my movements and I get to stay out of jail. I took it because it was going to be easier to find Kate that way. "

'"She left me clues and for a while I went just chasing them around. She contacted me a few times and tried to tell em where I kept my cache. I woldn't tell her. It was the only leverage I had against whoever was keeping her. Then she managed to get a meeting with my hande. She told him that what the guy was after was a music box. The problem is, I don't actually have the music box and I barely know where to start to find it."

He sighs, peering at her. "And that's me in a nutshell," he says with a small smile.

She listened to his story, quiet. Ariadne pictured each layer of the story, jail to the FBI to her. This music box was an interesting add though. Perhaps all of this revolved around that, which in turn revolved around this Kate. Her mind worked each detail and she was quiet for a moment.

"You remind me of a colleague of mine, Eames. You would probably do well with him, save as far as I'm aware, he's never been caught." She smirked lightly before continuing. "So your main problem is this music box. What is significant about it?"

And then she paused, because he was probably expecting something back. "This is my first break into anything remotely criminal. I'm not nearly as interesting. School was practically my life before dreamsharing. And Paris was my backdrop." She shrugged a little, hoping that appeased him.

"I wouldn't have been caught if not for the whole thing with Kate," he explains. "I am very good." He even manages cocky grin to go with his words.

"The box," he considers. "Well, it was owned by Catherine th Great. When the Nazis looted her palace, it was taken. We heard that it was in Copenhagen and went after it. The job went awry though buteveryone thoguht I had it and I...didn't exactly tell them otherwise. Beyond that, i honestly have no idea why he want it."

He studies her, taking in the information he was given with a nod. "What made you get involved? In this...dreamsharing thing?"

She laughed. Ariadne probably sounded like Arthur there. She had to admit that whatever was between Arthur and Eames was amusing, and probably helped spur the project that much further.

"It's valuable? I mean people don't really need a reason to want what they want, they just want it." Ariadne said with a shrug. That was her reasoning with Saito at least.

"What I can do. I can't do that in the real world. Cheat architecture in ways that are not possible, can never be possible. It's just... creation, everything around you, here... I built. I built it by thinking it. I couldn't imagine anything else like it in the real world. And if I did, it would take years to make this. Here, everything is possible." Ariadne responded to his question, trying to relay what she felt when she created. Like she told Arthur, it was pure creation.

"It is that," he agrees. "But it doens't seem like it's worht all this trouble. I mean look at what he's willing to do to get it." He shakes his head and sighs. "There's got to be something i"m missing."

He listens, nodding his head as she speaks. "It sounds amazing," he says with a small smile. "The purest form of art. I can see why you would get involved."

"Your subconscious clearly knows something you don't. You're probably not going to get much from it today though. With the drugs, the headache." Ariadne told him and laid her head against the wall.

She liked that description. He was really an artist and she had to smile. "I mean the pay helps, the strings being pulled, but I don't think I could demolish another human being's life for anything but what I'm doing. That and the man I'm working with has a subconscious worse than yours." She threw him a smirk and sighed. "I was never supposed to go under though. But it had to have been done."

"Yeah," he says with a forced smile. "I expect that's going to make things a little bit difficult."

"Well it's nice to know that I'm not the worse one out there," he says with a forced casualty to his tone. Then he looks up at her, watching her. "Do you regret it? Even a little?"

"Perhaps you can dream me up again. I'm not at all sure how this works. I barely know about dreamsharing technology, but this is even more foreign to Mr." Ariadne sighed and looked up at the ceiling and then back at him. She wanted to help him figure this out. This wasn't like Mal though.

Though his question made her pause before she shook her head. "No. I wouldn't do it if I regret. I'll probably be reminder of the guilt, but at the same time, we are repairing his relations. Even if it is a lie. There is good there."

He considers that, then nods. "Maybe. It's worth a try. You're not bad company at the very least and under my currently situation, that's saying a lot."

He nods. "Well, at least there's that. No sense in doing something you'll regret later. Not without a good enough reason anyway." He honestly believes it too. 7

She couldn't help but smile at that and in turn, she squeezed his hand. "You're kind, Neal. And interesting. We've got a bit in common. Being criminals and into art. We can hope we'll see each other again. Preferably without your subconscious after me. But if I can help in anyway, I'll at least try." She told him, concern in her voice.

"I don't regret anything I do. If it isn't me, then I won't do it." It was a sort of transparency that she liked. There wasn't much to hide.

"And to think," he says with a small laugh. "This isn't me at my best." He does mean what he says though and if he can find her again, he will. "I'd say let's make a date of it but I'm not sure how that works in dreams."

There's a small, honest smile on his face. He does like her, likes the way she seems to think. "Good,," he says with a small nod. "That's how it should be."

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