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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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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