[Oh. Great. Another of those Deerington-driven impulses for murdering Arthur for both being and not being Arthur.
Wonderful.
He might sound a bit curt, voice a low, annoyed bark, but that's only to be expected when you put a gun to his face while looking like someone who was very attached to him.]
So now you're the one looking for some specificity.
[Resisting the urge to roll his eyes or say something stupid, Arthur slowly reaches one of his hands into his jacket for the inner pocket - opposite to the side he keeps his gun holstered, which Eames should know, otherwise his title as Forge is hereby null and void.
Instead of a gun, he pulls out his totem, holding it up between his fingers to the light.]
no subject
Wonderful.
He might sound a bit curt, voice a low, annoyed bark, but that's only to be expected when you put a gun to his face while looking like someone who was very attached to him.]
So now you're the one looking for some specificity.
[Resisting the urge to roll his eyes or say something stupid, Arthur slowly reaches one of his hands into his jacket for the inner pocket - opposite to the side he keeps his gun holstered, which Eames should know, otherwise his title as Forge is hereby null and void.
Instead of a gun, he pulls out his totem, holding it up between his fingers to the light.]
Got your chip?