[Luck is not on Arthur's side today and the shot hits it's mark, going right through the center of his palm before he can turn. There's no way he can't yell from the pain, sharp and loud, but he doesn't stop to stew in it. No, instead he's swinging around the building in case Wrong!Eames fires at him again, injured hand held to his chest as he stays low.
He's not an Architect, Deerington has made it abundantly clear that any amount of altering of it's fabric will have consequences, but he needs to get away fast. Changes he makes in public spaces revert shortly after, and that's what he needs, now.
A section of wall gives way under his shoving shoulder as if the hidden door had always been there, and Arthur's stumbling through, racing down the 'tunnel' that's been created cutting through the base of the building. There's only so much time he's got before it'll close up in front and behind him, so he doesn't dawdle. After all, Eames could still get into the passage while it exists.]
no subject
He's not an Architect, Deerington has made it abundantly clear that any amount of altering of it's fabric will have consequences, but he needs to get away fast. Changes he makes in public spaces revert shortly after, and that's what he needs, now.
A section of wall gives way under his shoving shoulder as if the hidden door had always been there, and Arthur's stumbling through, racing down the 'tunnel' that's been created cutting through the base of the building. There's only so much time he's got before it'll close up in front and behind him, so he doesn't dawdle. After all, Eames could still get into the passage while it exists.]