Too many muses, too many games I want to join djfjssvfkw

[insured]

If you were more clear, I wouldn't have anything to be uneasy about. You know that, Mun.

[ "What would be your big plans for me?" A question to add, but not a priority. At least for now. ]

A hiatus is a hiatus, don't overwhelm yourself with too many ideas when your calendar runs out.

Comments

[constructum]

Hiatuses are never really hiatuses, Mr. Fischer.

[ which really isn't saying much for the muns she supposed, but it was the truth in her opinion.

and all she could do was offer a small shrug at it all. ]

I suppose your mun has some type of idea though, right?

[insured]

An idea.

[ He pauses, the word leaving a weird taste on his tongue. Idea. It sits there. It's a numbing taste. ]

Yes, an idea... [ And another. A name? Blanks to be filled, but they are there. Spaces in his mind meant for a reason. ]

[staircases]

They're notoriously unclear most of the time. [ Arthur says this like he's reciting just another piece of data, though there is the faintest suggestion of something rueful in its declaration. ] Muns.

The best you can hope for is getting the lay of the land. Being prepared. That sort of thing.

[insured]

I wouldn't expect something as helpful, no. [ A bit of a chuckle, but hardly amused. It could be irritation, but his body spits out an entirely different noise. ]

Hopeful, that can work.

[constructum]

[ there's an awkward bit of brief silence at that - almost as if she honestly isn't fully sure how to respond at first.
but she smiles s - soft and easy all the same. ]

Have you been able to express your own opinion about them yet? [ theres a clear concern in her tone at that, as she knows (or more assumes) ideas were always something that could very well be more trouble then what they were worth. ]

[staircases]

[ Arthur looks at Fischer but only briefly, noting the way that he laughs. (It's not that he's bad with people, Arthur just knows where he's good and where he's just passable. Reading people, micro-expressions, those sorts of things: they were Eames' area expertise, not his. So he leaves it at that.) ]

Over-extension's a general problem. But it tends to work in our favor, rather than against.

[forging]

Your mundane's doing an excellent job at a hiatus, Mr. Fischer.

[ just sayin'. ]

[insured]

[ And the space the hovers there.

He chokes out a laugh while pressing at his sleeves. Needing to be sorted? Smoothing out the wrinkles. Fixing his posture. Maybe his mind could do with better sorting, being the work of a messy five year-old. ]

Well... not a very happy opinion, as you would know. [ He's scratching at the space. Like an itch: ] I'm sorry, I know you, don't I?

[insured]

And how is that--?

[ Another name? He should remember those. It's sudden, but the excusable idea if he should state his own name, even by chance... entirely unlike himself. Embarrassment sits in this throat, quickly spluttering out whatever words that seem polite. Normal. Unalarmed.

What is his name? It's an expression that knows the face, but blurs out the details. ]

How would that be in our favor?

[insured]

Thank you.

[ Tell her yourself. ]

[forging]

[ but talking to her is weird. no jk. ]

Are you planning on a more underwater investment?

[insured]

I don't see how that is any of your business.

[ You're giving bad vibes. ]