AN, alright readers, una pregunta para tu. Being Spanish for, yo, answer this question. Now, the game plan at this point is for four stories in this saga, eventually, and as it progresses you'll see what's up. But- BUT!- This current story could technically be split if y'all wanted. So- have two medium-length ish stories (and this would be the short one, of the two) where the first one ends in a semi-cliffhanger, or one big ass story? I'm fine with either.
Also, one of my lovely reviewers mentioned more fluff…if I get to a point in my life where fluff happens to me, so I can write about it without sounding like a pre-teen Disney romantic comedy g-rated fan fiction (shudders) I will include it. But at this point, um, they're on a life or death job, even though my writing skills aren't quite good enough to show that. EVENTUALLY, they will be able to do all sorts of scandalous things in the warehouse (because we all know the warehouse was seriously misunderused I invented that word. Be jealous. Learn it. Love it. Use it. in the first one. I mean, really, Arthur and Ariadne should have been getting laid ever since Paradoxical Architecture.) And they won't be the only couple
I do have to give a shout-out here, while I'm setting the record for longest Arthur's Note ever (see what I did there? I didn't even notice it till I reread this, but I feel like I should keep it in to show how deep Inception is in my subconscious. Limbo deep.) to several people and one thing. First of all, google search My Immortal, Worst Fan fiction ever, and read it. It's highly diverting. Secondly, I would like to thank RaifandRosefan for being hardcore amazing, and gpeach6, for being exceedingly awesome. Also, Legal-Assassin-006, my new goal in life is to get you to leave a lengthy review, so I am hard at work attempting to blow your mind. Just not with this chapter. Eventually, though. So be prepared.
Also, I just got a review from Bourneinception, who deserves recognition for having a flipping badass username.
And finally, Arthur's back story is in 2 parts, because I thought his out the most, and I decided to use it now before the love quadrilateral came into play o.O I added some Easter eggs for those of us who watch Ellen Page and Joseph Gordon-Levitt films.
Arthur wasn't expecting much- he had assured Ariadne he was prepared to take the new Extractor under his wing and take them step by step, as efficiently and thoroughly as possible in the next month.
In fact, the Extractor really didn't have to be any good at all- he, Arthur, planned on doing most of the work, much like he did with Cobb. Where Cobb had been the smooth talker, now Arthur would be the smooth talker.
At least, that's what he'd told Ariadne Monday afternoon. That night, he had returned to his posh hotel and sat at the luxurious leather couch in his suite, loosening his tie and clutching a constantly full glass of whiskey in his elegant fingers. He had stared into the depths of the darkening room, knowing in his soul there was physically no way to pull off the extraction without Cobb.
He had drunk all the whiskey, and most of the bourbon, before stumbling into the bathroom and resting his head against the cool ceramic tile. He didn't care that his suit was wrinkling, or his shoes were still on, or that he'd left the windows open, and the white curtains were slowly becoming soaked from the light rain splattering onto the balcony.
Law school. His parents- rich, wealthy, elitist socialites, with connections everywhere. The Kennedys, the Mafia, Hollywood, Wall Street, Congress, Broadway. The family was considered East Coast Royalty. He, Gwen, and Lance (their maternal Grandfather had been the Professor of English Literature at Harvard for thirty years before their time, and for all he knew still was lecturing about the Order of the Bear and the Princes in the Tower, or whatever the hell one studied in English Literature) had spent their time swinging their legs off the pier and eating clam chowder, wearing polo shirts and sailing. He used to find twigs and throw them to Merlin, his dog- because, he had explained when his father had brought him home, the dog was his best friend, and Merlin was King Arthur's best friend- so it was really rude to give him a name like Bobby (Lance's choice) or Collie (Gwen's).
Never mind that Merlin turned out to be a girl, and brought Excalibur and George Washington (his father had had enough of the King Arthur references to last several reincarnations) into the world.
The first big word Arthur had ever learned was 'stereotypical'. He had snuck into the pantry for girl scout cookies, because apparently stuffing one's mouth full of Thin Mints was not allowed, and heard his mother talking. To herself.
As far as he knew, to this day, his mother was not crazy. She was just very lonely. She wasn't as much of a socialite elitist as she acted in public; she found their Hampton neighbors perfectly 'abhorrent' and 'atrocious'. But she had been complaining about her sleazy husband, and their fake-perfect life, and how stereotypical it all was.
It had culminated in smashed china, and chunks of half-chewed thin mints falling out of Arthur's mouth as he watched in shock. Gwen had cried, Lance had looked sad and thoughtful, and Merlin had started barking.
Arthur's father had flat out refused to divorce her, explaining patiently it would cause a scandal and ruin any chance he had at ever running for office. Think of the children- think of how the country club would talk!
Never mind the fact that he was having an affair or anything; that wouldn't come out until ten years later, when 18 year old, fresh out of high school Arthur was in the kitchen, searching for liquor, and ended up having to hide out in the very same pantry to avoid getting caught red-handed when Mr. and Mistress were returning from an afternoon golf game and ran into Mrs. Literally, red-handed- he'd cut himself with the bottle opener- he still wasn't sure how it had happened, but it had.
(He'd already been semi-drunk; that was how it happened.) But he wasn't an alcoholic- he'd been in love with Cassandra Monclair, whose Father had been to Greece and fallen in love with the classical and timelessness of the place. He'd wanted to call her Hera, but his wife had requested they use more modern version of the name.
Cassandra was a vivid and impulsive girl, who always braided her hair and wore the shortest skirts Arthur had thought possible. She had been full of life, and bubbles, and cartwheels…in the skirts. A cheerleader, debate team member, choir participant, Prom court nominee both years...she was perfect. They had been inseparable since children. Cass, Arthur, Lance, and Royce Johnson Wayne DeWitt IV.
Royce Johnson Wayne DeWitt IV was the fourth member of the Hampton gang-esque group. Arthur always referred to him by his full name to signify just how much of a massive douche bag he was. Arthur had had his fair share of questionable pranks and borderline illegal adventures. But whereas Arthur was mischievous and fun-loving, Royce Johnson Wayne DeWitt IV was a douche.
This was proved irrevocably when Cassandra had run towards Arthur after graduation for a hug in celebration and he'd stepped directly in front of the young Point Man and swept the girl over his shoulder and carried her off to his .convertible, declaring he'd been in love with her all his life and they should run off to California together.
Arthur had known about Cass' weakness for cliché, romantic comedy moments more than Royce Johnson Wayne DeWitt IV had, because Arthur was the one who always watched him with her. Ironically, however, this had left him stuck in what Eames referred to as "the Friend Zone". Then again, all three of the boys had been in love with her- she was just one of those girls you grew up, and knew you always wanted to end up with. It had been puppy love, but it had been the strongest, most pure kind.
Lance was Arthur's younger brother by 52 minutes and 8 seconds- the specificity of the time was important to both of them. They were identical in physical appearance and chivalry, and being dicks as teenagers. Lance had been a shade more athletic than Arthur, and a smidgen more flirtatious and confident with the ladies. (Well, a lot, but to Arthur in his inebriated state on the tile floor the difference between two girlfriends and seventeen didn't seem quite so great). After getting over the heartbreak of Cass getting knocked up, causing her to become Mrs. Royce Johnson Wayne DeWitt IV (the phone call where this revealed was what had led Arthur to the pantry, and to the discovery that his Father had banged more of his classmates than he had), Lance had headed to the West Coast as well, giving up his dream of studying Architecture to work for a Los Angeles greeting card company. He had apparently fallen in love again, though Arthur had never found out what had happened with that.
By then, he had met Eames.
Or rather, Eames had met him. Arthur had kissed little Gwen (fourteen now, not quite so little) on the cheek, told his mother he loved her, and nodded coldly at his father before heading off to a prestigious law school.
He was a pre-law major for exactly 17 weeks. And on day one of the 18th week, a gorgeous French woman had approached him.
That was as far as Arthur got before the darkness swallowed him up, and all he could feel was the coldness of the tile floor pressed into his cheek, and the hollow noise of the empty glass rolling around on the bathroom floor.