|Eames (provenance) wrote in repose,|
@ 2020-05-08 19:16:00
|Entry tags:||*log, atticus mcvickers, f eames|
Eames & Atticus: the woods
Who: Eames & Atticus
When: Now-ish? Fuzzy when it comes to Arthur's Great Escape
Eames was not at all discreet when it came to the house in the woods. That was partly down to the fact it wasn't his entirely, it had been the largesse of the company when he'd been a very bad boy and he still wasn't sure they'd remove all the cameras and so on if he carried on being very good. He had of course, obscured the lot and made use of a very efficient and expensive bit of technology that provided high-pitched static for any microphones so it was a balance of living very loudly and making it very clear that he didn't care to be watched, even if he flaunted it a little.
Now with the weather very definitely turned, the doors to the living area were flung wide and music was loud from within. Eames had no neighbors, or none that he knew. The house was very firmly buried in the woods and the last person who had been within a mile of the house had been Arthur, in an exceptionally dull suit just in time to see the back of Janus. This had more to do with the nature of the house than the nature of the man. Eames wasn't overly fond of solitude, but needs must.
It wasn't need now. He had - the evidence of which could be seen scattered around - been chopping wood suitable that the fire inside or the firepit outside could be fed, but Eames now was sat deep within an adirondack chair, his feet kicked out in front of him and a carving knife applied to what looked, albeit unformed, like a chess piece. He wore jeans, and a salmon-colored linen shirt, open at the neck and he was applying concentration to the task at hand despite the beer in the glass just to the right of his ankle.