Re: Janus A/Eames: the 'Stop
Janus wet his tongue with the iced coffee, savored a moment through the tacky salt of his mouth, and then curled up again with the cup settled safely in the curve of his left arm, like a child's toy. The re-ignition of the conversation waited for the pain to subsided. Janus thought he'd probably broken a lot of ribs at least, maybe some vertebrae loose, and the impact had torn some things loose and ripped other things up. It seemed to be better if he was on his right side, fractionally. He waited for that.
Then he said, "Enough. Not just a battery. Like a channel, too." Explaining the physical manifestation of forms was not something Janus even had a vocabulary for. Suffice it to say that he was burnt out and he needed to grow back so that he could hold enough power and concentration to do what he wanted... something like that. "Take a few... versions to get back to normal. Like making a new... cookie cutter." Another grin. Lots of metaphors, none of them quite right.
The thin expression became stormy. "No deals. It's just pain." He gave Eames a new look of suspicion. Maybe this was not Eames. "Playing games with me?"