Re: Janus A/Eames - log
As the soldier, his original body, in fact, was the least alarming in his arsenal, it was best that Eames wasn't alarmed by it overmuch. People who dealt with nightmares and dead people on the regular (Janus noticed) tend to hold up to the supernatural horrors a lot better than your average joe, who'd toss his cookies just looking at a broken bone exposed to air. Corinthian had fucked up a lot of people in this town, probably more than the bastard had realized, and Janus was kind of counting on the one previous experience he'd had with the guy in the blue. Woman in the dining room. Both.
The longer the prep there went on, the more Janus was reminded of a hospital and less of his adventuresome youth. He listened, and he was watching the unresponsive timer screen as Eames got on with the whole needle part of the process. Then he sat back against the back of his chair, small in its arms.
"What does that mean, your dream? Doesn't that mean you make the place, and we show up in it?" Judging from the soldier's expression, he hadn't the slightest idea what Eames meant with all this talk about layers. Dreaming was not Janus' purview. He was able to connect with certain kinds of people in the interest of his job (or sometimes under the radar, like people getting reimbursed for groceries instead of expenses), but that was it. This was way out of his wheelhouse.