Eames managed a smile as he was told that Arthur was fine, although what Morpheus saw, he had no idea. The smile quickly turned into a smirk when he was told what Arthur was doing, but he was distracted by Morpheus' studying of his hand. He glanced down as well, and blinked at what he saw. The ink was moving up his arm, slowly but steadily, and it was the only thing on him that seemed to be in focus. "...this is unexpected," he remarked, and poked at the ink with a fuzzy finger. It did nothing and the ink continued to work its way up his arm. "I think you got some black on me," he said as he looked up at Dream, but then dismissed it for a few moments as he had more important things to talk about.
He quickly ran over what he knew about the jail he was in, including who he'd seen and spoken to, and what he could work out of the layout of the place (from what he could see with his limited viewpoint), and asked if Morpheus would pass the information on to Arthur. By the time he'd finished speaking, the ink had climbed up his arm and moved down onto his chest where it was all pooled on the right-hand side for the time being. "Seriously, Boss, what is this?"