orangetoughguy: (my phone is from the 90s)
Mr. Orange (Freddy Newendyke) ([personal profile] orangetoughguy) wrote2020-08-07 01:26 pm

phone post

"Motherfucker, I'm trying to watch The Lost Boys."

☎ CALL
☏ VOICEMAIL
✏ TEXT
✉ NETWORK

signatures: (❝and know that at this very moment)

[personal profile] signatures 2012-11-21 06:35 am (UTC)(link)
I don't think so.

[ He didn't think he'd been in a good line of sight, either. Closing his eyes, he only nods at Freddy's statement, though he grunts somewhat dryly. ]

If they pin me for excessive defense again... [ Eames trails off, concentrating on keeping his breathing steady. Going into panic or shock isn't going to help either of them, pressing his hand against another warm gush of blood. ]

Is this Saya's?
signatures: (❝It was right there at your)

[personal profile] signatures 2012-11-21 07:46 am (UTC)(link)
[ Pancake will probably end up sliding all over the seats but hey, he can handle it, his fat rolls will cushion him against danger - though Arthur might get pissed about all the blood on his fur. As for Eames, he just grunts, resting his head against the window of the door. ]

The car, man.

[ Then, as an aside: ] I should've finished off my will this year.
signatures: (❝People always tell us to)

[personal profile] signatures 2012-11-21 07:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ Eames tries to give Freddy his best withering look from the backseat, but it's only a pained, fatigued glower. This face isn't really prone to looking altogether too upset so it might be akin to finding Samara on your television, but whatever. ]

We have the chance of being killed every other weekend in this bloody place - or outright disappearing - and you're asking me why I'm constructing a will?

[ Also whose car is this... ]

I look like a burst grapefruit. [ Fuck, fuck, fuck.

When Arthur died, he came back - but without a heartbeat, always cold to the touch. The price to get so much of a glimmer of warmth back, Eames still thinks, was too much.
]

If I pass out, you're my proxy.
signatures: (❝insatiable curiosity to try)

[personal profile] signatures 2012-11-21 09:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ What kind of assholes parse off their gifts :|

oh wait these ones.
]

What year were you born?

[ He's going somewhere with is if he doesn't black out before he gets there, shifting (sliding, rather) uncomfortably in the seat as he presses his hands harder into his abdomen. ]

Your birthday.
signatures: (❝the key difference between)

[personal profile] signatures 2012-11-22 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
You freckled arse.

[ Have another look as Eames attempts to straighten up in the backseat. All of these nice clothes are going to be ruined by blood, thanks City. Also his stamina. Also the whole losing gallons of blood thing. ]

You're older than me, the least you could do is be my proxy!
signatures: (❝sheepish and apologetic; trying to)

[personal profile] signatures 2012-11-29 04:51 pm (UTC)(link)
The dog's more Arthur's than mine, anyway. [ Even if... maybe that's missing the point, but whatever. And even if Eames ends up walking the fat dog plenty of times because Arthur works late at the casino and thus sleeps late. Even if mostly that just entails letting him out into the backyard, these days - Eames should have gone for that option today, apparently. ]

You can't do it wrong. I want to be cremated and I don't believe in life support. See? It's easy.