- Pick a loser.
(there are specific posts for eames, destiny characters, and overwatch characters)
- Leave a comment with your character and put which one of mine you want in the header.
- Leave a prompt! Be it a picture or an idea or something you hijacked from a meme.
- If it's a meme overflow, link the original thread because I'm a baby with a bad memory.
- Or leave it blank and I'll try to think up something.
- NSFW content goes here.
- And a great time was had by all
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She doesn't really need to relax, but it certainly helps. Eames leans forward to start up the PASIV and relaxes in his chair.
Provided nothing goes horribly wrong, when next she opens her eyes, Nancy will find herself waking on a bench in an Italian(-ish) vineyard. It's beautiful — acres of farmland with workers picking grapes in the sun, a maisonette in the distance. It's realistic enough, sun warming the skin, the smell of the fruit and plants, but it's shallow. No depth beyond this. But it's a good enough base.
Eames is standing about a foot away from the bench, dressed in a linen suit and sunglasses, hands in his pockets as he looks out at everything while he waits for his guest to wake up.
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The light is far too bright and Nancy blinks away the bright lights of the Italian(ish) sun. When she can see, she inhales, looking at the sprawling landscape in front of her. She's dressed in what she slept in, worn-in jeans, light green hoodie.
"How'd you get that!" Is what she asks first, when she notices Eames near her. "Woah- is this- I'm in a dream?"
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Eames turns his head to look at her and nods, tilting his head and pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at her, "mine, specifically."
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"I wouldn't ever want to get used to it." She looks around, tilting her head toward the sun. It's something out a movie, about some smart young thing taking a few months in Italy to perhaps write?, and at some point Nancy's imagining herself as the heroine, dark blue dress fluttering behind her, big white floppy hat. Her next step makes her realize that her sneakers are gone, replaced by a pair of sandals.
"Look!" She does a twirl for Eames.
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"If it's a dream, I imagine it can be... anything."
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"So my dress?"
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He gestures broadly as he speaks — flowing hand movements to illustrate the subconscious and more rigid ones for the other — and when he continues, he opens his jacket he gestures to the silk lining, "building a dream is a different animal, consciously making those choices is something you'll learn."
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On the other side is a little paved area with a small table and seats that overlook a hills and fields. It's a beautiful scene, vaguely European with an early afternoon sun.
"So, first step--" He walks over to the table and pulls a chair out for Nancy, "I'm just going to try a few things to get a feel for your aptitude."
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"Alright- hold on." She closes her eyes for a moment and screws up her nose. This is a dream. She can imagine whatever she wants. When she opens her eyes, there's a bottle of rare gin on the table and a martini glass. Absolutely perfect. And time to see if you can drink in a dream.