The Forger

I specialize in forgery and foolishness. Care for a taste? //Indie Eames RP from Inception// Warning - rp blog deals with a type of drug addiction and things may get NSFW at times.

[kinghardy]

“Which from the outside looking in, for me, I can see that he is but there’s an essence of ‘don’t ask him anything’ he’s on his journey as a practitioner, and he’s brilliant.”

[justadraftsman]

  "I- You what? Hang on-"

He’s on his feet in a second.

"Eames, come here. I’m a grown fugitive, of course I can feed myself."

[foolishforgery-blog]

"I never said you couldn't," he throws back as he start to open and close cabinets.

"I just know the way you intellectuals work." He peeks around the doorway at him.

"Always too busy thinking and not really paying attention to one's bodily needs."

[foolishforgery-blog]

"Well well well... Long time no see"

Eyes the man. "Perhaps too long.."

[justadraftsman]

theforgereames replied to your post “*pouts at Arthur*”

"Nothing happened, I just…. missed you, Arthur." *resists urge to stand and hug the skinny man*

"Well, you found me eventually." [He offers a weak smile, uncertain of how to react other than handing off a glass of wine and settling in.] "What happened in New York?"

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames takes the glass but doesn't draw it to his lips. Just stares at the other man. He ignores Arthur's 'polite' conversation.

"Are you eating, love? I'm afraid if I hug you that I'll get a paper cut. Do you have anything edible here?" 

He stands to search the kitchen.

[frog43]

Important character development question: would they lick someone’s hand if they tried to cover their mouth?

[justadraftsman]

theforgereames replied to your post:❃

Eames’ fingers fly to his cheek as if to catch the gesture and hold it but his wayward traveler was already away and the kiss was already cooling between his fingertips. He address the man’s back regardless, “You missed your target, dearest.”

He throws up a hand as he walks away. “I don’t miss.”

At least part of him is aware they’re increasing the volume to match the distance he puts between them. “You want the rest? Find it.”

[foolishforgery-blog]

A challenge. When did this game of global tag begin anyway? He only liked to check up on the other man if he was in the same country-- even if the country was Russia.

But Arthur had added an extra dimension to their game. He added touch and intimacy. Something  Eames wouldn't have necessarily attributed to the man.

He almost bolted after him, somehow getting on his plane and following through with 'the rest' but instead he just noted his destination. He'd catch up with him soon enough--

[singfromthehair-deactivated2019]

YES YOU CAN.

[wildlinging]

Dylan Thomas

[toseeanew]

[toseeanew]

  Arthur watched the other, unable to keep his eyes from rolling as the man ‘zipped’ his mouth shut. He almost groaned outright at the childishness, but he was past fed up and was willing to give Eames whatever he wanted if he would just let him finish his work. "I’m sure you can forge my signature," the younger said riffling through some papers and making a small stack. He handed it over to Eames, along with a fountain pen, not need to read them, it’s already done; just sign my name at the bottom. And I do mean my working signature, not my real one. 

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames didn’t miss the signature eye-roll that he knew was meant for him and him only. Arthur was such an expert with that particular eye-roll. Eames usually met it with his broadest, cheekiest grin. An expression which now played across his face.

He leaned forward, scooting the chair closer to the desk. He gingerly picked up one of the sheet that already had Arthur’s name scribbled in his clear but fluid hand-writing.

"Right," he said most of the playfulness gone. "I’ll need to practice it for just a minute. You have a loose bit of paper somewhere?"

[toseeanew]

Arthur raised a brow at the other, waiting a full minute before speaking. "Don’t kid yourself," he replied, crossing his arms, "I know you have my signature memorized already." He would be shocked to know that Eames didn’t know the ins and outs of his scrawlings when he prided himself on being the best forger out there. They had worked together too many times, and too closely for Eames not to know the ins and outs of every letter Arthur put to paper. "If you really need to practise you can do it in my note pad," he walked over to the man, putting the pad down in front of him and letting his fingers linger on the leather binding. "Eames…" he spoke softly this time, his eyes lingers on the blank page.  He leaned down slowly, kissing the elder on his rough cheek “thanks for staying.”

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames only laughed and tested the pen in between his fingers. "Well, I'm used to writing 'The future Arthur Eames' when I forge it. Want to make sure I get the correct surname."

He was still chuckling to himself when the pad of paper appeared before him. He looked up at the sound of his name and froze when the other man came close. Eames even held his breath as the man's lips met the stubble on his cheek.

He watched him carefully not sure if he should go with his instinct. "Anytime, Arthur," his reply was sincere and solemn.

[toseeanew]

[toseeanew]

  Arthur let out a heavy sigh, trying to make sure it would be heard by Eames especially. He really was exasperated and having the Brit here wasn’t going to help in the least. "Fine," he replied, rubbing his hair back. "But you stay quiet unless I speak to you first. I don’t have time to argue and I’d rather get this done now so I can go back to my hotel and sleep."

[foolishforgery-blog]

“Right! Speak when spoke to.” He mimicked pulled a zipper closed across his lips. “Wait,” he quickly unzipped the imaginary zipper.

“Give me a task before condemning me to silence, love.”

[toseeanew]

Arthur watched the other, unable to keep his eyes from rolling as the man ‘zipped’ his mouth shut. He almost groaned outright at the childishness, but he was past fed up and was willing to give Eames whatever he wanted if he would just let him finish his work. "I’m sure you can forge my signature," the younger said riffling through some papers and making a small stack. He handed it over to Eames, along with a fountain pen, not need to read them, it’s already done; just sign my name at the bottom. And I do mean my working signature, not my real one. 

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames didn't miss the signature eye-roll that he knew was meant for him and him only. Arthur was such an expert with that particular eye-roll. Eames usually met it with his broadest, cheekiest grin. An expression which now played across his face.

He leaned forward, scooting the chair closer to the desk. He gingerly picked up one of the sheet that already had Arthur's name scribbled in his clear but fluid hand-writing.

"Right," he said most of the playfulness gone. "I'll need to practice it for just a minute. You have a loose bit of paper somewhere?"

[toseeanew]

[toseeanew]

  Arthur rubbed between his brows, watching the other and trying to gather what little control he had left. He was tired, and honestly the only thing keeping him going was the coffee at this point. "It’s instant," he said with a heavy sigh, looking up from his hand and running his tongue over his lip with annoyance. "Look Eames, there is nothing you can do to help. Why are you even here? You should be out celebrating or whatever. I’m not going to run off without saying good-bye or whatever…." He turned to looked back to his desk, feeling a odd pang hit around in his chest as if a fly were stuck in his lungs. 

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames made a face at the mention of the word ‘instant’. He could drink coffee but not when its in that format.

And the question he just shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know. I just wanted to spend more time with you, is all.”

Eames was an expert with lies and facades but occasionally he was ok with saying the truth.

[toseeanew]

Arthur let out a heavy sigh, trying to make sure it would be heard by Eames especially. He really was exasperated and having the Brit here wasn’t going to help in the least. "Fine," he replied, rubbing his hair back. "But you stay quiet unless I speak to you first. I don’t have time to argue and I’d rather get this done now so I can go back to my hotel and sleep."

[foolishforgery-blog]

"Right! Speak when spoke to." He mimicked pulled a zipper closed across his lips. "Wait," he quickly unzipped the imaginary zipper.

"Give me a task before condemning me to silence, love."

[toseeanew]

[toseeanew]

  The brunet leaned back in his chair, his warm finger rubbing under the roughness of his own lip, the heat from his drink there as well. "Maybe later," he replied after a long pause, occupying himself bu gather the remainder of the paper on his desk. He started to skim over them, making various marks with his dying pen.  "I’ve got work to do still, you should go enjoy yourself." 

[foolishforgery-blog]

“I don’t think I could enjoy myself knowing that you’re still stuck up here working,” Eames drummed his fingers on the fabric of his loose fitting pants. He turned abruptly, searching for something.

“I suppose I could just stay here,” he grabbed one of the cheap folding chairs, dragging it across the floor to where the American sat.

“Besides I have my own,” he sat and pulled out a flask from the pocket of his blazer. “What are you working on? I can help out,” He snatched up one of the papers.

[toseeanew]

Arthur looked up properly this time, watching Eames and cringing as he dragged the chair across the floor. He could feel his temper rising as he watched the man, not missing the good natured attempt, but still feeling annoyance for the other.  "I’d rather you didn’t," the brunet tried to protest, standing slowly as he watched Eames take out the flask and sit himself down. "You’re just going to distract me. I don’t need help, and I really don’t need you drinking in here. This is part of my job Eames, you’ve finished your’s. Go."

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames opened his arm wide in a way that said ‘wait, what did I do?’. He took a quick swig of the drink before tucking it back into his coat pocket.

“Is it the booze? Alright, where’d you get that?” he pointed to the coffee before leaning back in his chair. He carefully lifted the front legs of the chair as he continues to lean backwards, searching for a coffee pot.

“I could use a good cuppa. Or..coffee. That’s coffee, right?” He shook his head. “You Americans and your love affair with java.”

[toseeanew]

Arthur rubbed between his brows, watching the other and trying to gather what little control he had left. He was tired, and honestly the only thing keeping him going was the coffee at this point. "It’s instant," he said with a heavy sigh, looking up from his hand and running his tongue over his lip with annoyance. "Look Eames, there is nothing you can do to help. Why are you even here? You should be out celebrating or whatever. I’m not going to run off without saying good-bye or whatever…." He turned to looked back to his desk, feeling a odd pang hit around in his chest as if a fly were stuck in his lungs. 

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames made a face at the mention of the word 'instant'. He could drink coffee but not when its in that format.

And the question he just shrugged and looked away. "I don't know. I just wanted to spend more time with you, is all."

Eames was an expert with lies and facades but occasionally he was ok with saying the truth.

[toseeanew]

[toseeanew]

  The brunet leaned back in his chair, his warm finger rubbing under the roughness of his own lip, the heat from his drink there as well. "Maybe later," he replied after a long pause, occupying himself bu gather the remainder of the paper on his desk. He started to skim over them, making various marks with his dying pen.  "I’ve got work to do still, you should go enjoy yourself." 

[foolishforgery-blog]

“I don’t think I could enjoy myself knowing that you’re still stuck up here working,” Eames drummed his fingers on the fabric of his loose fitting pants. He turned abruptly, searching for something.

“I suppose I could just stay here,” he grabbed one of the cheap folding chairs, dragging it across the floor to where the American sat.

“Besides I have my own,” he sat and pulled out a flask from the pocket of his blazer. “What are you working on? I can help out,” He snatched up one of the papers.

[toseeanew]

Arthur looked up properly this time, watching Eames and cringing as he dragged the chair across the floor. He could feel his temper rising as he watched the man, not missing the good natured attempt, but still feeling annoyance for the other.  "I’d rather you didn’t," the brunet tried to protest, standing slowly as he watched Eames take out the flask and sit himself down. "You’re just going to distract me. I don’t need help, and I really don’t need you drinking in here. This is part of my job Eames, you’ve finished your’s. Go."

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames opened his arm wide in a way that said 'wait, what did I do?'. He took a quick swig of the drink before tucking it back into his coat pocket.

"Is it the booze? Alright, where'd you get that?" he pointed to the coffee before leaning back in his chair. He carefully lifted the front legs of the chair as he continues to lean backwards, searching for a coffee pot.

"I could use a good cuppa. Or..coffee. That's coffee, right?" He shook his head. "You Americans and your love affair with java."

[soninfla]

Visit Original Link

[b4twenty]

Come Together/Royals - The Beatles & Lorde

idigapygmy honestly the best thing you’ve EVER posted

[toseeanew]

It was a late afternoon; the job finished, but far from being over. Arthur still had things to tie up, still had papers to files and bills to pay. Work was never done for a point man and while so many others on the team enjoyed their pay and spent the night out. Arthur instead cradled a cup of coffee and ran a dying pen along the end of a page scrawling his name. 

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames shrugged on his burnt orange blazer, adjusting the collar casually as he eyed the rest of the team leaving. His face was turned towards the exiting pair but his body language surged with awareness of the point man; observing him without actually looking at him.

“Oi!” he shouted at them, “I’m be down at the pub later, mates.”

He looked left and right for any sign of a reflective surface but that sort of luck wasn’t his. He shook his head and just trusted in his own rugged good looks.

“What about it, Arthur? Fancy a drink?”

[toseeanew]

Arthur only glanced up, not even needing it really as he heard the rough accent of the elder. He ran his finger around the warm lip of his mug; heated by the dark coffee and his mouth in turn.  The brunet leaned back in his chair, his warm finger rubbing under the roughness of his own lip, the heat from his drink there as well. "Maybe later," he replied after a long pause, occupying himself bu gather the remainder of the paper on his desk. He started to skim over them, making various marks with his dying pen.  "I’ve got work to do still, you should go enjoy yourself." 

[foolishforgery-blog]

"I don't think I could enjoy myself knowing that you're still stuck up here working," Eames drummed his fingers on the fabric of his loose fitting pants. He turned abruptly, searching for something.

"I suppose I could just stay here," he grabbed one of the cheap folding chairs, dragging it across the floor to where the American sat.

"Besides I have my own," he sat and pulled out a flask from the pocket of his blazer. "What are you working on? I can help out," He snatched up one of the papers.

[toseeanew]

It was a late afternoon; the job finished, but far from being over. Arthur still had things to tie up, still had papers to files and bills to pay. Work was never done for a point man and while so many others on the team enjoyed their pay and spent the night out. Arthur instead cradled a cup of coffee and ran a dying pen along the end of a page scrawling his name. 

[foolishforgery-blog]

Eames shrugged on his burnt orange blazer, adjusting the collar casually as he eyed the rest of the team leaving. His face was turned towards the exiting pair but his body language surged with awareness of the point man; observing him without actually looking at him.

"Oi!" he shouted at them, "I'm be down at the pub later, mates."

He looked left and right for any sign of a reflective surface but that sort of luck wasn't his. He shook his head and just trusted in his own rugged good looks.

"What about it, Arthur? Fancy a drink?"

[tomhordy]