drear | OPEN SEASON 2.

[ The hallway inclines downward slightly but noticeably as they're continuing down it. Heine stops walking as soon as there's the slightest judder, eyes narrowing. ]

Yeah.

[ Something's wrong. Heine turns around. There's no one behind them, but from further down the hallway there's the approaching sound of running footsteps, distanced by a door or wall—but they're coming. ]

...let's go. They shouldn't be hostile yet, but— [ He frowns. He'd still rather not be here when they arrive. ]

[So much for everything going according to plan. As far as Eames could tell, their entry had been pretty unremarkable, and they hadn't done anything to the dreamscape to warrant detection already. Did this teacher have experience with shared dreaming?

He resisted the urge to sigh, already starting into a jog.]

Let's get this done quickly then, shall we?

[It makes him wary that the hallway was sloping downwards.]

Remind me, was this in the design?

[He was almost positive it hadn't been, but maybe their cunning architect had added something to it just in case?]

[ Heine follows the pace, looking behind them as they head down the slope, which gets steeper and steeper the further they go. ]

...it's not meant to be this steep. She has to have had some kind of preparation, this is—

[ Something catches his eye, and he almost skids to a stop when he sees the next door. ]

In here.

[ Another stairwell, another, darker level. ]

[Well, so much for this being a simple job. If she had training, it was a question of how much and how lethal she could be. If the projections were seeking them out already and changing the dreamscape, this could get ugly very quickly.]

I haven't heard any bullets so far, so perhaps she's only been trained in detection?

[It seemed ludicrous for a teacher, but it was always the people one would least expect to be great at dream sharing.

He ducked in after Heine, frowning slightly at the dark stairwell, wary. This could be a trap, but if Heine was a traitor, he should be able to incapacitate him.]

How far until we get to the principle's office?

The principal's office is in the center of the lowest level.

[ It's an inward-growing spiral, but Heine doesn't clarify that as they enter a deep staircase. The footsteps are coming from above them now. ]

Even if they're not armed, I don't want to deal with any hostile projections. [ He continues down the stairs, taking them two at a time and keeping an eye out for an exit landing. ] ...too bad there's no elevator.

[At that tidbit of information, Eames resisted the urge to groan, instead focusing on picking up his steps, tossing a glance at the other man.]

Have you dealt with hostile projections before?

[Not everyone in their business was combat trained and focused, and if worst came to worst, Eames wanted to know what he could reliably expect.

He turned back to glance behind his shoulder, mouth pulling downwards.]

Best not. We barely entered before they were onto us. Something's wrong.

[Had they been expected?]

Yeah.

[ More experience than he'd prefer. Heine skids along a step and starts running down them two at a time. ]

Something—someone must've tipped her off.

[ He almost trips when he tries to stop very suddenly at the sight of the next door. Hanging onto the door handle, he takes a moment to stop and look back at Eames, brow furrowed. Was it him? Is he about to be knocked out of the dream right now and into another ambush? ]

Oh good.

[That was one thing settled. As for the other matter, well. Eames would hate to suspect Elena but there weren't many other people involved in the job, unless Heine was a world class actor who could fool even Eames. He looked just as unbalanced by all of this as Eames felt.]

How well do you know the woman who hired you?

[Just a bit of idle chit chat, nothing that was out of place in a potentially very dangerous situation.

When the door appeared, Eames shrugged, because it certainly wasn't him. He knew better than to try anything when a dreamer was already aware of them.]

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

[He gestured for Heine to open it, on the other side to provide any support if necessary.]

Not very well.

[ A more accurate answer is: not at all. Heine doesn't communicate much with people, and he takes jobs by seeking them out or when someone actually bothers to track him down and ask. ]

...I have some questions for her when I get out of here.

[ It's all he bothers grumbling before he swings the door open. The hallway on the other side is empty—for now. Heine checks both ways before going entering. ]

So. [ The hallway is almost featureless, only a door at either end. ] Left first.

[ That is an extremely arbitrary decision, but at least it's a decision. ]

Same. Try to leave some questions for me to ask, would you?

[He won't question the decision, mostly because he had a feeling both of those doors would lead to something equally unpleasant.

Cautiously, he entered the hallway, still listening for the sound of footfalls. They sounded strangely muffled, which was both a comfort and a cause for concern.]

Allow me.

[Eames opened the door slowly, tense, ready to defend himself if necessary.]

[ Heine lets Eames go ahead of him. Better to not have his back to someone he doesn't trust now (though to be fair, Heine never trusted him in the first place, because he doesn't really trust anyone). ]

...I don't see anyone.

[ But he can still hear them. Heine follows Eames through the door. Since it's clear, he tries to slide bodily past Eames and start walking quickly down to find another door. ]

[The idea of endless empty hallways and doors made Eames rub his face tiredly, annoyed. Was Elena testing them or betraying them? It was a difficult call to make, and he may have been biased and hoping it that there was an appropriate explanation for this.]

Was there anything about the architecture you kept from Elena?

[He opened the next door, mostly to keep space between them and their pursuers, mouth drawn in a tight line.]

This seems mostly like empty space, someone is trying to change it, but either isn't skilled or yours has a stronger hold.

...no.

[ It's a lie, but Heine makes the pause long enough to pretend that it isn't one. He always builds a way out into his architecture, even if it's hidden and involves a force kick anyway. As they continue, Heine's lips press together and his steps speed up. ]

I made it hidden, but this is—fucking ridiculous.

[ Aggravated now, he speedwalks to the end of the next hall and stops, staring at the door. He dreamed it, but in an emergency, he has to rethink it. After a pause, during which footsteps overhead stop, he turns around to go back toward the door they came through. The material of it has changed to dark green plastic—a utility door, not a janitor's, but it'll do.

Through it is a final, dimly lit stairwell down to a landing so bright that it's blinding by contrast. Heine hurries down the steps and almost sighs in relief when he sees the small waiting area before a door marked PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, a window in the back of the room looking back on the outside. ]

Here.

[Most architectures worth their salt know better than to not leave a passageway out or to not put in place a few short cuts just in case the worst scenario happens. He wasn't sure if perhaps this man didn't have as much experience as he had initially led Eames to believe or if he was lying.

He was more than relieved when it was the latter, following Heine down the stairwell, clapping the other man on the shoulder briefly once the principle's office, grinning. While they weren't home free by any stretch, at least they were here.]

Here we go.

[He opened the door warily, sighing slightly. Empty, but that didn't mean they had time to mess around.]

Let's get the information if it's actually here and get out.

[ Heine twitches away from the friendly gesture, but as they enter the principal's office he's back to business, starting to rifle through the desk drawers. ]

Should be in a labeled file.

[ There are a hell of a lot of files, though, and Heine's expression darkens as he finds more and more of them. ]

[The twitch didn't go unnoticed, and Eames would make sure to refrain from such gestures later on. He wasn't half as nice when it came to finding the files, instead, rifling through things quickly, tossing them out onto the floor if it wasn't what they were looking for. Considering they might be caught by projections or perhaps other dream-sharers, time was of the essence.]

There may not be a file. If this was a set up, we might be wasting time.

[What a very optimistic thing to say, but he was still going to look just in case.]

There should be something in here—

[ Heine grumbles again, tossing a file out and almost crawling under the desk to reach the back of the drawer. Finally, he sees one that's different from the rest.

He grabs it and flips through it. ]

Found it. [ Holding it to his chest, Heine stands up, looking around quickly. ] But if Elena gets it—

What does it say?

[As soon as Heine said he found the file, Eames was over his shoulder, peering down at it. Words like 'state secrets' or 'classified: top secret' did not belong in the mind of a school teacher, and Eames was nearly kicking himself for believing that cover story.]

Rip it up as we run, we need to get out of here.

[The footsteps of the projections were loud as booming thunder at this point.]

Stuff.

[ He can't read that fast. Heine snaps it shut almost as soon as Eames speaks, taking out a few pages and holding the rest under his arm and standing up again. ]

They're too close. We can't outrun them— [ Looking around, Heine moves toward the window. ]

C'mon. Out here.

[The suggestion wasn't a bad one, except that when Eames pushed open the windows, instead of being on the ground floor or even one charitable floor up, they were on the sixth floor. Shit.]

Any rope?

[No, of course not, it was a principle's office. Instead, he grabbed at the nearest piece of furniture, already imaging it as rope in his hands, tying it around the sturdiest looking desk. No point in trying to be subtle when the projections were already onto them.]

I'll go first or find your own way down.

[Without waiting for an answer, he was already sliding down as fast as possible.]

I'm coming—

[ Eames is already going. Dammit. Heine almost complains, but he's more practical instead, closing the door and jamming a chair under the knob. Eames is maybe a floor down when Heine follows, climbing out the window and starting to skid his way down, rope burn immediately streaking his hands.

But it's an escape route. Even though, as they're passing the third floor, a burst of bullets sprays through the window. ]

[The burst of bullets was going to make Eames swear colorfully under his breath as he tried to speed up the process without his hands protesting too much, but a few bullets grazed at his legs.

As he hit the ground he took shelter underneath a nearby awning, waiting for Heine to get the rest of the way, trying to fire back at the projections.]

It might be best if we do get caught! We'd wake up then!

[He couldn't trust Elena to wake them up, after all.]

[ Heine jumps down the rest of the way, hissing in pain when he lands hard and his leg buckles. It's not broken, but his ankle protests as he stumbles under the awning as well. ]

And then what? Elena's still there.

If the both of us can't take Elena, we might have to consider a new profession.

[Though they might be sluggish upon waking, doubly so if Elena had tampered with the sedative at all.

He glanced over at Heine, mouth in a thin grim line.]

It's better than dodging these projections, unless you have a better idea?

...no. Fine.

[ So now's the problem of waking up. Heine glances around briefly. The sound of the projections is rising again. Despite his best instincts, Heine starts to move toward them. Getting shot always sucks, but at least it'll be quick. ]

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idk if you had anything in mind, if not i can edit so something happens

YEAH let's wing it

\o/

I ALSO FORGET SOME INCEPTION LOGIC THINGS... SRY

do not worry who needs logic

definitely not inception

definitely not but sssh you can steal things from people's minds

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