The profoundest fact, by someinstant (M)
Feb. 27th, 2012 12:13 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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het_reccersFandom Category: Inception
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Fic Title: The profoundest fact
Author: someinstant
Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/114912
Rating/Warning(s): violence
Genre: post-film. Drama/romance/hurt-comfort
WIP?: no
Why This Must Be Read: This author nails the Inception universe. A job goes awry for Arthur, and he ends up relying on Ariadne for help - who he hasn't seen since he'd broken off a relationship with her. It's a long fic at around 23k. This is really excellent, the settings-descriptions are so realistic one feels like being there with them and the utter competence of both Arthur and Ariadne is fantastic. Backstory development and pitch-perfect characterization. This whole story has the feel of a dash of film noire which is utterly fantastic. It also feels thoroughly researched and that is such a refreshing, wonderful change.
There's a sequel too, which is just as good at around 20k.
He had thought, perhaps, that she would have picked someplace innocuous: a cheap room by the airport, or a hostel, somewhere. An anonymous sort of place. But the taxi turned off the wide avenue near the river and onto the long manicured drive of toward a towering glass box hotel instead, the sort of place that hummed-- a low, harmonious tone-- with class. At any other moment, he would have been pleased-- but right now, fewer than thirty hours removed from a double murder and sour with sweat, he wasn't sure he was appropriately dressed for the drunk tank in the city jail. People would notice.
"This isn't low-profile," he said, tensing beside her. "Ariadne--"
"Quiet," she instructed, softly, eying the cab driver. He was ignoring them, bopping his head along to the radio. "And don't call me that when we get in. The room's in my name, which is Sara Webb at the moment. I checked in at two this afternoon, and made a big deal about the fact that my boyfriend hadn't met me at the airport like he promised he would."
"That would be me," Arthur guessed. Webb was one of the three aliases Cobb had had him create for her during the Fischer job; unless Ariadne had used it in the last two years, it ought to be clean. He didn't think she had. Miles said she hadn't taken a job since the last one they'd worked together.
"That would be you," she agreed. "Your first name's Neil, by the way-- I didn't mention a last name. The guy at the front desk was very concerned, and had a car drop me off at the U.S. Embassy around three this afternoon."
Arthur relaxed a little; it wasn't a bad story, actually. And this sort of hotel was discreet, with relatively decent security-- not to mention room service. God, room service. "So I was mugged, maybe."
"Probably the easiest thing," she agreed. "It would explain why you're hurt, and why you don't have any bags." The taxi slowed, pulling up to the entrance. A porter wearing a sharp black suit stepped towards the cab, intent on opening the door. Ariadne reached down and squeezed his hand. "You're going to have to act like you want to be around me," she said, looking out her window, away from him. "At least a little bit."
Arthur nodded jerkily. "Of course," he said, his voice rough. That-- really was not the problem.
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Fic Title: The profoundest fact
Author: someinstant
Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/114912
Rating/Warning(s): violence
Genre: post-film. Drama/romance/hurt-comfort
WIP?: no
Why This Must Be Read: This author nails the Inception universe. A job goes awry for Arthur, and he ends up relying on Ariadne for help - who he hasn't seen since he'd broken off a relationship with her. It's a long fic at around 23k. This is really excellent, the settings-descriptions are so realistic one feels like being there with them and the utter competence of both Arthur and Ariadne is fantastic. Backstory development and pitch-perfect characterization. This whole story has the feel of a dash of film noire which is utterly fantastic. It also feels thoroughly researched and that is such a refreshing, wonderful change.
There's a sequel too, which is just as good at around 20k.
He had thought, perhaps, that she would have picked someplace innocuous: a cheap room by the airport, or a hostel, somewhere. An anonymous sort of place. But the taxi turned off the wide avenue near the river and onto the long manicured drive of toward a towering glass box hotel instead, the sort of place that hummed-- a low, harmonious tone-- with class. At any other moment, he would have been pleased-- but right now, fewer than thirty hours removed from a double murder and sour with sweat, he wasn't sure he was appropriately dressed for the drunk tank in the city jail. People would notice.
"This isn't low-profile," he said, tensing beside her. "Ariadne--"
"Quiet," she instructed, softly, eying the cab driver. He was ignoring them, bopping his head along to the radio. "And don't call me that when we get in. The room's in my name, which is Sara Webb at the moment. I checked in at two this afternoon, and made a big deal about the fact that my boyfriend hadn't met me at the airport like he promised he would."
"That would be me," Arthur guessed. Webb was one of the three aliases Cobb had had him create for her during the Fischer job; unless Ariadne had used it in the last two years, it ought to be clean. He didn't think she had. Miles said she hadn't taken a job since the last one they'd worked together.
"That would be you," she agreed. "Your first name's Neil, by the way-- I didn't mention a last name. The guy at the front desk was very concerned, and had a car drop me off at the U.S. Embassy around three this afternoon."
Arthur relaxed a little; it wasn't a bad story, actually. And this sort of hotel was discreet, with relatively decent security-- not to mention room service. God, room service. "So I was mugged, maybe."
"Probably the easiest thing," she agreed. "It would explain why you're hurt, and why you don't have any bags." The taxi slowed, pulling up to the entrance. A porter wearing a sharp black suit stepped towards the cab, intent on opening the door. Ariadne reached down and squeezed his hand. "You're going to have to act like you want to be around me," she said, looking out her window, away from him. "At least a little bit."
Arthur nodded jerkily. "Of course," he said, his voice rough. That-- really was not the problem.
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