Nolan Did Not Forsee This

This Person Seriously Calls Their LJ "Sid Vicious"

...When you have to call your livejournal "Sid-Vicious03", please do us all a favor and take that as a sign that you need to call your damn journal something else. Anything else. You are missing the point of punk rock entirely, not that he got it either, you -------

My ranting is not the point. My point is this story. You see, this is a fic about Inception. It was a mind-blowing movie about stealing from dreams, and it had the character Arthur in a zero-gravity fight scene, kicking ass while coming up with a brilliant idea on the fly. It had the character Eames, smarmy but talented, and badass enough to take out a whole army of projections on snowmobiles, who also had a snow-capable humvee. They were awesome characters and the runaway fan favorites. Some appreciate them for their awesomeness.

Some...do this.

"Les morts sont toujours avec nous"

(Why are you writing in French you wannabe pretentious----) (Hypertension, family history of hypertension)

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Summary – One dog brought them together, and another one kept them together.

Okay. Okay, I need a drink to get through this. I have a whole brand new bottle of caramel Bailey's. Anyone?

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’’As much as i love bickering with you Arthur, please. Not now, just, just let me in. Please.’’ Eames voice sounded weak, or it was just Arthur’s mind that tricked him. It was three am, for all Arthur knew, Eames could be drunk. It wouldn’t be the first time that the forger had turned up drunk in the middle of the night at Arthur’s doorstep.

This is the first paragraph, and I spot five spelling/punctuation/grammatical errors. (Takes a long sip.)

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Arthur’s words got stuck in his throat the second he saw him. Eames looked as if he had been sleeping on the streets for days in a row, if he even had been sleeping. His eyes were all red and Eames looked thin, as if he had been starving the last few days. Arthur’s first thought was that someone had gotten a hold of Eames, someone that wasn’t happy with that he worked in the dream sharing business. But there were no wounds to be seen. Eames shirt was wrinkled yes, but there wasn’t sign of blood.

I'm not even going to point out the technical errors. I'll just empty the bottle. Let's instead wonder at this little writer's complete and total lack of imagination. Arthur himself said that the military initially used the dreamshare technology to train their troops, so that they could withstand pain, and dish it out. Why in the world would you torture a man's physical body when you can just put him under and make it absolutely endless? Wouldn't that be Arthur's first conclusion? And shouldn't his next be "Why would they let him go?" I feel like anyone in such an illegal and dangerous business would immediately think Eames had been used to lead them right to Arthur.

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After half of his cup of coffee, Arthur gathered together the ripped parts of his sanity and gathered his courage together. He had been working with Dominic Cobb, who’s projection of his wife enjoyed shooting and killing him. Even if it was a dream, it still hurt in his knee when he thought back of it

This is a random paragraph that has no bearing on the rest of the story. It's just randomly put in there. We know Mal shot Arthur in the dream. We all saw the damn movie. What is the point? And if Arthur gets phantom pain in his knee from something that never actually happened, wouldn't he be in constant pain? He's been tortured in dreams, ripped apart by projections, etc. Why would that one make a difference?

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‘’I had to put down King Ellie. My dog Arthur.’’ Eames snapped and looked up to Arthur with almost furious eyes. But they softened quickly and seemed almost tearful again. And now, Arthur felt really stupid. He had even met the dog, the so called King Ellie, but he had forgotten about her since he hadn’t paid that much attention to her. And here Eames was, trying to get some comfort because Arthur knew of the dog, and then he had forgotten about her.

Jesus fucking Christ. I should have known this fic would take such a turn for the absolute stupid. I lost a dog, my childhood pet. And I cried, I mourned, and moved past it. I didn't stumble the streets, starving myself, looking like a haggard homeless person, before throwing myself on my coworker's doorstep. And if I, a person who had never really dealt with loss before Casey didn't do that, I seriously doubt an ex-soldier who has no doubt lost quite a few friends is going to go to this extreme. I can't even process how ludicrous this is.

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‘’My mother used to say.’’ Arthur said and shifted around a bit, Eames looked up from the red coffee cup and focused those cried red eyes on him, and for once Arthur could actually return the gaze. ‘’Les morts sont toujours avec nous, d'une manière ou d'une autre. Mais certainement dans nos coeurs.’’

Your Google translate is functioning well, little writer.

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Eames frowned a bit, and Arthur wasn’t quite sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. ‘’Since when do you speak French?’’ Eames asked, and that was most definitely not the answer that Arthur had expected.

‘’I’ve always spoken French, I grew up with that language from my mom’s side.’’ Arthur said, not really understanding why it was such a wonder really.

‘’Are you from France?’’ Eames asked then, drinking a little bit more from the coffee, soon Arthur would have to refill the cup if he wanted more.

‘’No I’m not from France.’’ Arthur replied annoyed, he hated when people thought he was from France just because he spoke French. ‘’I’m from Belgium.’’

‘’They speak French in Belgium?’’ Eames questioned, just taking the matter further away from the original subject.

For those who don't know, Eames is a Brit, English specifically. Now, as a citizen of the United States, I don't always know a lot about European countries. But I knew that French is spoken in Belgium. I feel like the globe-trotting dream-thieves would know that as well. I feel like the author just did a World History report on Belgium.

I also feel inexplicable rage because Arthur, an American, who served in the American military, who speaks with an American accent, is suddenly, randomly, Belgian. WTF? What is the point of this? Will it ever come up again? Is it relevant? No? Then why did you change a character's nationality?

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‘’Yes they do. Anyway!’’ Arthur said and put his cup back down on the counter and made sure that Eames wouldn’t talk up more. ‘’Translated, she would be saying; The dead are always with us, in one way or another. But definitely in our hearts.’’ Arthur said, looking to Eames who looked down again, staring into his coffee cup. Arthur looked down, silently tapping his fingers on the counter as he thought it through.

Google-Fu is strong in this one.

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‘’I haven’t slept, for days because of this.’’ Eames said on a low tone and got of the chair. He swallowed. ‘’I haven’t slept in five days.’’ Arthur looked over his shoulder to Eames, not quite sure what to say to that. He wanted to offer Eames some sleeping pills, but he knew the other would refuse.

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"Several other normal research subjects have remained awake for eight to 10 days in carefully monitored experiments. None of these individuals experienced serious medical, neurological, physiological or psychiatric problems. On the other hand, all of them showed progressive and significant deficits in concentration, motivation, perception and other higher mental processes as the duration of sleep deprivation increased."-
Scientific American

So, after five days or randomly staying awake, a person really shouldn't be able to wander the streets unattended without getting hit by a car. Also, five days, really? I'm not trying to sound heartless here, I'm not, but

Spoiler:

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A month later Eames was still staying with Arthur and had successfully adapted himself to Arthur’s way of living. The small kisses of Eames started to show up more frequent, a kiss in his neck when Arthur tried to fix together that spaghetti Eames loved. A kiss on his shoulder when Arthur was reading a book in the evening just before Eames would sleep. A kiss on the small of his back when Arthur didn’t want to get up in the mornings and Eames had to wake him up so he wouldn’t be late for work. Eames had later revealed that he got up that early in the morning himself just for Arthur’s sake.

Some dude it still living with you a month after his dog died, and now he's kissing you. That's a relationship. A creepy, weird, OMGWTF relationship. It sounds like a stalker scam. He pretends he's mourning so he can get in the house, and then he never leaves. He just stays with you. Forever. And ever. And ever. (And ever.)

(And WTF job is Arthur even doing that close to home? They did inception, they don't have to work at all anymore.)

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That evening Arthur had given Eames a kiss instead of the other way around. He really was scared of loosing Eames now, he liked his company far too much to let him go. He would miss someone to hold in the middle of the night, he would miss the touches and the kisses.

(Screams into a pillow)

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Arthur didn’t know much about dogs, he always kept calling James and Phillipa’s dog a Dalmatian, just to have the children correct him that their dog, Mitchie, was a golden retriever. But this dog, Arthur was sure of wasn’t a Dalmatian, or a golden retriever for that sake. With all the white and grey, extremely thick, fur.

...We're just going to move past this mind-blowing stupidity without comment.

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‘’And old english sheep dog, boy you are going to love taking care of his fur when he gets bigger.’’

That's it. That's the last sentence. No conclusion, nothing. Just this utter and complete stupidity.

I don't even know what this is. It's not good. We've seen worse fics, yes, but the utter and complete stupidity of this one just grates on my nerves. Why would these people even have dogs? They made it clear in the movie that they occasionally have to drop everything and leave, and are sometimes gone for months. That kind of thing doesn't mesh well with owning such a high-maintenance animal. Eames was gambling with counterfeit money in Mombasa when the movie started, and he took off with Cobb at the drop of a hat. That doesn't leave a lot of room for a pet.

Why are they reduced to such weepy, emotional morons here? They're not portrayed as such. Why would you want to bring them down to this level of utter stupidity? What is the point?

(Takes another long sip) I hate this whole fandom some days.

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I have a whole brand new bottle of caramel Bailey's. Anyone?

Please. Oh God yes.

textrix wrote:

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I have a whole brand new bottle of caramel Bailey's. Anyone?

Please. Oh God yes.

(Pours you a glass) Did you read the part where they're talking about their relationship? (Shudders) Fucking hell, where does this stupidity even come from?

I love how Arthur is just suddenly Belgian for no reason at all

Lapin wrote:

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Arthur didn’t know much about dogs, he always kept calling James and Phillipa’s dog a Dalmatian, just to have the children correct him that their dog, Mitchie, was a golden retriever. But this dog, Arthur was sure of wasn’t a Dalmatian, or a golden retriever for that sake. With all the white and grey, extremely thick, fur.

...We're just going to move past this mind-blowing stupidity without comment.

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Naaaah. I can see how it'd be easy to mix those two up.

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(Pours you a glass) Did you read the part where they're talking about their relationship? (Shudders) Fucking hell, where does this stupidity even come from?

Why thank you. And by their relationship I think you mean their--quote--"romantic involvement." And yes, yes I did.

I laughed so hard at this. His dog died so he wandered sleepless in the streets for five days. I know fanbrats love the melodrama, but COME ON (I love dogs too, everyone). If I try to put my finger on what exactly makes this hilarious, I think it's less about the overemotion, and more about the way he expresses it. If I was sad about my dog dying, at the worst, I'd stay in bed and cry. You know. But wandering the streets? If we're going for epic overkill he might as well be dressed in sackcloth and pouring ashes on his head.

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The thank you that Eames gave him, sounded hoarse, which lead Arthur to the conclusion that he had to have been screaming

Has anyone seen the Vampire's Kiss with Nicholas Cage? I'm sort of picturing it like that. And this, starting at 4:23. "I'm a vampire! My dog died! Kill me! Kill me!"

Anyway, awesome snark. I'm still laughing.

The "Google-Fu" comment was particularly awesome. You are made of win.

This fic is made of fail.

It's just...dumb, lame, and boring. And completely pointless. Where's the emo, but smoking-hawt romance I thought I was going to get? Huh? Inquiring minds want to know.

Also, what are the odds of an American knowing what languages they speak in Belgium, and the English guy not having a clue? Oh, I forgot, Arthur is from Belgium, now. Yeah, that makes total sense.

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I have a whole brand new bottle of caramel Bailey's. Anyone?

I could use a bottle...or two.
Poor Arthur and Eames. When will the fanbrats learn?

I think my favourite part was the end.
The absolute zero sense that it made.
Good stuff.

That is one unimpressed-looking Dalmation.

There are no words. O.o