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[The first thing Arthur does is, very casually, rest her hand against her jacket pocket she ought to have a Glock hidden in. It’s not there, of course, because she doesn’t carry weapons that obvious in reality unless on a job, and this isn’t a dream. She doesn’t even bother with her die, because this is so obviously not reality that there’s not even a point.
Luckily for Arthur, though, she’s a woman who does her research, and it doesn’t take her very much casual strolling before she happens upon the kiosk, which helpfully informs her... nonsensical things. This is not exactly an average dream, and in one heart-stopping moment she realizes this might very well be her limbo.] Fuck. [Though, admittedly, she has a strange sort of creativity and elegance to her design. Unless it's someone else's limbo? Oh god, she can’t even remember what she was doing when she landed down here. This is, to understate enormously, very not good.
Tl;dr there’s a woman in an incredibly gorgeous suit looking like she’s just died.]
Luckily for Arthur, though, she’s a woman who does her research, and it doesn’t take her very much casual strolling before she happens upon the kiosk, which helpfully informs her... nonsensical things. This is not exactly an average dream, and in one heart-stopping moment she realizes this might very well be her limbo.] Fuck. [Though, admittedly, she has a strange sort of creativity and elegance to her design. Unless it's someone else's limbo? Oh god, she can’t even remember what she was doing when she landed down here. This is, to understate enormously, very not good.
Tl;dr there’s a woman in an incredibly gorgeous suit looking like she’s just died.]
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