Once upon a time, a long, long time ago it seems *significant cough*, I had a Muse. Said Muse would drag me out of bed at 3 AM, at gun point, and make me write. I would get story ideas and scene concepts and all kinds of things at all kinds of hours.

She's been very silent the last few years until a few hours ago, when I was at dinner. I was watching the hibachi chef cook my shrimp when I felt the press of a familiar gun at my back. "You're going to write Arthur/Eames fic. Now, I hope you're paying attention because it starts like this..."

I don't even know. I had 0 plans to start writing slash fic again. Hell, I had 0 plans to start writing FANFIC again; I'm happy with my OCs and my own story worlds.

That having been said, I'm working on the damn fic. Not right now though, 'cause I'm about to end up drooling into the keyboard at this rate. So, anyway, Internets, consider yourself introduced to the gun-wielding, chain-smoking Muse, who will probably send me off to sleep with more fic ideas tonight and will want me to work on this again tomorrow when I should be doing classwork. *sighs*
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Z.W. Rusk

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