Hey! This starts with Nash's first appearance in the comic "The Cobol Job", straight through the script of "The Big Under" and what happens after he is dragged offscreen in Inception by the Cobol thugs.
If you hadn't read/watched any of those, I suggest you go to the Inceptionwikia and look them up, otherwise this won't make much sense.
Cobb doesn't trust me. I see it in his eyes. He doesn't flinch when he looks at me, you don't stay alive in this business with your emotions broadcasting like that. He hardly even moves, it's more of a quiver; starting in his eyes and traveling through his body until his toes clench inside of leather shoes that none of us could have afforded in the real world.
I allow myself a small smirk at his annoyance, shifting it to a leer and a deliberate sideways flick of my eyes towards the pretty young secretary in Kaneda's office building. Cobb huffs, a small breath hardly more than sigh, but I know when he's pissed off. I've worked with him long enough.
When I couldn't make it as a job I turned my habit of people-watching into a hobby.
See, I wanted to be a forger, was one for a little while, actually. Trained by the American government as a regular architect for the military, I made myself into the best of the best, even when I wasn't. Having connections in high places is a smart idea, and being underestimated isn't always such tragedy. Soon enough I began dealing with the more, shall we say interesting jobs, and first that the joke called forgery was real.
It's a simple matter, at the basics. It all has to do with faith in yourself, to know the person and to know yourself so intimately that you become the facade while still holding your own identity.
A little case of neurosis and OCD might help, but the most important part of all is to remember you are lying.
And of course I fail that part, a simple little extraction from a mob boss and the simple little role as his most loyal assistant and there I go shooting up my dear old comrades while they bust into my "boss's" personal safe. Safe to say, we failed miserably, and I ended up with a bullet in my gut and a knife yanked across my throat as I shifted back into my real body from the pain.
I got hell for that, later, both from my co-workers and my employers.
Fuckers deserved it, anyway. Fucking fags tried to cheat me of my pay.
So there I go, on the run from the government, pals with all the worst little extractors who pissed off the wrong guy and work for pennies stealing secrets you could get from Google, when my knight in shining armor and his little boy-toy come to rescue me and bring me to the Big Leagues.
Arthur and Cobb, the two best extractors, having to rely on me.
They couldn't do without me, though, not many skilled architects work on the other side of the fence. I might not be the best, hell, I know I'm not, and I see details easier on people than on buildings, but I do a pretty decent job with everything else. They have no reason to complain.
Except for that fact that even I wouldn't trust me, but really, we all have the same motives here, right? Once those goals differ, however...
Cobb and a couple Cobol thugs stride in, the latter few glancing around furtively, as if even in dreams they haven't visited such a high-class area. Cobb looks completely at home in a posh suit and gelled back hair, I'm not surprised. He glances towards me for information on our situation.
'The natives are getting restless'
Cobb stiffens at my harmless remark. I wonder which 'native' here has plucked at his little heart-strings already? I don't pry, whatever lies behind his icy blue eyes scares the shit out of me. Honestly, what the Hell happened to him? Poor Arthur, he'll have to deal with the fallout when Cobb breaks.
I'll be long gone by then.
But, damn, that receptionist is fine. Too bad she's just a projection, I'd definitely do her in the real world. Hell, maybe here. I'd even say she's checking me out, but the subject's a paranoid, so it probably has more to do with the fact that I'm the dreamer in Mr. Kaneda's worst nightmare than any physical characteristics.
I'd thought about making myself slightly more handsome, a small forgery, but figured that was a bit too gay, and did I really want to impress the Cobol thugs and a few projections? More important things to worry about.
Ah, there's the signal, I race towards the exit with my heart beating slower than it did when I was flirting with little old 'sweet pea' secretary. She didn't seem all that shocked when I called her that. Pansy ass Kaneda probably likes that sort of thing. My shoes slip upon the polished floor and I yank on the handle of the maintenance door in order to regain my balance. I glance around quickly to see if anyone had seen, not that I cared about the embarrassment, but more about the fact I didn't want any projections following me in.
The maintenance door is a neat little trick, a paradox in which you appear to go in a straight corridor while ascending multiple levels. Arthur helped, perhaps he's not the most imaginative sort but he is efficient and logical. Can fix any problem, even if the solution's not too inspired. Most people don't give him enough credit for that. It's a pity, really.
I'm still thinking about Arthur when the glass shatters and a dark shadow looms above me.