Eames' shoulders shake with a voiceless chuckle at the title he's managed to gain. He'd give John sugar alright, quite gladly. As much is suggested in the playful wink that he throws at the man.

Eames presses his hand on top of his cards and pulls them half up from the mattress to peek at them before he leaves them face down on the mattress. Two sharks at the table, it's exactly how he likes it.

The list of John's occupational titles makes him arch his brows, obviously fascinated. "Of the catholic fascination or something else?" he asks curiously. Because he feels that's not it. But at the same time, what else could it be? "A pleasure to meet you, John." He gestures at himself before he drops two kernels of popcorn to the pot between them. "Eames. They haven't found a title broad enough for me yet. But let's say an artist." That's a broad enough description of what he does.