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[youbarium]

Who| Carlos and YOU.
What| Carlos looks for a proper lab coat and tape recorder and also does some exploring. He has a lot of questions, and not just for direction to the marketplace.
Where| Tribute center and the streets of the Capitol. Wednesday he'll be looking for the Districts marketplace. Thursday he's just exploring.
When| Wednesday afternoon and all day Thursday of week 4.
Warnings/Notes| None for now, but on Thursday, he will be in a lab coat and talking to a little white box in his hand about the landmarks around him.


After being killed in the Arena, Carlos hadn't really wanted to go outside his assigned living space. It was a relief to be alive and animate, sure. Carlos wasn't taking that for granted. It was just that -- well, he'd never died before. Trying not to think about it wasn't working, thanks to a lifetime of aggressively critical thinking and a year of resolutely staring the horrifying in the face. He had practically trained himself to be unable to ignore the things that unsettled him the most.

How did they bring me back? he had wondered, staring down at his folded hands as he sat too-still on the bed they said was his. Did they collect my body and reanimate it? Or am I an identical copy, with memories that belong to someone else? How can I be sure that I am the same person who died in the museum? But that only led to more unanswerable questions and a heavy sense of existential dread, neither of which Carlos could quite shake.

So, when the sun came up the next morning, Carlos took a hot shower, dressed in the plainest clothes he could find and set off to explore the city. After all, a scientist should always be familiar with his surroundings and absolutely could not lose a full day to an existential crisis. The first order of business was to find himself a proper lab coat. That way, everyone would know he was a scientist. Then, he had to find a tape recorder. Even if pens and pencils weren't banned here, Carlos had honestly preferred making voice notes.

However, this city was both large and unfamiliar, and Carlos's purposeful strides soon turned to more hesitant steps as the Capitol's buildings began to tower over him. He recognized none of it, and would be asking for directions along his way for most of Wednesday.

Thursday was more relaxed: lab coat and voice recorder acquired, Carlos's goal for that day was to gain a working knowledge of the city layout. Expect to find him exploring both the broad avenues and smaller surface-streets, never really stopping to go into any of the buildings. Instead, he seems to prefer standing in front of them, talking to a small white box in his hand and acting as though this behavior is perfectly normal.

Comments

[finnickohdear]

He may not be from District 4, but Finnick recognized Carlos right away. He made a note of finding out when he had talked with Cecil about the tribute he was infatuated with. He also knew that Carlos had died and come back to the Capitol and now he was lucky enough to come across him right here in the Tribute Center. He was curious, but wanted to be gentle about approaching someone newly dead.

"Carlos, right? From District 10?"

[youbarium]

Carlos turned when he heard his name, not sure if he should be surprised or not. After all, he'd been in a small town for nearly a year, and everyone who listened to Cecil Palmer's radio show knew his name. But here he was a stranger, right? This was a big city, and there were dozens of people in that museum. Surely he wouldn't be on first-name terms with the entire Capitol.

"That's me," he said, meeting the stranger's gaze with curiosity.

[finnickohdear]

"Welcome back to the Capitol. I'm Finnick Odair, I'm a mentor for District 4, but I've heard a lot about you so far."

He assumed Carlos knew he'd caught the eye of a very enthusiastic radio host who was spreading talk of him all over the Capitol. That didn't make it any less unsettling, but Finnick didn't want to push too hard.

"Are you adjusting to being back alright?"

[youbarium]

Carlos held out a hand politely. "Thank you. I'm -- " no need to introduce yourself, he already knows you, and probably already knows that you're a scientist-- "...pleased to meet you." He didn't assume Cecil yet: if this Finnick is a mentor, then he probably paid attention to the tributes and knew about him from there.

But then again, the Cecil here did have a radio show. And if Cecil had a radio show, the odds were heavily in the favor of Cecil having mentioned him already. Really, Finnick could have heard of Carlos from either place, and since Carlos didn't particularly want to bring up Cecil, he didn't ask. Instead, he decided to answer Finnick's question.

"It's odd," Carlos admitted honestly, "coming back to life. I've never seen anything like this, and I've seen a lot of strange things over the past year. But nothing like this has happened to me before."

[finnickohdear]

"If it makes you feel any better we haven't really seen anything like it either, at least until we started taking you tributes from your worlds and bringing you here. But I guess I'm grateful to not have to experience it myself."

He took Carlos's hand firmly and turned it into a friendly half hug and a hearty pat on his shoulder. There was some solidarity to be shared here. Finnick could see more easily than most that Carlos was going to be bid on, and possibly not just by Cecil.

"There are some experiences here that I can share with you, even if you're not one of my tributes. If you ever need advice from someone who's been down the long road, let me know. And I can probably help keep Cecil off your back if you need it."

[youbarium]

Ah. So it was Cecil. The response is immediate and visible -- not horror or disgust, but a tired sort of resignation. It's an old embarrassment, one he was surprised to find here but is honestly used to. "No," he says, shaking his head. "Don't worry about Cecil. I can handle it. I knew someone very much like him in the last dimension I was in, and he was never a problem. Just a little embarrassing."

Carlos hasn't begun to guess at what the tributes go through outside of the Arena: no one has told him about bidding yet. He thinks the worst he'll have to deal with is ardent and slightly-creepy but easily ignored romantic overtures.

[finnickohdear]

Finnick wasn't convinced Carlos knew what he was in for. But it probably wasn't the time to tell him what he was in for.

"Just know that you're not alone here, that can help. And Cecil doesn't mean any harm, he's just extremely overzealous. It happens to a lot of people who live in this city their whole lives."

He also wanted to hammer home that Cecil wasn't the same man Carlos thought he knew. They might be similar, but they couldn't be exactly the same.

[youbarium]

Carlos caught Finnick's meaning. This Cecil wasn't the same as the one from Night Vale. Half an hour over coffee had been enough to convince Carlos of that. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, and didn't particularly want to examine it, but it felt too akin to disappointment for comfort.

Finnick's friendliness was certainly appreciated, though. Actually, Finnick was the first person Carlos had encountered outside of the Arena who was treating him like a human being and not a -- a trained animal who did interesting tricks. That made Carlos, who had an incredible amount of questions, want to direct those questions at him. "You said you were from District 4, correct? Meaning that you lived there before you were brought here for the Games?"

Finnick just might be able to tell him about the world outside the Capitol, something Carlos was very interested in hearing about. He knew something already, about a District Thirteen that looked dead but wasn't, but Carlos couldn't for the life of him place where that knowledge had come from, and he didn't trust it, not without outside validation.

[finnickohdear]

"Yes, I even lived there for a little while after I won." Finnick told him with a smirk. "One might even say I'm still from District 4."

He knows a bit about Carlos from what Cecil had told him and he could see the interest and the desire for information and knowledge that he had heard about here and there. Finnick could guess where this was going.

"Did you have some questions about Panem?"

[youbarium]

"Naturally," said Carlos, breaking into a smile -- a friendly smile, quite nice. "Speaking as a scientist, and also speaking as someone who is effectively trapped here for an indeterminate amount of time, I'd like to know more about where I am. The thing is...I have a lot of questions. Do you have time to answer them?"

Wednesday

[hotelcicero]

Shopping is Velma's bread and butter. There's little point in money if you're not spending it, after all. And, more than that, all the trimmings and treats money could buy served a greater purpose than just being aesthetically appealing. Like the bright colors of a venomous frog, they were a statement of protection. So long as she still had that, still had the fancy clothes and gorgeous hair, it didn't much matter she was stuck back in the mentor ring. Velma Kelly was still untouchable. By most of the population, anyway.

She had her eye far more on a scarf in her hand than out for any other shoppers, but the hesitant steps of a man lost were still easy to notice just out of the corner of her eye. After she glanced over it took her half a second before it clicked. She knew that face, it was that little lab rat Cecil had been drooling over. It was luck enough to run across him, but here, out on his own to top it off? She had to bite her lip to stop the smile from getting too big.

"Looking a little lost there, honey."

[youbarium]

Carlos turned around, unsure for a moment who was addressing him -- and, indeed, if he was the one being addressed. But no one around him looked lost at all, and that woman was looking right at him. Two and two made four.

"Me?" asked Carlos, clearly out of his element. "No, I'm not lost. Not exactly. I'm just looking for something in particular, but I'm not sure where to find it."

He was in the right area, if he understood the layout right: there was an area of the shopping center meant for clothes, so lab coats had to be around here somewhere, right? Maybe this woman would know where to look.

[hotelcicero]

"Well, let's see what I can do for you, hm? Believe me, I've been around the block a time or two."

She stepped forward fully intending, if he didn't dart away, to weave one of her arms through his, firmly making them a shopping pair for the afternoon. If he did resist? Well, she knew how to recover gracefully. But it would take some of the fun out of the tour.

[youbarium]

Taken by surprise, Carlos found his arm plucked by this strange, possibly-friendly-but-maybe-not woman. It was out of his hands, and fighting it seemed, well, not in his best interests. Not if he wanted her help finding what he was looking for.

"I need a lab coat," he said, "and a hand-held voice recorder. Do they sell those things here?"

[hotelcicero]

"In this city? Oh, everything's for sale."

People very much included, even if the costs may vary. Her smile melted into a small, nearly pouting frown as she seriously considered the requests, however. The voice recorder she could do, a little out of style, but whatever made the man happy. That first bit, though? She had no idea. But that didn't stop her from pulling them along at a fairly brisk pace.

"But is that a coat for work or pleasure, hm?"

[youbarium]

Velma had no idea what she'd just walked into.

"Well," Carlos said, "I guess I'd better start with a business-casual lab coat. That'll be the most versatile. I'd like a casual one for everyday wear, of course, but that can wait. ...do you think it would be worthwhile to get a formal one? Considering I'm a Tribute in the Hunger Games and as I understand it will be expected to attend several formal events, it might be worth the expense."

Thursday

[orestes]

It had been pure chance that Enjolras had spotted him. The man seemed lost. Not terribly, not cripplingly lost as many people were when they woke up the first time after an Arena. Not even as lost as Enjolras himself had been in the same situation. He seemed, however, out of sorts. Nonetheless, this man carried himself with a sort of clinical precision which was to be admired. He walked, strode, perhaps, but did not loaf or saunter as did so many of the Capitol's citizens.

It was only with a small amount of amusement that he noted the man's hair. It remained far from the object of true perfection which certain of Enjolras' acquaintances might claim it to be, but it was... Nice. Obviously well kept. He felt chagrined to have noticed it at all. It made what he had to say all the more awkward.

"Pardon me, monsieur," he said in lieu of a true greeting as he approached Carlos. Enjolras' own perfect curls billowed slightly behind him. They had grown long in the absence of the Arena and he couldn't be bothered to keep up with them. "May I have a word?"

[youbarium]

A quick analysis of the stranger revealed several points of data. One, the man carried himself with dignity and self-possession. Two, his dress was plain, or at least plainer than the citizens of the Capitol favored. Three, his hair was glorious, if a bit unkempt. Finally, Carlos had been greeted quite directly -- and with French.

Current hypothesis: French, Carlos thought, and would have put onto his tape recorder if such a gesture would not have been horribly impolite. Of course, it's possible that he is a native local who simply has overzealous affection for the French language, but his clothes make me think he's been brought in like the rest of us. But the data doesn't lie: he is definitely, probably French.

"--certainly," he said aloud, a cloud of concern passing over his face at Enjolras's tone. "Is there a problem?"

[orestes]

"I--" Enjolras began, cutting himself short. He was terribly lost, having no idea how to broach the subject. All he knew is that this man deserved to be warned of what awaited him, if he hadn't experienced it already. A dreadful thought caught him then, and Enjolras couldn't help but frown at it. What if Cecil had somehow used his influence to greet this man upon his resurrection? It was difficult for him not to shutter at the proposition. "Not immediately, I hope. No, there is no problem for the moment."

He turned away then, again searching for the words to continue his thought, the words to truly get to the heart of why he had called out to the attractive stranger. "That is to say," he continued, blue eyes finally meeting Carlos' with a strange and ethereal intensity. "I had hoped to warn you of a particular citizen. You have captured his attention and he is... To be frank, I find him unsettling. You are new here, are you not? This is an odd greeting, but I suspect that if you were approached first by Cecil Palmer, it would be worse still."

Okay, so that wasn't quite up to his usual standard of eloquence, but it was in the open now. He could explain and clarify later, now that the conversation had at least begun.

[youbarium]

Good Goddard, this again? Carlos thought with resignation that, at this point, borders on amusement. In Night Vale, the citizens had been full of good-natured winks and nods (at least, Carlos had interpreted them as winks and nods, but they had actually been closer to pained grimaces and shaking fits), and the scientists had teased him mercilessly, but here, people seemed worried about it. It was ironic, honestly, considering that Carlos found the Capitol's version of Cecil Palmer significantly less threatening than Night Vale's.

"Oh -- I know," Carlos said. "I mean, I know he's infatuated, and I know he can be...well, unsettling is not an inaccurate description. But I've dealt with this kind of thing before." His manner was casual, confident. It wasn't that Carlos didn't appreciate this handsome stranger's concern, far from it: the gesture was kind. Carlos gave Enjolras an easy shrug and a brilliant but slightly self-depreciating smile. "It's embarrassing, but I can handle it."

[orestes]

To say that the flippancy surprised Enjolras would have been an understatement. He'd been so worried about broaching the subject that he found this non-reaction, well, in many ways anti-climactic. Would he not be required to explain himself further? Did this man not have any other questions? What had this scientist been doing to merit being so familiar with such strange and unseemly attention? The questions whirled in his head, gears visibly turning behind perplexed blue eyes as his brow furrowed back in Carlos' general direction.

"... I am sorry?" He finally said, well, inquired really. It had certainly held the tone of a question anyway, and besides, he didn't really know what he was apologizing for. The breach of privacy, perhaps, or maybe he was apologizing for the idea that Carlos had reason to be familiar with such things at all. Being so accustomed to such an overbearing man seemed like a special kind of Hell in itself. He settled on something between the two. "I should apologize. I did not mean to imply that you could not, nor did I wish to seem, how do you say? Nosy, regarding your proclivities, I just-- Well, I suppose you know, then."

[youbarium]

Carlos broke into a laugh, then covered his face with a hand and shook his head. "It's not that I don't appreciate the warning," he explained, looking back up at Enjolras with dark eyes, deep as any ocean, sweet as any harmony. "I know how this looks, and to be honest it's kind of a relief to see someone react to it, well, normally." He knew he had better explain, and took a moment to pull a breath, to get his thoughts in order for this complicated and honestly hard-to-believe explanation.

"When I say I've dealt with this before, I mean it very literally. I have dealt with exactly this before. In the world I came from, there was a radio host named Cecil Palmer, who was just as infatuated as this one, maybe more. They have the same face, the same voice, the same hair, the same tendency to publicize their personal lives -- other than the body modification, they're identical." Another breath, as Carlos considered how best to express the complicated feelings he had about Cecil and Cecil. "I won't say he's harmless. Actually, the Cecil Palmer I knew could be very sinister, and I never could figure out where his moral compass pointed. But he was never a problem. He never pushed, or followed me, or forced me to do anything I didn't want to. Honestly, all he really did was treat our business meetings like dates. Oh, and he did call for the lynching of the man who cut my hair, but Telly went insane a few weeks later anyway, so nothing really came of it."

Yes, that was about how far into it Carlos wanted to go: professional, casual, practical.

[orestes]

There are multiple things onto which Enjolras could have attached himself in those simple statements. The fact that this Telly individual had gone insane, the fact that Cecil had threatened him over something as simple and transient as hair, the fact that someone's parents had named them Telly at all. It's all quite overwhelming and he finds himself instead not-quite-gaping at the beautiful scientist's mysterious nonchalance. There's also an ugly part of him that wants to ask exactly how Carlos is so unfazed, so casual about such degenerative infatuation, but he pushes it away for the moment. He doesn't know the man well enough for any of that. In fact, he doesn't know him at all, which had been the issue to begin with.

"You know him, then?" Though the question was a compromise of his better judgment, it still betrayed a more than polite interest in the answer. He closed his eyes and pensively bit at his lips, delicate features still a mask of confusion and mild concern. "I will confess that the people here are very odd to me indeed. The more I understand of their motivations the more puzzling and upsetting I find them. I do not wish make unfounded insinuations, but I would be wary of him regardless of what you think you know."

[youbarium]

This stranger was gorgeous, Carlos thinks, but maybe not quite so quick on the uptake. Of course I know him, I just told you so. But really, Carlos shouldn't judge -- he knew the idea of alternate-universe doubles was a lot to take in, and he can't fault Enjolras some well-intentioned confusion.

"Yes, I know him," Carlos says. "At least, I knew the version who lived in Night Vale. You're right, of course, they're different people, I know that." Although Carlos's voice isn't very emotionally expressive at all, an attentive listener just might pick up on a quiet note of sadness, or...disappointment? It's gone as quickly as it came, though. "But the similarities are pronounced, and while the one in Night Vale was...difficult sometimes, and overbearing, and much too personal, and oblivious to the many dangerous things around him -- working with him wasn't impossible. I'd maintained a professional relationship with him for nearly a year before I came here. All you have to do is just ignore anything he says that's not important." It is a simple, sometimes awkward but generally effective solution.

"And about his motivations -- well, considering what he was like in Night Vale, I'm not too worried. The City Council and the Sheriff's Secret Police make Panem look positively utopian."

[orestes]

If possible, his eyebrows raise further. Enjolras can't help the shock from reading on his face, the dismay at what this handsome man is implying. How the devil could anything make Panem look Utopian? And what had this man, this Carlos, lived through to arrive at such a conclusion? Even the inequalities rampant in Paris, although comparable to those of their current nation, were not malicious so much as negligent.

"Why would law enforcement need to be secret? In a just society, the people have nothing to fear from their government and those who uphold their laws." A just society being the key element of that phrase, although even Enjolras couldn't shirk the gnawing feeling in his stomach every time they were forced to deal with the Peacekeepers, or the adrenaline rush of passing notes in shorthand in front of the National Guardsmen. He pauses for a moment, partially in recollection, and partially to digest another piece of what Carlos had said. "Forgive me, but Palmer is not originally from the Capitol? He seemed to be native to this place."