ᴄᴀʀʟᴏs || what do you do with a dead scientist? (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
youbarium) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-07-08 11:56 am
youbarium) wrote in thecapitol2014-07-08 11:56 am
Entry tags:
blah blah void blah blah spiders blah blah science [open]
Who| Carlos and anyone
What| Since Carlos's survival hinges on his ability to act like he doesn't care, he's going about his business as usual. Even though he and Cecil had a very short-lived but very public romantic relationship, he's acting like he doesn't care. Come make his life harder. Come ask him how he feels.
Where| The D10 rooms, a coffeeshop, and the Speakeasy
When| After Penny and Cruentus's classy, classy announcement.
Warnings/Notes Possible mention of torture, drinking in the last prompt. Also, the first two prompts will involve Carlos denying any real feelings for Cecil. If you want an honest discussion with him, it'll have to be in the Speakeasy.
PROMPT A: D10 common room
Carlos had known what to expect. Penny had announced that Cecil would be avoxed, after all. He had known this was coming.
That had not made keeping a straight face during the broadcast any easier.
He turned off his communicator and knew that if he was going to make this act convincing, he couldn't hide up in his room all day. Carlos hated this act. It was like he had told one lie in the Arena and hadn't been able to stop lying since. It disgusted him. However, he knew that at this point, he had no choice.
There was no need to fake the irritation on Carlos's face as he walked out into the D10 common area and sat down in one of the chairs. He pulled out a notebook and began to scribble in it. Was he writing or drawing? It would be hard to tell...
PROMPT B: TRIBUTE CENTER COMMONS: GENERIC CAPITOL COFFEESHOP
Here Carlos was, sitting in the very place Dave had brought his last words to Cecil, drinking something too hot for the midsummer weather and talking into his tape recorder. If you get close enough, you might hear snatches of what he was saying:
"--correct about my impending death--"
"--new tactic--"
"--willingly cooperate--"
This part of the Tribute center was open to the public: anyone might pass by and see him.
PROMPT C: THE SPEAKEASY
Carlos wasn't one to drink out of sadness. Not usually. He had been in and out of the Speakeasy these past few weeks, having important discussions about the rebellion.
This time, though, he was after some self-administered emotional numbing.
"I don't even know what's in this," he muttered to himself, staring at the half-empty glass in front of him, which was a mass of swirling colors.
PROMPT D: ELEVATORS
Being two floors from the top meant that Carlos stood a solid chance of sharing an elevator on the way two and from the D10 rooms. He was used to it, and usually, didn't mind it. Today, however, it was all but a guarantee that whoever he ended up in the elevator with would be awkward as hell, and Carlos was really tired of dealing with it. He shifted from foot to foot in his lab coat, trying not to sigh when the elevator stopped and the doors opened.
What| Since Carlos's survival hinges on his ability to act like he doesn't care, he's going about his business as usual. Even though he and Cecil had a very short-lived but very public romantic relationship, he's acting like he doesn't care. Come make his life harder. Come ask him how he feels.
Where| The D10 rooms, a coffeeshop, and the Speakeasy
When| After Penny and Cruentus's classy, classy announcement.
Warnings/Notes Possible mention of torture, drinking in the last prompt. Also, the first two prompts will involve Carlos denying any real feelings for Cecil. If you want an honest discussion with him, it'll have to be in the Speakeasy.
PROMPT A: D10 common room
Carlos had known what to expect. Penny had announced that Cecil would be avoxed, after all. He had known this was coming.
That had not made keeping a straight face during the broadcast any easier.
He turned off his communicator and knew that if he was going to make this act convincing, he couldn't hide up in his room all day. Carlos hated this act. It was like he had told one lie in the Arena and hadn't been able to stop lying since. It disgusted him. However, he knew that at this point, he had no choice.
There was no need to fake the irritation on Carlos's face as he walked out into the D10 common area and sat down in one of the chairs. He pulled out a notebook and began to scribble in it. Was he writing or drawing? It would be hard to tell...
PROMPT B: TRIBUTE CENTER COMMONS: GENERIC CAPITOL COFFEESHOP
Here Carlos was, sitting in the very place Dave had brought his last words to Cecil, drinking something too hot for the midsummer weather and talking into his tape recorder. If you get close enough, you might hear snatches of what he was saying:
"--correct about my impending death--"
"--new tactic--"
"--willingly cooperate--"
This part of the Tribute center was open to the public: anyone might pass by and see him.
PROMPT C: THE SPEAKEASY
Carlos wasn't one to drink out of sadness. Not usually. He had been in and out of the Speakeasy these past few weeks, having important discussions about the rebellion.
This time, though, he was after some self-administered emotional numbing.
"I don't even know what's in this," he muttered to himself, staring at the half-empty glass in front of him, which was a mass of swirling colors.
PROMPT D: ELEVATORS
Being two floors from the top meant that Carlos stood a solid chance of sharing an elevator on the way two and from the D10 rooms. He was used to it, and usually, didn't mind it. Today, however, it was all but a guarantee that whoever he ended up in the elevator with would be awkward as hell, and Carlos was really tired of dealing with it. He shifted from foot to foot in his lab coat, trying not to sigh when the elevator stopped and the doors opened.
no subject
Unofficially, however, he was staring at the carpet, eyes unfocused, and thinking about the part of him that trembled at the thought that this might be the last contact they ever had. The drugs in his system, the days of conditioning, hadn't rendered him unable to feel-- only afraid to feel too obviously. He was terrified of Carlos and the past he represented, but that didn't mean he'd forgotten.
Then, the elevator doors slid shut, and for the first time, Cecil reacted visibly. He glanced up, slight confusion on his face, turning quickly to concern-- they were descending past the main floors. Three floors down were the laundry rooms, and Tributes weren't supposed to be there. It wasn't forbidden, exactly, but it was discouraged-- and to Cecil, there was no real difference between the two concepts.
He looked at Carlos sidelong, just for a second, and then back at the doors. He shifted from one foot to the other. To him, it felt like he was screaming his discomfort-- Carlos had to notice that he was doing something wrong. That he was making a mistake. Right?
no subject
Dispassionate, scientific, professional. It was an easy mindset for Carlos to fall into, and as he rode the elevator down to the laundry rooms, the mask didn't crack once.
"Unfortunately, this subject is not ideal for further testing, given my former personal connection to him. It's not that I don't think the conditioning worked -- it seems to have taken perfectly. It's just that I don't want the Capitol to think I'm having anything to do with him anymore. I can use another Avox for the tests. They're alike enough that I'm confident that no matter who I use, I'll get the same results."
These were all terrible things to say, but Carlos said them anyway. As he finished, the elevator began to slow.
no subject
It was gone before it could show on his face. It would have turned this encounter from nerve-wracking to dangerous. But it left a buzz in Cecil's veins for a second after it was gone-- only for a second before it was replaced again by dull, neutral fear.
Carlos was perfectly right. Of course they couldn't have anything to do with each other anymore.
The elevator slowed, and Cecil stepped toward the doors. He couldn't help giving Carlos one last furtive glance as they began to slide open (onto low ceilings and stark industrial walls, the great rows of white bins, the moving workers, the distant door to the kitchens)-- was he going to follow? Was he going to take his disobedience any further?
It didn't matter. It wasn't Cecil's problem what Carlos did from here on out. He fixed his eyes on his destination, moved the stack of towels into both arms, and exited with purpose and not another backward glance.
no subject
He hoped Cecil didn't believe him. He hoped that Cecil knew him well enough to know that what Carlos was saying wasn't true, couldn't be true. Carlos was already willing to work against the Capitol; Cecil becoming an Avox wouldn't make Carlos give up on him. Surely Cecil understood that, didn't he? He was just acting for the cameras too, right?
But what if the conditioning ran so deep that Cecil had forgotten? What if Cecil couldn't realize that what Carlos was saying was lies?
There was no way to know.
The elevator doors closed, but not before Carlos had gotten a good look at the laundry rooms. He filed the information away for future use, and he did plan to use it, but there was nothing else he could do right now.
He pushed the button for the ground floor.