blah blah void blah blah spiders blah blah science [open]

[youbarium]

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.

Comments

[the_marshal]

"Ya are allowed to order for yerself," Wyatt's mouth twitched bemused against the rim of his glass. "They're good folks here. They won't hold it against ya."

And as pretty as the drink in Carlos' hand looked, when Wyatt came to drink, he meant to do it right.

[youbarium]

"Yeah, I know," Carlos admitted, with a little bit of sheepish amusement. "But they're always so excited about it, I -- I feel bad turning them down." It felt rude and a little disappointing. "I wonder if I could just drop a shot of something stronger into it," he mused, eyeing the glass. "I can't say for sure since I don't know what's in it, but I think vodka would be all right."

It was such a normal conversation. So normal, in fact, that Carlos felt a little weird having it after all the serious conversations he had had in here. It was nice, though, not having to pick his words carefully. This was an easy conversation to have.

[the_marshal]

Serious talks, the weight just outside the door - waiting back at the Tower - was exactly what brought Wyatt inside and into the bottle.

Draining a long swallow from his glass, he shifted in his seat and raised his free hand to catch the bartender's attention again.

"Top off for me," he said, lowering his drink to the bar again. Then he added, "an' a shot'a vodka for my friend here," with a nod toward Carlos.

[youbarium]

"Thanks," Carlos said, accepting the shot and tipping it into the glass. Stirring it in, Carlos glanced sideways at Wyatt.

"So," he asked, in a casual tone that Carlos hoped communicated that there was absolutely no pressure to respond to what he was about to say, "what are you in for?"

[the_marshal]

Wyatt rolled his shoulder noncommittally.

"Same thing that drives any man to drink," he sighed. "Yer either celebratin' somethin', er tryin' to forget somethin'."

Sure the details might be details, but in Wyatt's experience that's what it always boiled down to.

[youbarium]

Wasn't that the truth?

"Neither of us has much to celebrate," Carlos admitted quietly. "Not here." He stared down his newly-fortified drink, and took a long, bracing sip. "You know," he said, "alcohol is not a stimulant. It's a depressant. So it doesn't make you happy; it only intensifies whatever feeling you're experiencing when you drink it. But we drink when we're sad anyway."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt's head tipped, chewing over that for a beat.

"Not if ya drink enough of it."

A temporary solution, for sure, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

[youbarium]

"But the best we can hope for is numbness," Carlos replied, gazing sadly at his drink. "Logically, we should do something that makes us happy, but here we are, filling our systems with depressants. I wonder," he mused, picking up his drink and watching the flashing colors fade, "I mean, I hypothesize -- that maybe we drink because we want to feel sad. Because feeling happy right now wouldn't feel right."

[the_marshal]

"Maybe we want'a be happy," Wyatt allowed, voice deepening with the burn of his drink. "But there ain't nothin' doin'."

He gestured lightly with his glass, ice shifting and clinking.

"Ain't a whole lot a options otherwise."

[youbarium]

"Well, yes," Carlos agreed, glancing over. "Of course we want to be happy. But there are very specific circumstances in place right now that prevent us from being happy. And given the unchangeable nature of those circumstances, finding happiness anywhere else is..."

He trailed off, looking for the words.

"Difficult," he settled on. "Disrespectful," he added a moment later, changing his mind. "Scientifically speaking, it's just not possible."

That would have to do.

He took another pull at his drink, embracing the illogically masochistic facts of inebriation.

[the_marshal]

They ran into each other often enough the ten suites that Wyatt wasn't fazed by the long-winded speech. He merely nodded instead, accepting the point for what it was, and held out his glass.

"To misery."

[youbarium]

Clink.

Another swallow.

"If it helps," Carlos said, "everything is impermanent. Nothing is forever. So our circumstances have to change sooner or later, right?"

[the_marshal]

Wyatt snorted dryly, mouth twisting into a wry, dark smile.

"True enough," he agreed, rumbling into his glass. "It can always get worse."

His heart thumped, an ache under his ribs as he imagined how.

[youbarium]

"But it might get better," said Carlos, watching the colors in his glass fade. "I mean, it's not very likely, but it's not impossible, right?"

[the_marshal]

His glass tipped, just a small silver of amber left, puddling around the ice chips.

"No," he murmured after a beat. "Good does happen, every now an' again."

He'd been lucky, hadn't he, to be so happy for as long as he had. Not everyone got even that much.

"When it does, make sure ya appreciate it."

[youbarium]

Carlos's eyes dropped, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.

"I wish I had," he said. "I was wrong about something very important. That is one, but not all, of the reasons I am in this bar."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt's expression shifted, softened with understanding.

"I won't claim to know exactly what yer feelin', but if it helps, I was wrong too."

Over and over. Worse and worse.

[youbarium]

He glanced over at Wyatt. "...do you want to talk about it?" he asked, though he didn't really expect Wyatt to open up. Wyatt had always struck Carlos as a private person, and whatever was going on with him would probably stay locked up under his cowboy hat.

[the_marshal]

"Ain't nothin' to be done for it," Wyatt sighed. "So there ain't any reason to be spreadin' it around other than to hear myself talk."

He held up his glass, seeking the bartender's eye.

"'Sides," he glanced back over at Carlos, "talkin' 'bout it makes me even sadder than the drinkin'."

[youbarium]

"Just checking," Carlos replied, looking back at the smooth wooden surface of the bar in front of him. "I don't really want to talk about mine, either. I mean, it's all public anyway. If you've been paying attention at all you can probably guess most of it." A heavy sigh.

[the_marshal]

"I try not too," he admitted. "The Capitol's already all up in everything, nobody needs me hangin' on every word too."

Not until the Capitol made it his problem at any rate.

[youbarium]

"It's hard to avoid." Carlos took another pull at his drink. "I can't help knowing exactly what the Capitol thinks of what I've been doing. On the one hand, it's useful to have feedback. On the other, it's..."

He shook his head.

"It's very important that a scientist have a good reputation," he said, in a tone that made it perfectly clear that right now his reputation was anything but.

[the_marshal]

"Bein' in good standin' don't mean much here," Wyatt told him. "Not comin' from their judgement."

He finished off his glass, head tipping back to catch the last of it, and the straightened back in his chair. The glass clicking back onto the bar.

"Better for a man to hold himself to himself."

[youbarium]

"But I can't," said Carlos miserably. "I am lying a lot more than I'm comfortable with. Honesty is crucial to being a scientist, but if I don't lie, then I'm putting people I care about in danger." This dilemma had been eating him ever since he came back from the last Arena. "Being in the Capitol has made ethical conduct a scientific impossibility!"

[the_marshal]

"Ya rather live out the other option?" Wyatt asked, looking over blandly as the bartender refilled his glass. "I'd rather be called a liar than know I caused the death er worse of somebody I loved."

He picked up his fresh drink, eyes sliding forward again, fixing into the middle distance behind the bar.

"I can live with a few white lies."