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)
thecapitol2014-11-13 03:12 pm
youbarium) wrote in thecapitol2014-11-13 03:12 pm
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Who| Carlos and anyone
What| He's been a sad scientist lately, and a reclusive scientist, and an obsessive scientist. He is a scientist who is bad at remembering that he has friends, and he can do things with friends, and that the world does not revolve around memorizing a blueprint.
Where| The coffee place on the ground floor of the Tribute Center.
When| Late this week/possibly this weekend, any time you feel like finding him
Warnings/Notes| None so far.
I almost have it. I almost have it. Just a few more days, and I'll be able to recreate the blueprint completely accurately.
Carlos can't make an actual recording of his progress, since the Capitol would both confiscate his recording device and record him making the recording itself, but that doesn't mean he can't pretend to take voice notes in his head.
Steve, Tony, and Bruce have been a huge help. Steve especially. Between the three of us, I'm sure we can reverse-engineer this machine.
He sits at a small table, hair artistically mussed and one shoe half-untied, and sips a cup of coffee. The steam makes his glasses fog up, but he only seems to notice so much. That is, he is repeating a cycle of actions: he takes a sip, his glasses fog up. He wipes the lenses with the sleeve of his lab coat, and sips again. He does not seem to get agitated, nor does he seem to realize that he could avoid this by removing his glasses. He just repeats the motions again and again, too lost in thought to take any further action.
I'll be ready when I go to District 13. If I go to District 13.
What| He's been a sad scientist lately, and a reclusive scientist, and an obsessive scientist. He is a scientist who is bad at remembering that he has friends, and he can do things with friends, and that the world does not revolve around memorizing a blueprint.
Where| The coffee place on the ground floor of the Tribute Center.
When| Late this week/possibly this weekend, any time you feel like finding him
Warnings/Notes| None so far.
I almost have it. I almost have it. Just a few more days, and I'll be able to recreate the blueprint completely accurately.
Carlos can't make an actual recording of his progress, since the Capitol would both confiscate his recording device and record him making the recording itself, but that doesn't mean he can't pretend to take voice notes in his head.
Steve, Tony, and Bruce have been a huge help. Steve especially. Between the three of us, I'm sure we can reverse-engineer this machine.
He sits at a small table, hair artistically mussed and one shoe half-untied, and sips a cup of coffee. The steam makes his glasses fog up, but he only seems to notice so much. That is, he is repeating a cycle of actions: he takes a sip, his glasses fog up. He wipes the lenses with the sleeve of his lab coat, and sips again. He does not seem to get agitated, nor does he seem to realize that he could avoid this by removing his glasses. He just repeats the motions again and again, too lost in thought to take any further action.
I'll be ready when I go to District 13. If I go to District 13.
no subject
He's being fucked with.
It takes Carlos a moment to process that -- that, for the sake of messing with him, Dave and Terezi have made a city out of cans and chalk. It takes him another second to try to remember how to react. It's been so long since Carlos has been playfully messed with that he's not sure he remembers what to say.
"...how long have you been doing that?"
He knows the answer he gets is probably going to be inaccurate, but he asks anyway.
no subject
"What? Fucking with you?" Terezi grins, picking up on Dave's cue. At the very least, Carlos's personal hypothesis isn't wrong. "I don't know. How long have you know us? That is probably your best guess."
Meaning that there is never a time when they are not fucking with him--or anyone else for that matter. Fucking around is pretty much their sole purpose in life as accidental teenage deities and such.
no subject
"Since we started, though? Seven minutes and forty seven seconds." He punctuates that by drawing a nice apple on his tree and popping down the chalk and focusing a little more attention on Carlos. "What has science done this time to take your brain captive?"
no subject
He's stalling for time. He can't tell them he's thinking about District 13, so he's going to pretend he was thinking about very complicated science instead.
no subject
It's a joke that never really gets old for her. She can also smell a stalling tactic as obvious as that one, so if Carlos wants to avoid what he was thinking about, then it's probably for the best. She refocuses her attention on him:
"But that's okay. I hear the Can community is looking to hire a new scientist of dubiously vague study! We've already forged an application and submitted it in your name. You should hear back soon."
no subject
"Ah, yes. The professor of I can't tell you right now but I definitely know what I'm talking about. Everybody gets an A, nobody knows why. That's science, bitch." He nods agreeably, pointing his finger at some drawn building with can accoutrements around the outside. "Why don't you take a seat inside?" He suggests, tapping his chalk on the ground outside the sketches.
no subject
On the other hand, Carlos really likes Dave and Terezi, and acting like he's too cool to play along here seems...mean-spirited. Spoilsport-y. And besides, it keeps the two of them from inquiring further about what he's been working on.
"I don't know. What jobs do you two have in this can city? Are you even going to school?"