[open] science is real

[hypoxic]

Who: Any combination of Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons, Caitlin Snow, and whomever happens to wander in - open starters within
Where: Caitlin's Lab - 4-14
When: December-January catchall
Rating: Probably PG13 - anything over that will be marked in a subject line
Summary: Introvert nerds are introverted and committed to not leaving their Science. But Caitlin insists on an open-door policy, so there's really nothing stopping anyone from poking around.
The Story:

Comments

Leo Fitz | OTA

[hypoxic]

[For most of early December, Fitz will be primarily settled in his corner of the lab as an actual living black raincloud. After the incident with the shadow creatures, he's been left on a set of crutches that hobble his movements more than he's prepared to handle. That stack of papers carelessly tossed in a pile three weeks ago is now a needle in a haystack, as is anything located even slightly out of arm's length.

He'll be frequently grumbling about whatever it is he's trying to do. Everything is up too high. Why haven't they stopped to design a more efficient stepladder before now?? Whose idea was it to use blue totes for the field supplies when the green ones are perfectly serviceable??

If this is left unchecked or otherwise ignored, then by mid-December the grumblings will have leveled up and become full tantrums. Fitz, though he inhabits an adult body, is prone to toddler-levels of tantrums. He'll be a hair trigger away from pushing over working projects and toppling uncooperative file cabinets.

But since he's also the least mobile of their group at the moment, he's the most likely to be scowling in the corner when strangers visit. Please enjoy this warm welcome wrapped up in a heavy blanket of "GET OUT."]

sometime early december »

[mucked]

[ there's something to be said for knocking. even when that knocking takes place on the threshold of a quote-unquote public space. really, it's just about the only decent thing to do when coming across anyone's work area -- no matter how accessible to every-bloody-one else it's been made. it's common courtesy!

that said, peggy carter doesn't knock. she enters the lab with a kind of easy confidence, belied only by the way her attention flits around the room -- as though she's looking for one particular anchor-spot.

and there he is! leo fitz. she clears her throat and catches him in the process of tidying up a stack of folders. although she can't be certain, it appears as though said stack has only recently been shoved aside. scattered. ]

-- I thought I'd stop by and share with you the fruits of your labours. [ she waggles a thermos once, twice, three times before committing it to the desk in favour of crouching. peggy reaches for a few errant pages, setting to help without offering first. ]

[hypoxic]

[That stack of papers deserved a good shoving. He's sure he left the blueprints for Caitlin's power nullifiers there, but it's nowhere to be found. Things need to stop getting lost. He's grumbling sourly when Peggy approaches; and frankly, he's distracted enough that she gets particularly close before he notices her, blinking in surprise.]

Oh, I -- hadn't expected anyone to be -- I hope you weren't waiting long.

[mucked]

-- Wasn't waiting at all, truth be told.

[ peggy found no reason to wait and linger and expire on the sidelines, standing on ceremony just in case the other person might eventually see fit to beckon her over to their side of a room. but fitz's sentiment does paint a rather sharp picture of his distraction before she'd arrived.

she looks at the crutches as she evens off a handful of papers. peggy places the stack neatly on the desk -- beside the thermos. ]

What happened?

[hypoxic]

Nothing-- It's -- just clumsy.

[He's talking about the mess of papers, that aggressive stack that dared to not contain the thing he most crucially needs. It doesn't even occur to him that she might have noticed the pair of walking aids leaning on the desk beside his chair.]

[mucked]

Better the papers than you, I suppose.

[ peggy smiles a tight smile once she realizes the misunderstanding -- willful or otherwise. and instead of pressing the point (yet), she grabs the thermos and begins twisting off its lid.

and while she does, peggy gives him a glance-over. looking for signs of what might merit the crutches: a favoured foot, a ginger leg, a bum hip? ]

Like I said -- the fruit of your labours.

[ she brought tea she'd boiled and steeped in her new kettle. ]

[trigeminalheadache]

[ Since losing her gauntlets, Caitlin's been careful about constantly taking her own emotional temperature. Her powers seem to come to the surface quicker when she's stressed or angry or scared. And she's been feeling more and more of the first two than the latter as of late. All three feed on each other, though, and get worse the more she puts off any self-care.

She tends to leave a shared or common space when she feels overwhelmed. But today, she can't. She's done these calculations by hand and now she needs to run them on her software to ensure accuracy. So she's stuck in the lab Which means being stuck listening to Fitz's grousing.

After one such moment, she sighs loudly and lets her hand fall to the desktop with a smack. ] What now, Fitz?

[hypoxic]

The organization in this lab is a bloody joke, that's what.

[It's an ugly shade of him, a bitterness he tries not to project during his better days. But at this point, misery loves company. If he can't be ablebodied, then he might as well tear down everyone else's efforts.]

Nothing's sensibly arranged, and I keep finding spots where Cisco thought he ought to leave batches of candy.

[That man must have been part squirrel.]

[trigeminalheadache]

[ She very pointedly eyes his immediate area, then her immediate area, and back to his. Whose organization is a joke, Fitz? Because the STAR Labs portion is good. Until he decides to hobble over and make like Godzilla on downtown Tokyo. ]

He was— [ No. Full stop. Back up. ] He is just like us; he spends way too much time in the lab and would probably forget to eat entirely if not for the stuff he squirrels away.

[hypoxic]

Well now it's in the way.

[And every molehill is now an insurmountable mountain. He glowers at the contents of the cabinet he's opened, and unhooks a support from the shelving, dropping the shelf easily and sending its contents cascading to the floor in a satisfying crash.

There. It's clean now.]

[trigeminalheadache]

[ While Fitz may find it satisfying, the crash only jars Caitlin's already frayed nerves. Her posture goes rigged and her eyes are shut tight. He may notice the temperature has suddenly dropped several degrees. ]

Could you not do that?

Damian Wayne | OTA

[sonofab]

[It's been a trying few months and Damian found himself here more than he expected. Fitz's sour looks didn't bother him much, honestly having someone more paranoid than himself around was strangely reassuring. The man was in a mood as usual, but Damian, for the most part, lets him be. Okay, he might occassionally move things when Fitz isn't looking just to send the man into more of a tizzy.

Dr. Snow was always a warm presence, despite her name. Her open door policy is a testament to this. He looks over when Kory yips from the open doorway of the lab. Sorry girl, no pets in the lab. She was surprisingly easy to train for such a young pup and he'd be sure to get her a treat after this.

He is at one of the workbenches constructing some kind of casing to hold something he expects to be very hot.]

[hypoxic]

[This is obscene. Fitz can't fathom why Caitlin allows this child to act as a continual presence within their space. He's violent and unruly. He's a trained assassin.

But he's behaving himself today, for whatever that's worth. Even if he's sitting in Cisco's space.]

Do you intend to install a proper safety measure in that thing or are you planning to go round starting fires?

[Killer or no killer, safety first.]

[sonofab]

[Well hello to you too Fitz. Damian looks at Fitz as he hobbles over to him because even injury wouldn't stop the man from giving Damian an earful it seems.] You know I prefer to set my fires via explosives, Lab Monkey.

[Damian drawls, knowing just how much the name bothers Fitz, so of course it was going to stick.] This isn't for offense though, it's for healing.

[hypoxic]

[He'll set himself into a rolling chair to ease the strain of movement and settle across from Damian. He even lets the name slide, for now.]

Then you'll want to create something that won't melt in the sun. [His eyes narrow.]

You'll need to coat it with substances which have exceptionally good heat resistance and stability in order to ensure its durability and protection up to the temperature at which the frit combination used starts to fuse. I'd recommend protection of the substrate metal from the elements at all temperatures from normal atmospheric through 1500 farenheit.

[The kid wants to work on something complicated, he'll lead with the jargon. If he has to dumb it down at all, then he assumes his point will make itself.]

[sonofab]

Not melting in the sun is one of the first things I made sure of. [Come now Fitz.]

Its purpose is to encase something that could be close heat wise to the sun. The brighter and warmer the radiation balance, the better. Around 288,000 degrees or as close to that as I can get.

[Damian says, not seeming at all derailed by Fitz's word. While some might find the jargon boring, Damian is actually mildly fascinated. The teen leans a bit on the desk, looking thoughtful.] But if you insist on safety, not so bright it could melt someone's face if dropped.

[Though the person its intended for wouldn't have this problem, still, adults always insisted on safety first.]

Jemma Simmons || OTA

[bravejemma]

[Did you come looking for a resident biochem nerd? Jemma is here for you! Well, maybe not you specifically. She's here to try and build her projects back up from when Jane's lab shut down -- terrible, that. But she also needs new projects! She's not happy unless she's doing forty things at once.

She's a bit friendlier than her raincloud of a boyfriend. No, don't mind him, we'll give him a blanket and a juice box and he'll take a nap and it'll be fine.

Hit her up for randomness or planned things!]

[mucked]

[ -- it's actually jemma's raincloud of a boyfriend that peggy is initially interested in finding. but with a spark of surprise, she finds the one agent isn't present and the other agent is. it's not a terrible turn of events. ]

Agent Simmons.

[ she says the name by way of greeting, quirking her mouth into a brief brief smile before raising a hand and hailing the other woman. in one hand she's got a little velvet pouch, although at the moment it's hard to tell what might be concealed inside. ]

Holding down the fort by yourself today, are you?

[bravejemma]

[Jemma glances up from the microscope at being greeted. Even though she's getting used to it, it's still a little surreal to see Peggy Carter in the flesh. She greets her in return:]

Agent Carter, hello.

[She straightens, and nudges her microscope to the side.]

For the moment, it seems. I haven't seen Caitlin today and Fitz... is getting cabin fever.

[mucked]

[ caitlin is someone peggy's never met. although she supposes that if the woman shares lab space with these other two, she might do well to one day bridge that connection at least a superficial capacity. for now, however, her attention remains fixed on jemma.

perhaps she'd come to find the other half of the duo, but it's not as though she's at all disappointed in finding this one. peggy's fingers tighten around the crushed velvet bag, but she doesn't address it just yet. ]

And how then does he cope with his cabin fever?

[bravejemma]

By being his usual pleasant self.

[Said with some irony -- it was a familiar pattern of behavior, Fitz didn't like to be perceived as weak or helpless, or feeling stuck and unable to move with ease, and so he was grouchy and tetchy. At least he wasn't relearning how to speak as well. They'd been there and done that.

She notes the velvet bag, but doesn't bring it up either. Peggy will, when she's ready.]

I suggested he take a short walk. At least find a room with a window while the sun is out.

[hypoxic]

[Fitz is very much not being a raincloud. He's so not being a raincloud that he's settled at his desk, glowering at hers. It's not a raincloud maneuver to be frustrated with an inability to get comfortable. It's just that when stitches get itchy, he gets fidgety. But when he fidgets, it puts undue stress on his injury. And then that creates a period of absolute stillness that invariably dissolves back into movement.

He slams a fist on his desktop without stopping to warn her first. The move knocks a crutch from its place leaning at his desk; he doesn't reach down for it.]

I've had enough.

[Of what? He thinks that ought to be obvious, quite frankly.]

[bravejemma]

[It hits hard enough that she jumps at the sound, caught as much off guard as the poor crutch seems to be. Right. Well, if you see a thunderhead in the sky, you have to expect it to storm. She pushes herself back from her own desk, ready to be the sympathetic ear, though cautious. She's familiar with Fitz's moods and tantrums, but it doesn't make them any more pleasant.]

Enough of what, Fitz?

[Use your words. Preferably nice-ish ones.]

[hypoxic]

"Enough of what," she says. As if you have to ask.

[Is she making fun of him right now? Is that what this is??]

If you're not going to help, I don't see why you keep trying to get involved at all.

[bravejemma]

[Was this the beginning of an event? Repayment for the row she'd recently picked? Not that she wouldn't bloody well deserve it, but it would be nice to have some idea of what she was working with -- or against.]

I'm a genius but I haven't figured out telepathy yet. So talk to me.