01;

[whatitis]

Who: Carlos; OTA!!
Broadcast: Everyone
Action: Anyone on the Marsiva, if you wanna find him!
When: Any time from 1/26 to the Saturday Shuffle, really.

[Carlos is many things, but primarily confused, and partially scared. Luckily, though, he's also pretty adaptive, and he manages to find the broadcast-y technology pretty early on in his...well, he wouldn't call it panic, but most people would.]

[He looks tired, first and foremost, but also curious. Exceedingly curious.]

...Hey-o. This is sure...a situation--hold on, pretend that didn't happen.

[There's a shuffling of the camera before he shows up again, now bearing a blinding smile that's closer to a grimace.]

Hi, this is Carlos? If there's anyone, y'know, out there...hi! Oh, I'm no good at this kind of business. Just, um, if someone could drop me a line on what's happening, that would be capital-A appreciated.

Comments

action;

[familyremains]

[ For days, Dean's been walking this heaping flying piece of scrap trying to find anyone a pilot, a stewardess... anyone who works on the damn thing, but so far, all he's found have been robots and people just as clueless as he is. He's just starting to give up finding anyone who works on this place when he sees a man in a white coat.

Jackpot. He goes right up to the guy, cuts in front of him to make sure he doesn't try to make any kind of hasty mistake. ]

Hey, Dr. Nick. You work here?

[ The guy may not be a pilot, but he'll take it. ]

[whatitis]

[His first thought is something along the lines of "who the hell is Dr. Nick."]

[His second is "this weekend-casual labcoat is pretty flattering on me, I think."]

[His third--and most important--is spoken aloud, with more than a note of confusion:]

I...don't work here? I think? I might, I don't know.

[Nailed it, Carlos.]

[familyremains]

[ Oh yeah, you nailed it, Carlos. It's a good thing you're good-looking, let's just leave it at that. ]

You don't know? [ Dean balks, openly staring at the guy. ] How do you not know if you work here or not? It's an easy question.

[whatitis]

I don't know because memory isn't always reliable.

[His voice enters a more teacherly tone, sounding unpleasantly condescending.]

There are better ways to approach that question. Do I remember working here? No, I don't. Do you?

[familyremains]

I...

[ Wait. Is this some kind of philosophical mind game he's playing? Damn it, and Dean walked right into it. ]

No. Of course I don't remember working here because I don't work here.

[whatitis]

[No, this is just kind of how he is.]

If you're so insistent about it, jeez. Why'd you ask, anyways?

[familyremains]

[ Oh yeah, him and Dean'll get along just great. ]

You got the right kind of uniform for a spaceship. [ After a second of consideration, Dean pushes his lips up and amends. ] The coat, I mean. I guess if you were really alien mothership material, there'd be less pocket protector, more spandex.

[whatitis]

I'm afraid I left my lycra jumpsuit at home, sorry. And my pocket protector. I really don't wear either of those things to league night, I'm not an animal.

[familyremains]

[ Dean blinks slow and doesn't answer, because truth is he can't decide whether he wants to address the fact that league night with a dress code broaches the kind of nerd levels that even pocket protectors can't touch.... or the fact that animals don't wear spandex jumpsuits.

Honestly? He doesn't want to talk about either of those subjects. So a slow blink is all Carlos gets before Dean lets it drop. ]

Okay, so you don't work here. Which means, I guess, you got beamed in just like the rest of us.

So help me out a little, pal. The coat. Are you a doctor?