Robbie Baldwin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
walkingballpit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2016-11-01 04:43 pm
walkingballpit) wrote in legionworld2016-11-01 04:43 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who| Robbie Baldwin and OPEN
What| Talking? It's hard to say what if you don't even know who.
Where| The Habitat Deck, more specifically Robbie's little section of it. His is comprised of Mount Wundagore, mainly, and aside from the mountain not much else. As it doesn't take up as much of a footprint as normal, most of the view is of other people's areas. The entrance to the base is very high up on an open deck, which has a very nice view of Central Park. Good thing everyone has a flight ring.
When| The day after everyone's safely returned from Murderworld, anytime between 06:00 and 10:00.
Warnings/Notes|
Robbie has unintentionally discovered something wonderful.
He was up too early, having woken up from some dream that he can't remember and given up on tossing and turning in bed. Now, it seems that, if he's up before 06:00 and if he leaves the mess hall immediately after getting a coffee and a bacon and egg sandwich - actually tofu and fungus, but he prefers to not think about it - he can apparently make it to his section of the Habitat Deck in time to watch the artificial sunrise over Central Park.
As an added homey bonus, his sandwich is the exact lukewarm temperature of a street cart sandwich, and the coffee is only mildly scalding. It's actually... nice, and he can see why apartments with a good view of the Park go for so many millions. Of course, if this was really a New York balcony, he wouldn't be sitting on the edge with his feet dangling in the wind (people would call the cops, and there'd be news vans for sure).
But he is King-on-the-Mountain at the moment, and this mountain runs on his rules. Robbie just wants some peace and quiet so the gnawing uncertainty of the past few days will wear off. Everyone's fine, and he should stop being a spaz and come up with a few quality Arcade jokes to harass people with later. Then he should see about drawing the Anthora cup and asking if they can use them at the mess. That's what this needs.
[ For Brainy ]
He's spent most of the day being quiet, tucking away thoughts about old students and his friends. He never saw the evidence of Arcade's tournament, on his Earth, but Robbie knows who was drafted into it. He knows that Ken and some of the others didn't survive it.
That's why he took as much of the day as he dared to let himself dwell on what happen and what might've happened, because the hypothetical endings can be more upsetting than the real one. They're the ones that stick in his min. He's gotten very good at visualizing last moments.
He can't keep doing that indefinitely, though. Eventually, someone would ask him where he's been all day, and that's why Robbie is here - concocting an alibi.
Okay, sure, this is also following through on a promise and proving a point. He would've tried to drag Querl off for a night on the planet eventually, but the timing is entirely due to the events on Harrub. After the whole day thinking about dead friends - how he's gotten some back and might've lost them again, plus more - Robbie wants a few hours where he doesn't have to think about it, any of it. That means not being alone, not being in uniform, and not being with the New Warriors.
Music so loud that he can't hear himself think, that would be good too, but he's amenable to the where and what of it. The fact is, ambushing Brainy is the only option that doesn't look random - and... hell, he really does want to win that little argument. Querl had hung up on him in the middle of his repartee.
And so, Robbie waits in a nook of the hallway that connects the lab to the nearest restroom. He's not about to jump the Coluan in his chair, not after the quantum glue threat.
What| Talking? It's hard to say what if you don't even know who.
Where| The Habitat Deck, more specifically Robbie's little section of it. His is comprised of Mount Wundagore, mainly, and aside from the mountain not much else. As it doesn't take up as much of a footprint as normal, most of the view is of other people's areas. The entrance to the base is very high up on an open deck, which has a very nice view of Central Park. Good thing everyone has a flight ring.
When| The day after everyone's safely returned from Murderworld, anytime between 06:00 and 10:00.
Warnings/Notes|
Robbie has unintentionally discovered something wonderful.
He was up too early, having woken up from some dream that he can't remember and given up on tossing and turning in bed. Now, it seems that, if he's up before 06:00 and if he leaves the mess hall immediately after getting a coffee and a bacon and egg sandwich - actually tofu and fungus, but he prefers to not think about it - he can apparently make it to his section of the Habitat Deck in time to watch the artificial sunrise over Central Park.
As an added homey bonus, his sandwich is the exact lukewarm temperature of a street cart sandwich, and the coffee is only mildly scalding. It's actually... nice, and he can see why apartments with a good view of the Park go for so many millions. Of course, if this was really a New York balcony, he wouldn't be sitting on the edge with his feet dangling in the wind (people would call the cops, and there'd be news vans for sure).
But he is King-on-the-Mountain at the moment, and this mountain runs on his rules. Robbie just wants some peace and quiet so the gnawing uncertainty of the past few days will wear off. Everyone's fine, and he should stop being a spaz and come up with a few quality Arcade jokes to harass people with later. Then he should see about drawing the Anthora cup and asking if they can use them at the mess. That's what this needs.
[ For Brainy ]
He's spent most of the day being quiet, tucking away thoughts about old students and his friends. He never saw the evidence of Arcade's tournament, on his Earth, but Robbie knows who was drafted into it. He knows that Ken and some of the others didn't survive it.
That's why he took as much of the day as he dared to let himself dwell on what happen and what might've happened, because the hypothetical endings can be more upsetting than the real one. They're the ones that stick in his min. He's gotten very good at visualizing last moments.
He can't keep doing that indefinitely, though. Eventually, someone would ask him where he's been all day, and that's why Robbie is here - concocting an alibi.
Okay, sure, this is also following through on a promise and proving a point. He would've tried to drag Querl off for a night on the planet eventually, but the timing is entirely due to the events on Harrub. After the whole day thinking about dead friends - how he's gotten some back and might've lost them again, plus more - Robbie wants a few hours where he doesn't have to think about it, any of it. That means not being alone, not being in uniform, and not being with the New Warriors.
Music so loud that he can't hear himself think, that would be good too, but he's amenable to the where and what of it. The fact is, ambushing Brainy is the only option that doesn't look random - and... hell, he really does want to win that little argument. Querl had hung up on him in the middle of his repartee.
And so, Robbie waits in a nook of the hallway that connects the lab to the nearest restroom. He's not about to jump the Coluan in his chair, not after the quantum glue threat.
no subject
He wanted to let it stand there to prove that he was content to wait out that stare with a smile on his face, but he knew it wouldn't go over well. If he was to convince Querl to hang out with him, Robbie thought he'd have to demonstrate that he could amuse himself and carry the conversation as needed. Brainy didn't seem the type for small talk. "I don't know if you've picked up on this, but humans are really social creatures. A bunch of scientists did a study that compared Earth animals' brains to their relative group sizes? Turns out humans need about 150 people in their sphere to be content."
Ha, Robbie currently had perhaps a tenth of that - and that was at home. "You have to pull your weight and interact with me, or I'll shrivel up and die. Besides, I can't hang out with just the New Warriors. I'm supposed to integrate, right? This is me integrating."
no subject
"You're not going to shrivel up and die." So overdramatic, but he was still smiling. "If you did shrivel up, I'm sure I could manage to find some means of reinvigorating you."
He sighed, like this was all just sooo aggravating, then looked at his tablet, mentally calculating how the lost time would affect his experiments. Not that adversely.
"Fine, I'll go with you. If--" He held up a finger. "-- you're willing to clean out the test tubes from my hyperdense texilicate substrate experiment. You're my lab assistant anyway, and it's always..."
He pulled a face.
It really wasn't that bad but an image had to be maintained here. Bargaining hid the sincerity -- and the sincerity needed to be hidden. He always felt strange and exposed whenever he was actually eager for something.
no subject
But Robbie remembered their first conversation, when Brainy was fixing his hardware. This was as good as it was going to get, unless they started shaving the guy's hair to make room for more inhibitors. That'd be a shame, forcing the bald green alien stereotype on him like that.
Besides... in a way, Querl's showing him how to shore up his lines for the next time he uses them.
"Oh, you're gonna be the worst wingman." Despite the apparent disappointment in his voice, Robbie slung an arm around Brainy's shoulders companionably and began to steer him down the hall. It's a good thing he has no interest in a wingman, because this would be as big a disaster as trying to get attention next to Rich and Vance. "Where's your quarters? You're not wearing that."
no subject
"Wingman?" The idiom didn't quite translate. "I'm not Thanagarian. I'm not sure I understand that reference."
Wait, what, where were they going?
"And my quarters are up the hall." Of course he lived near the lab. "But why do I need to change? I only have three other outfits besides my superhero uniforms, anyway."
Just three.
"And one of them is formalwear for the moronic diplomatic functions we sometimes have to attend. Far too formal for a normal social outing."
He pretty much lived in uniform.
no subject
Oh, hold on a minute here. He came so to missing the big picture while he argued out the the details and focused on the tantalizing teasing topic of only having three outfits. There was something more important in play. He stopped as delight spread across his face. "I know something that you -"
Robbie tapped the pad of his index finger on the tip of Querl's nose and beamed, so many pretty white teeth. "Don't. And you should. Flight rings, space ships, I'm assuming there's air travel and air forces. You've got no excuse."
He's positively tickled by getting one over on Brainy, despite it being purely accidental. "But you don't have time to figure it out. You need to change because we're not doing superhero stuff. We're doing something fun, like going to a concert or to the mall to buy you clean clothes."
no subject
"I suppose I'll allow it," he said with a smirk, as if being outsmarted was something that could only be achieved if he gave permission for it to happen. His eyes briefly flicked upward again. "Oh, the cleverness of you~"
They reached the door to his quarters and he placed his hand on a biometric scanner to open the door. Then he walked through and didn't close it again, making it clear that Robbie was allowed to join him in his room while he dug through his closet. He tossed the tablet on his bed and proceeded to rifle past multiple identical iterations of his uniform. That he only had three outfits absolutely wasn't an exaggeration.
The room was very bare and sterile. No pictures or paintings on the walls (what was the point when you had perfect photographic recall?) No furnishings, no trinkets, not even any gadgets or electronics (he usually left his work in the lab).
The only sign that it was lived in was the tangle of blankets on the bed. As far as he was concerned, making his bed was an inefficient waste of energy when it was only going to be mussed up again later.
He shook his head as he examined his two clothing choices.
"I've apparently already surrendered control of my night, so I may as well cede control of my wardrobe, especially since I haven't the faintest idea where we're going."
He had no idea what would be appropriate.
He held up a dark grey shirt that was all stark lines and a light grey one that...was exactly the same.
"Austere and subdued or severe and dour?" he asked, with full self-awareness that he was the most boring dresser in the history of sentient life.
no subject
The stark room was sad, but not shocking. Robbie had connected Brainy working with the Legion of Superheroes to himself being a Thunderbolt before. He'd been wrong about it - and the personality restraints - being forced on Querl, but the groundwork was laid for accepting this similarity. Robbie had lived in empty rooms as well, with nothing to distract him and yank him free of his thoughts.
He got it. Brainy has a lot on his mind, with dreaming up ways to get the missing Legionnaires back and redeem himself. Robbie won't offer appreciation for the self-imposed harsh simplicity. That's for people like himself, people that don't deserve nice things, and even he's given it up in favor of a look that puts his friends at ease.
He spent too long staring at nothing and everything before he glanced at the options. Gray and gray. Robbie wished he could offer his own soft blue shirt in jest, but that would bring its own awkwardness. "Neither. I say let's have a good time, and you say austere and dour. First stop, we're getting you real clothes. Color. Pattern. Neon."
Maybe they could get something for the room, too.