[open]

[polyhistor]

Characters: Spencer Reid and open.
Date: From April 5th-14th.
Location: Various locations in Keeliai and Atam.
Situation: Reid does SCIENCE!! And other things. There will be some specific threadstarters and some general ones.
Warnings/Ratings: Excessive tldr?
Other: prose or actionspam are both fine by me. Also if you could fill out my permissions post that would be awesome. Reid is a behavioural analyst with the FBI and he tends to use body language and linguistic cues to 'profile' other characters. Obviously this is an ability that tends towards 'hugely infomoddy' so I like to keep things above the board whenever possible.

Comments

cool kids at coffee houses

[depicted]

[Dorian steps into the coffee house, hoping only to spend a few twilight hours away from everything that haunts him. He acquires himself a cup of coffee, regrets the alcohol rationing, picks a seat nearer to Reid out of the new instinctive desire to place himself closer to foreigners and further from kedan, regrets the alcohol rationing, glances out over the coffee house, regrets the alcohol rationing, notices the stacks of paper, and really regrets that his coffee isn't spiked.

He opens conversation with the foreigner. He isn't sure why, except perhaps that it isn't his custom to be alone.] You'll have to tell me who your paper supplier is. Mine must be overcharging me.

[polyhistor]

[Reid blinks. Looks up.]

Oh-- I, um. I make my own. Recycling.

[Oh my God it's Dorian Gray. They've never spoken, but Reid has seen him about the Network, and given the presence of Lord Henry it's not exactly surprising.

But he's still surprised.]

[depicted]

[Dorian's lips lift in a confused smile. The man is shy, he guesses? Though how anyone can monologue like Reid did—and Dorian remembers that monologue, would do so even if he didn't have a good memory for faces—and yet be shy is a little beyond Dorian.

Dorian is used to a very social sort of people.]

On your own? How?

[polyhistor]

[Run, Dorian, you've opened the patented Floodgates of Shit Reid Knows. Run. That, more than anything, serves to draw him out of his shell and as he speaks he begins gesticulating to emphasize his points.]

It's actually easier than you might expect. If you boil plant fibres, separate them in water, grind the remains into a paste, the result can be shaped into a mould and effectively turned into paper. It's a little fragile comparative to the various weights of paper you can find in the 21^st century, but it holds ink well and it's less expensive than buying it in stores.

[depicted]

[Oh, Dorian thinks, this person has two settings: 'socially awkward' and 'science.']

[He opts to continue the technical conversation, if not for too long.] I don't suppose we have any available means to mechanize that.

[polyhistor]

I could probably put something together if I had the resources for it. I hadn't really thought about it.

[But you can bet he's doing so now.]

[depicted]

You don't mean you've been doing it all by hand before now.

[Dorian stops himself from questioning the amount of dedication that had to have gone into that. Instead, he smiles.]

We haven't been properly introduced, have we? Dorian Gray. [He offers a hand to shake.]

[polyhistor]

I actually find it cathartic. I prefer doing things by hand whenever possible.

[It's one of the reasons he hates computers. His brain works faster than they can compute, dangit!!

... And he's looking at that hand and then he sort of lifts his hand in a wave of greeting instead. Not a fan of the handshake, this boy. Even when it's Dorian Gray.]

I know, I've seen you on the network. I'm Doctor Reid.

[depicted]

[Dorian watches the hand rise and . . . okay? That's . . . okay. The unusual response to the handshake throws him almost equally to the unusual verbal reply. It is as if, playing chess, someone just made two uncommon moves in the usual predictability of the opening gambits.]

He of the liminal rites dialogue, I remember. It was an informative speech.

[polyhistor]

[Help what does he say to that.

Help, help.]

Thank you?

[He doesn't exactly mean to employ that upward lilting tone on the 'you' that paints it as a question rather than a statement.]

[depicted]

[This is going to go up there in the rankings in most awkward conversations Dorian has ever had, he realizes. And that is a fairly competitive list.]

Should I leave you to your work?

[Usually, Dorian has a better sense of when he is intruding (one he ignores, but still). This is just very awkward.]

[polyhistor]

What? No. No, I'm-- it's fine, I don't mind. I could probably use the interruption.

[... a brief pause, and then he glances around.]

What time is it, exactly?

[depicted]

[Dorian's head tilts, just a little.]

Sorry, I don't have a watch. Or a mobile. My battery's dead.

[a pause]

Why?

[polyhistor]

[Well, okay. Reid squints out the nearest window, making calculations based on shadow placement.]

I've been here for nine hours.

[... accidentally.]

[depicted]

[A pause. Study Reid. Try to understand the social cues.]

[Nope. His usual methods are failing him. He just has to be direct.]

Is that a good thing or a bad thing, or just an observation?

[polyhistor]

[The awkwardness is stifling. Like being wrapped in a scarf. Made of failure.]

It's... a long thing? I usually have, um-- [teammates.] people who kind of...

[... this is even more awkward to admit but he started talking he may as well finish the statement. To Dorian Gray.]

-- Remind me when to eat. That sort of thing. I get a little absorbed in my work.

[depicted]

[There is a momentary pause, and then Dorian gets to his feet. He briefly pats Spencer on the shoulder (sorry, but his was a physical social training) and says,]

Let me get you something. I'm starving myself. Then you can tell me what you're working on, yeah?

[And he smiles to put Reid at ease.]

[polyhistor]

[He doesn't quite flinch away from the physical contact, but his shoulders tense under Dorian's brief physical imposition.]

I'd, um-- ['like that' would be a lie, wouldn't it. He doesn't mind the interruption, but the assumed familiarity has him a little on edge.]

Sure. That'd be great.

[depicted]

What do you want?

[polyhistor]

[HE'S BEING PUT ON THE SPOT HELP HELP.]

I'm not fussy. Just nothing I have to eat with chopsticks, please. Oh, um--

[Give him a moment he's digging through his clothes for some money annnd-- there we go. He holds it out to Dorian.]

[depicted]

[Dorian accepts it with the same smile. His new method: just ignore everything that is awkward. Will it work? Who knows!]

[Anyway, he comes back with a simple food for Reid and something for himself and takes back his seat.] There you are.