Once it's discovered that they all speak the same language (science, with strong accents of biological sciences), the notebooks come out. Everyone's got a notebook, the place you put the equations and formulas and ideas that don't really fit into what you're working on at the moment but shouldn't be completely ignored, either.
(Jemma's notebooks have taken over one of her lab's closets. They're ridiculous, and she always feels a vague sense of embarrassment when she adds a new book to the stack.)
Not too much longer after that, they're having a five-way simultaneous argument about how best to place electrodes to monitor seizure activity in one of the monkeys under observation (and which wiring method will produce the cleanest results), complete with multiple diagrams (all being sketched and re-sketched and written over and highlighted and erased all at the same time by five pairs of hands).
And someone has unearthed the lab stash of candy. There's always a lab stash, for situations much like this. The world just runs better on sugar, caffeine, and natural theobromides.
There may be gesturing with kit-kats involved, we're just sayin'.
no subject
(Jemma's notebooks have taken over one of her lab's closets. They're ridiculous, and she always feels a vague sense of embarrassment when she adds a new book to the stack.)
Not too much longer after that, they're having a five-way simultaneous argument about how best to place electrodes to monitor seizure activity in one of the monkeys under observation (and which wiring method will produce the cleanest results), complete with multiple diagrams (all being sketched and re-sketched and written over and highlighted and erased all at the same time by five pairs of hands).
And someone has unearthed the lab stash of candy. There's always a lab stash, for situations much like this. The world just runs better on sugar, caffeine, and natural theobromides.
There may be gesturing with kit-kats involved, we're just sayin'.