ximilialog | [OPEN] i can see clearly now the desert's gone

Entry tags:

[OPEN] i can see clearly now the desert's gone

CHARACTERS: Newton Geiszler and You!
LOCATION: See each prompt.
DATE: Feb 13th - March 1st
CONTENT: Newton Feb Station Catch-all!
WARNINGS: None that I can think of, will update individual threads if needed!

I. Post Mission Respite | (infirmary; Feb 13th)

[Newt's kind of all over the place, when he returns back to the station. He's covered in soot from detonating those mines, and there's a make-shift wrap tied tight around his calf where a pulsefire burn throbs unpleasantly, so he's a bit of a mess in general. Exhaustion almost carries him to bed, but he visits the infirmary first; too many friends are hurt, too many need to be checked up on. It's easy to feel guilty... because after all, his only real injury is one that's self-inflicted.

Not only that, but that poor old man... It's awful to think about.

Though he has to admit, it's easy to push the events of the mission into the back of his mind now that they're here again. Such thoughts usually take longer to leave him, but he finds himself more determined to just let it go and push forward. He knows a little first aid, so he'll implement it for anyone who needs it, wearily limping his way over to the nearest slightly injured soul to say:]

You're looking a little rough. Let's see those cuts, man.

[God knows nobody around here takes care of themselves (including himself, it seems).

... Newt'll go take a nice long shower after this.]

II. Valentine's Day Chocolate Thief | (lab)

[He's gotta admit, he always loved Valentine's Day. Not just because he's a sucker for giving out candy and all that to his friends and family (and... y'know... lover, if it's one of those years), but he also likes to splurge on candies for himself. The sweet tooth this guy has is ridiculous, and so he pilfers some of those boxes of chocolates for himself the moment they hit the kitchen.

The lab feels nice and homely after being away for two months and change, he thinks. He places some of the leftover Newtrilizers into the glass case he keeps, alongside the monster tissue samples from their very first mission. You just never know when you need to revisit such things, huh? Eating chocolates between writing some meager reports about pulsefire (composition, geographical location, all of the things he'd learned upon studying it under a microscope), he switches between his Artificial Tissue Replication project and picking up his electric guitar and jamming out very loudly; Elthree had gotten him a portable amplifier, after all, so no more frankenstein-speaker needed to get a little nuts! Sorry for your ears!

Every so often he stops to eat some chocolates.

Sometimes he's lying on the floor, plucking out a tune on the guitar lying across his chest.

He likes the floor, y'know? Very cold, very nice on his achy back. He hunches too much.

If he's not playing his guitar while lying on the ground like a weirdo, he's speaking into his handheld voice recorder:]

— besides precise geometric control for the de novo reconstruction of complex structures, biomimetic tissue proxies depend on vascularized networks for sustained delivery of nutrients and oxygen as well as waste transport off-site. Therefore, sacrificial materials were incorporated into printed 3D tissue constructs that can be removed upon demand to generate perfusable tubular structures. I've employed a versatile scheme, wherein sacrificial carbohydrate glass-lattices are printed and incorporated into various cellularized polymers in a mold. Upon lattice dissolution endothelial cells were perfused to line the channels walls mimicking a vascular epithelium —

[Yuck, science.

If he's not doing that, he's pouring over medical textbooks that McCoy had given him a while ago to study. That's kinda his next big focus, anyway — being able to stitch together someone who might be bleeding out, or assess them for a crisis. Like, y'know. Seizures. Stuff like that.

Maybe someday he'll be Dr. Newton Geiszler, PhD, PhD, PhD, PhD, PhD, PhD,... MD.]

III. Do you Wanna ~~Build a Snowman~~ Watch a Movie? | (simulation room, etc.)

Hey.

[Someone prods your shoulder. As it turns out, it's Newton, hair askew and pajamas on as though he'd been considering going to sleep but has second-guessed this concept. Don't worry about why he's not wanting to sleep right now, okay? Focus on the big picture!]

Let's go watch a movie. You get the snacks, I've got the flicks. Whaddya' say?

[In truth, he just wants to keep himself preoccupied with some good company. It's so easy these days to get wrapped up in your own head; why not distract yourself with the fellowship of some good pals? Or hell, even mild acquaintances. Newt's never been picky, especially with the Take What You Can Get system he's employed even since his youth.]

I've got Godzilla.

... And some super fun rip-offs from home.

And the simulation room's probably free, if you wanna make it more than just a white sheet on a wall.

[He usually puts together some big sleepover for the whole ship, but... lately, he's just not interested. They're tired, he's tired, and maybe it's for the best if he cuts down on the obnoxious need to keep everyone's spirits up. After all, they probably don't like it nearly as much as he does. But a smaller watch group? Oh, he's all over that!]

IV. Culinary Arts: Mac N' Cheese Edition | (kitchen)

[It's Yelena's fault, really. She reminded him of one of his favoritest dishes to make, and he got real homesick for it (homesick in the PPDC sense, anyway). So he stands in the kitchen at yet another unnecessarily late hour, having moved from the lab to the stove, and stirs an oversized pot of macaroni that is clearly the easy-to-make boxed mac'n'cheese. Space Kraft.

He hums a diddy by Stiff Little Fingers as he works, but eventually gets distracted playing old videos on his phone. He sets the small screen down on the counter and watches with his arms folded on the surface and chin tucked into them. Mako Mori is complaining at him for filming her as she eats a doughnut, but her mouth is too full and she can't even properly lecture him. Hermann's mumbling under his breath as he draws out long equations on an oversized blackboard, deep in his thoughts. The Sasha Kaidonovsky and Chuck Hansen arm wrestling, tipsy PPDC members hooting around them as Sasha begins to slowly his arm back. Pentecost trying to look professional at the birthday cake presented to him by Choi and the others. A new years celebration, where everyone looks at ease for once.

It's super weird, really. They were always pretty detached from the rest of the PPDC. The science division, that is. But... He had also not realized how many things he'd recorded during the years he spent there. He also can't help but notice just how many people weren't alive anymore in these videos.

It puts things into perspective. He needs to get his regret fixed, so that more of these people can go on with their lives... after the war's done again.

He doesn't notice his water's boiling over a bit. Oops.

...

Don't be disturbed when he squirts a big glob of ketchup into his pasta-filled bowl afterward.]

V. 20/20 Visionary | (armory; end of Feb)

[After visiting the armory, he has a standard-issued Heckler and Koch HK45 built for himself.

It's just something he's been feeling might be of use lately, even if he's still yet to take a life. It's not supposed to be part of his job, right? To take a life. He makes things for the soldiers, but he's no soldier. Still... It's been more and more evident that he needs to take this seriously; with every mission they go on, there's a moment where he could have used this kind of protection. He can't be forcing the others to watch out for him. He's gotta be able to pull his own weight.

No more childishness, right? No more losing sight of what's important here.

In the shooting range situated in the training room, he puts on some noise cancelling earmuffs and practices shooting a target. They're not the best shots, but he's putting the work in to make them better.

Strange.

How is he shooting clearly when he's not wearing his glasses?

Now that's a terribly unusual sight.]

[NOTE: Feel free to throw a starter here or wildcard it up, if you have ideas!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ugh. Can't you project some delicious mac n' cheese for yourself?

Being a projection sounds terrible.]

Oh, it always turns out favorably. This has been my comfort food since I could talk! The trick's using more butter than milk, y'know? Otherwise it's all soupy and gross. [But more importantly!] How're you doing, by the way? Be honest, too! We're all supposed to practice honesty around here, right?

[that'd mean having to project throwing it up...that just sounds like a lot of work fam.

that aside, Blue smiles a little at mention of comfort food - it's a pleasant notion. he can't say he grew terribly fond of this or that kind of nutritional gruel on the Shangri-La, but he never minded sharing synthetic whisky with Harley....

at the more-importantly, his expression shifts with some renewed alertness...and softens in his hesitation.]

Things are difficult on my body right now, unfortunately. It's why I must rely on mental projection a bit more to see you and the others. I hope you don't mind; I will try not to frighten you.

[gosh it'd be terrible and isolating if that power were to just like...randomly shut off fifty percent of the time. dang.]

... Yeah, I've heard you've been having a rough time.

But don't sweat it! You don't scare me.

I mean, loud noises or things suddenly appearing scares me sometimes, but not you.

[Totally makes sense. He considers something carefully for a moment as he moves to drain the pasta.]

If I eat and you, like, focus on my thoughts or feelings, would you kinda feel what it's like? To be eating it?

[Blue smiles, a gentle chuckle echoing in his thoughts.]

The physical senses won't translate - taste, feeling... But what emotions you connect to it will. Nostalgia, comfort. Psionics can't fully comprehend bodily senses...just like bodily senses can't fully comprehend psionics.

[Blue smiles, but Newt frowns a bit helplessly.

Man.]

Are you able to eat at all right now?

I mean, I could always bring you some. Just a little?

[Everyone deserves to try mac n' cheese, dude. He's bummed! Empathetic bummed!]

[the smile starts to take on an apologetic quality with the way Blue's brow pinches.]

You're very thoughtful, Newt. Thank you. But I don't think...I'd be able to keep it down. I would hate to ruin something like that - something comforting to you.

[He pouts at that, more at himself than anything.]

That sucks, man. I'll figure out something, though, okay? Just leave it to me.

[But... After a moment, he looks over, worry in his expression.]

... How bad is it, now?

Edited 2022-02-25 19:36 (UTC)

[funny: repetition doesn't seem to make this easier. quite the opposite, really! everyone cares so much...it hurts to add to the burdens on their minds and hearts.

the smile wanes with this in mind, his gaze drifting.]

Not very good at all, I'm afraid. Forgive me: I don't...have much good news to bring to you in this regard. [he fixes eyes back on Newt.] But I am not gone, so there is still reason to strive. Right?

[Newt's shoulders sag, an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. He's worked in the science field — medical, even — long enough to know this happens. Hell, a lot of the stuff he worked on, it was for things that had a lot of people who suffered terribly unfortunate health issues. It doesn't really make it any easier to face, though, and this is one of those times where he actually knows the person well enough to feel the strain of it.

Even still... His eyes brighten, and he nods firmly, determined.]

Of course! You're still here, and that's awesome. Nobody's promised today, so we shouldn't take 'em for granted, right? Or — that's what my dad loved to say. But we'll still see what we can do to make things easier, okay?

You're not in this alone! You've got us.

...

The dramatic speech thing looks kinda silly while I'm holding a pot of macaroni and cheese, huh?

[Blue's specter seems to shift to a warmer color to some degree, eyes crinkling with affection. he laughs a little, shaking his head.]

No. I can see your earnestness, just as plainly as I can hear your words. I'm grateful for both. [he bows his head.] Thank you, Newt.

[He smiles back, a little pink in the face but no less pleased with himself. Hey, whatever gets someone to look like that, right? Newt's not as good at it as a lot of other people around here. Not like his uncle, who can make anyone laugh effortlessly.]

Hey, it's no prob.

Now! We gotta find something for us to watch. You got enough fancy spectral energy to hang out for something? Oh! You gotta meet my family. I mean, it'd be a one-sided meeting if it's through videos, but-

[He sheepishly nudges at his phone sitting on the counter, the video folder still opened.]

[Blue's eyebrows lift curiously at the suggestion.]

You have footage of them? From Earth?

Well, yeah! I'm a super sentimental dude, so I've got all kinds of recordings I've kept over the years. [His uncle's a major electronics nerd; even if Jacob Geiszler never touched a video camera in his life, Newt would have gotten it from Uncle Illia either way.] I've got all kinds of Newt's Greatest Hits on here. But also just, like. Y'know. Home videos.

[He thins his lips, looking a mite sheepish.]

For when I get homesick.

[He loves his tiny family; the feeling of adoration and care pours out of his mind effortlessly.]

[Blue draws in closer - some real moth-to-the-flame energy here. and how can he resist? there's a natural draw to understanding natural familial ties - ties he doesn't know himself. and the warmth that Newt exudes just at the mention...

well, cats aren't the only creatures drawn to warm things.]

I want to see them. If you watch them...I can see them through your eyes.

Perfect! Here, this one's — ha! This one's always funny to show my pals.

[The video opens on a mess of brown hair that takes up most of the shot, just before a spectacled pair of big hazel eyes surrounded by freckles emerge from the bottom of the frame; it's very much Newton circa 1998, small and young as he adjusts the frame a bit. He speaks in German, but it's translated through Newton's mind:

"I've stolen Illia's camera! Look, see —" He pads through the small house; the home is a bit dated, the kind that would remind one of an older, more distinguished sort of living space, though the Pokemon toys and Ninja Turtles strewn on a nearby table directly juxtapose pastels with loud, bright colors. "Dad is cooking me noodles; Papa! Look, say hello to my friends!"

Jacob turns to the camera, mildly off-guard as he pushes up on his glasses. They're thinner-rimmed than Newts, more subtle, and he seems to be dressed terribly proper with his slacks business attire. He's much thinner than Newton as an adult, and the wave he offers is smaller and meeker than his son's ever was. "Your friends? Is this for school?"

"No, it's for the future! This is like time travel. I'm letting them see into the past. Say hello to my older friends! This is for when I am old like you." Jacob double-takes at the 'old' comment, but relents, says with a breathy laugh: "Hello, older Newton — and older Newton's friends! Please keep my boy out of trouble."

"Nobody can stop me from being trouble!" Newt says confidently, storming through the kitchen into the adjoining hallway. He stops at a door that is absolutely covered in stickers. So many, you must wonder if the door is just composed of them instead of wood. Newt is mutter-singing in English, accent thick, as he moves, "Breaking the law, breaking the law, Breaking the law, breaking the law — this is my room! And this is my uncle; Illia, I stole the camera!"

Illia is sitting on Newt's little dinosaur-themed bed, hunkered over a toy with a screwdriver. He's a bigger fellow, round and red-cheeked and lightly bearded. If Santa had a brother who repaired the toys next to a lake with a beer next to him, it'd be Uncle Illia. He looks amused. "I know you stole it, I watched you do it."

"Did not-! I was sneaky."

"You are a lot of things, Newty, but you're not sneaky."

"Shh! I'm recording for future friends. Tell them what you're doing!"

"I'm fixing a broken King Kong toy, is what I'm doing." He motions at Newton with a big, calloused hand. "Come, bring the camera here! Let's record how to fix this so future you knows what he's doing when he repairs his own toys."

The video suddenly cuts to a little set-up of lumpy animal figures made of clay, though, with small hands moving them around the paper set; Newt's narrating different facts about each.]

Edited 2022-03-04 18:43 (UTC)

[Looking at Blue, he says sheepishly:]

... I recorded over the last part of that with my animal documentary.

[Blue silently observes and takes in these images through Newton's eyes and ears and the fond familiarity that comes with it. it's like...being wrapped in a warm blanket, encircled by the arms of someone well loved, free of anxiety; nostalgia winds around his heart and makes it ache when it tries to soar.

he does stir a little out of this spell when Newt startles and recognizes where the footage cuts off, but it's barely a flicker in the comforting feeling that remains. he wears a pensive, soft expression, not responding to the remark right away.

...or at all.

instead:] Keeping you out of trouble... I hope your father will forgive us. We've failed at that...a lot.

Thank goodness you're strong enough to endure.

[Newt smiles over at Blue, expression particularly soft and subdued. Family videos just do some kinda something to him; he wishes he could pull his uncle and dad into a big hug right now. He hasn't gotten to hug them in so long.]

Hey, you heard little me. I can't be kept outta trouble.

I think my dad would just be happy I have friends that try.

[His eyes squinch up in amusement.]

He sure tried to keep me out of trouble, too. But y'know, he'd be totally losing his mind if he knew I was stuck on a big space station, going out there on the front lines. That's the funny thing about being someone's kid; you're always their 'kid', even when you're in your mid-thirties.

[God, wait 'til his dad hears about the kaiju almost eating him (allegedly).

He's gonna pass right out.]

[Blue's mouth curves up just slightly, his expression soft, but fond. the yearning isn't something he conveys through expression, but just the way his thoughts follow.]

Is it...always like that? I don't remember it. Fathers. Mothers.

More and more...I learn some sense of them...from you, from others here. But I don't know...if I'll ever understand it for myself.

[Newt's smile fades a little at that; he can see his mother standing on a big beauty stage with long velvet curtains, singing to a crowd instead of her son. She's beautiful and graceful and doesn't know he's in the audience; the longing is palpable, stronger than the thin veil of outrage.]

... No, not always like that. There are a lot of mothers and fathers who are only called that because they biologically made kids. But they're not real parents. Y'know? Some people, they don't deserve the title.

You don't have to have them, though. A mom or dad.

It can feel like a big hole in your life, especially when you grow up around people who had both, but... every relationship is important. They can be just as fulfilling. And they patch up the holes sometimes, too.

Like... My uncle, he's pretty much my second dad. A lot of who I am now is 'cus of him.

[there's a soft, amused sound that precedes his response.]

You manage to find your way to others...without ever seeing the bonds.

...No. Perhaps that's unfair to think. You simply...understand them there, in your own ways. It isn't always one-to-one...between each other...but each person is...living that bit of reality with each other.

I hardly understand how you do it. You and the others...are far more complex and unrestrained than any humans I ever knew before.

[local Mu calls friend unhinged (affectionate).]

[Newt's eyebrows rise higher on his crinkly forehead.]

You think so?

I mean, I like being complex! Complex is good, right? It means we're never boring! [Frankly, that's a concern of Newt's, more than a lot of other things that would be much healthier to worry about. He looks pleased, though, at a particular thought.] You're living in this bit of reality with me, too. Isn't this nice? Just existing together? It's so cool. When you really think about it, there's so much working right now to make this happen. Like, scientifically! All these cogs around us turning so that we can have this moment that can never be perfectly replicated.

Cogs, woven threads... However you put it, the result is the same. [Blue puts a hand over where his heart would be.] You and the others...are truly lively and fascinating people to be around.

I'm lucky to know you. [scientifically or not.]

[Newt smiles at that, warmed by his words.]

Well, hey. I'm happy to know you, too. And I promise I'll do whatever I can to make sure you get to feel the same stuff we get to! So don't even sweat it.

[And honestly, he hasn't been feeling very well lately... mentally, or something. It's nothing, not anything for anyone to worry about. Physically, he's been solid. He's better than ever! It's just — he's had bad months before, even if it's been years, so. It's fine.

He's fine.]

You wanna, um... watch some more videos?

[It can be a nice evening of pleasant emotions for you, pal.

Not that that's all he's planning on doing. No sir.]

[OPEN] i can see clearly now the desert's gone

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