Newt Geiszler | Pacific Rim (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
groupiedrifter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2022-02-14 01:47 am
groupiedrifter) wrote in ximilialog2022-02-14 01:47 am
[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 WannaBuild 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!]
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
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!]
no subject
Are you kidding?
That was me from the moment I started my academic adventure!
You think this devious little face got through school without raising a lot of hell? I was in the office so much, my dad knew he had to go to the school without even answering the call. I love those kinda kids!
[Even if he'd bicker with them 100%, they're On His Level.]
no subject
Consider me corrected.
Are you saying you would have been right along with me, then? Making questionably legal time jumps and watching history instead of reading about it.
no subject
[Newt leans forward, beaming at the thought.]
Clara said she'd totally take me along sometime if we get a chance; you know I'm gonna go all over the place! I'm gonna play on the same stage as the Sex Pistols and I'm gonna touch a dinosaur, and I'm totally gonna have front row seats to the moon landing from the moon!
[... Ehem.]
... If I get to jump time later, I mean.
But I've got a list!
no subject
[ Her eyes positively light up at the idea of the many, many adventures they could have with one of the Doctor's least favorite bits of technology. She'd swear he criticized it more than her gun. ]
You know a friend and I once raced some dinosaurs. [ Friend. Only other husband she actually claims. Same difference. ] He was trying to cheer me up. You mustn't tell the Doctor.
no subject
Ugh, be still my beating heart!!
[He puts both hands over said heart dramatically, of course.]
I can't believe this. You got to race some dinos and I didn't. The world is unfair; let's swap places for a day! Princess and the Pauper style! I'll race some dinosaurs in your stead!
no subject
For you, Sweetie, it's a deal I might make.
[ She pauses to give him a brief once-over, eyes shining with amusement. ]
I don't think Jack would mind. He might even let you win.
no subject
[SOUNDS LIKE A HARDY CHALLENGE.]
no subject
[ She smiles and shrugs. ]
Oh, he blamed the dinosaur, but it was his own fault he fell off. He saddled her incorrectly.
[ Those words put together in a sentence seem absurd, but somehow she sounds entirely serious. ]
no subject
[HE IS ABSOLUTELY NOT.]
Sounds like Jack got into a lot of trouble, though. My kinda guy! We could be best buddies.
no subject
Did a lot of riding, did you?
[ But as to Jack. ]
I married him for a reason, didn't I? We've gotten into plenty of trouble together. And out of plenty of trouble together. I think you'd get along splendidly.
no subject
You bet I did.
But — hold on. Wait. What do you mean, married? [He points his left finger to her, his right finger to some random space beyond him to the right.] I thought you and Doc...
no subject
[ Then she seems to remember she's talking to an Earth human, even if that Earth human is Newt. ]
The Doctor has his life and I had mine. Admittedly, I wouldn't count most of my other marriages and he's probably forgotten half of his.
But Jack is a friend.
[ Meaning, she hadn't married him out of convenience or because she'd been trying to get her hands on something. ]
no subject
[He smiles, though there's a wince to it, like he's not sure if he's about to put his foot in his own mouth.]
... Would it be over the line to ask a pretty lady like yourself how old you are?
no subject
I'm not sure I'd go that far, Sweetie. The Doctor, he tends to get himself into complicated situations. Honestly, how many accidental marriages can one man have? And my marriages are usually a means to an end.
But the Doctor is my husband. As is Jack.
[ She's not entirely sure if she's making herself clear, but she's doing her best. ]
It's not easy to keep track, you know, when you aren't doing things the long way around. Somewhere...north of 200. Things get a bit muddled after that.
[ Even if she did have a real sense of how long she'd been in The Library, does she count that time? She hadn't really been living. But she hadn't really been dead either. ]
no subject
[He says it simply, stares for a moment in what some would call impoliteness.
He runs a hand over his mouth and it settles on his chin.]
Well.
... You look smokin' for 200.
no subject
She smiles, giving a faint little shrug. ]
I know.
But thank you, Sweetie. I always accept compliments.