audio; un: hgottlieb {dated post-palace attack + finn/sans post}

[bijective]

[As much as Hermann would prefer to type this all down into a text format, some things are better said than written.

The voice of a soft-spoken man with a posh British accent comes online. Although there is a bit of grit to his voice, almost as if he were yelling at the top of his lungs for the past decade.

He clears his throat.]

Pardon the intrusion. I know many of you are…preoccupied at the moment. This will only take a couple of moments of your time. I’ll do my best to be as brief as possible.

My name is Dr. Hermann Gottlieb. I’m an engineer and physicist with the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. While I don’t have an immediate solution to our…current predicament. [A pause. While others can’t see it, he is clenching a fist to keep his nerves in one place.] My hope is that we take this opportunity to take pause and inventory of our current and unique team.

[Another pause for him to take a breath. Almost there, Gottlieb.]

Kurt Gödel once speculated that there cannot be a universal mathematical theory to prove every phenomenon. That there is no single method to determine what can be proven and what is true.

[He bites the bottom of his lip. Hopefully, some people are following along.]

Let’s consider the statement “This statement is unprovable.” If the sentence can be proven, then this becomes an attempt to prove a falsehood. Our only option then is that the sentence is unprovable. Hence, we have a sentence that exists as both unprovable and true.

This does not prove mathematics to be an incomplete art. No, far from it. What it illustrates is that there is no one theory to explain the numerical truth value in “This statement is unprovable.”

[A beat.]

…Numbers do not lie. On the contrary, they have a way of revealing an infinite amount of truths about the universe. Which makes the human language even more fascinating. Existing in a state of truth and contradiction. Using them to create bonds with one another or… put distance from each other.

As a team, we should…at least attempt to know each other better. So that we can all play to our strengths and cover our vulnerabilities.

I believe you’ve all been acquainted with my colleague, Dr. Geislzer. He’s reminded me of one activity for us all to partake in: Two Truths and a Lie. A simple game, really. Make three statements about yourself and leave it to the group or individual to determine which is the lie.

Hopefully, this should serve as…a refresher. To refocus ourselves on the events to come.

…Thank you.

[So yeah! Hermann is proposing a game of Two Truths and a Lie as a team-building exercise. Feel free to treat this like a meme thread where you thread jack and all that fun stuff! Or just make fun of Hermann for being so long-winded.

He’ll probably have a hard time actually engaging in the game he’s proposing so he might need a little encouragement in that department!]

Comments

[groupiedrifter]

[Newton, who is in his corner of the room, looks over, grins, and sends one lone image through the earpiece:]

1/2

[bijective]

[He's coming out of his shell.

Well

More like a domestic cat coming out of hiding for some kibble.]

[bijective]

Stop that! I did my part. I don’t need any of your condescending jpegs.

[groupiedrifter]

Who says it was condescending? I didn't slow clap or anything!

[c:]

Besides, this is good. Now you can report back that you did what they asked you to do. And you're gonna actually get to know some living, breathing people around the station after this, instead of hunkering down with their chalkboard.

[bijective]

For the record, I don’t "hunker down" with my chalkboard.

[Says the one who looks utterly ridiculous in his jumper and stacks upon stacks on notes he's taken on Newton's behalf.]

I'll have you know I get along just fine with people. It's simply that there are still many projects to be completed and part of that requires cutting back on social activities. I don’t do it because I’m some hapless recluse.

[groupiedrifter]

Yeah? Just FYI Hermann, but there are always many projects to be completed. You're a scientist.

[He crumples up a doodle of a zig-zagging centipede creature he'd scribbled days and days beforehand, casually throwing the wad in Hermann's general direction. He's hoping for a proper bop on the head, but he'll take partial points. The room absolutely mimics the state of their lab, at this point; Hermann's is busy but tidier, and Newton's is a mess of stacked samples, lab code violations, and displaced papers with doodles in the margins.

There's a method to his madness; he always knows where to find what he needs!]

I'm just saying, what you just said, it's something a hapless recluse in denial would reply with.

[bijective]

[Newton, please. Hermann is a full-on nerd, not a tool. This isn’t his first rodeo. He knows when to bat a paper ball away before it properly bops him on the head.]

And with that comes immense responsibility to take advantage of what’s available to us. We’re out of the Kaiju War and into something beyond our wildest dreams. Our studies are rapidly evolving!

[He doesn’t even bother picking up the crumpled ball from the ground. Actually, his entire space, while well-organized, is littered with teacups on all different corners. One would think he’s hosting a tea party of his own.]

If I had the luxury, I’d eat my entire body weight in shepherd’s pie and beer, but I can’t lose focus on what’s ahead of us.

[groupiedrifter]

[Mr. Mad Hatter, you are. Newton snorts a laugh, leaning on his elbow.]

Out of all the things you'd eat your body weight in, you go straight for shepherd's pie? Man. French fries dipped in milkshakes, that's a better choice. Sweet and salty, and you don't even have to make it yourself or wait a million years at a restaurant.

[It's something he doesn't get a lot, and it's totally unfair!

Hong Kong needs more fast food joints.]

[bijective]

Pardon me if I gag at your wretched taste in comfort food.

[My word. When’s the last time Hermann’s had chips? Perhaps when he snuck out that one time late at night during his university days when all the shops were closed and all that was open was the humble chippy around the corner.]

How you manage to pack in that many carbohydrates and high-processed sugary fats is well beyond my comprehension.

[groupiedrifter]

Uhhhh, excuse me? Have you ever tried fries and milkshake together?

You're not allowed to gag unless you try it.

[Newton has always been a man of opportunity and boldness. If someone asked him to eat a pickle and icing sandwich, he'd do it. Sure, it'd taste horrible, but that's how science works - you test something, and you find that theory, and you have newfound knowledge!]

[bijective]

No. But I know my palate well enough to know chips and a milkshake are not, by any means, desirable. I would much rather pit myself against those enormous American-sized burgers before doing so. At least I would have the added benefit of a side salad and protein.

[As long as Newton doesn’t hear the tiny growls in his stomach, Hermann stands a fair chance to be as dismissive as possible.]

[groupiedrifter]

[ S Q U I N T ]

Whatever, man. You stink at trying new things.

And obviously, the side salad you're referring to is the interior of the burger, right?

[He smiles like a little gremlin, crinkles up another ball, and throws it again, this time aiming to make it into one of the tea cups.]

I'll ask you to try it on my birthday. You can't turn down a perfectly good birthday request.

[bijective]

The lettuce and tomato that slips off the second you pick the burger up from the platter? Yes. That’s exactly what I’m referring to.

[Swish! A clean three-pointer right inside Hermann's lukewarm oolong tea.

s i g h.]

Fine! You can have me taste test anything to your heart’s desires. But any food that is left to waste will be of your own doing. That goes for the bottle of antacid I’ll be forced to carry around as a second lifeline.

[groupiedrifter]

Don't be such a drama queen! I'll eat whatever you've got left over.

[He's absolutely not taking accountability for the antacid, though.]

Who knows when we'll even get a chance to try Space Wendy's, anyway. I could go another few years without seeing one, for all I know! Imagine what kinda torment I'm dealing with, here.

[Is he balling up another small piece of paper to shoot for the tea???

... Maybe.]

Hey, what carnival prize do I win if I make three shots?

1/3

[bijective]

You’ve survived the former half of your life gobbling down cup noodles and packets upon packets of tart breakfast pastries. What’s a few more in outer space?

Now —!

[bijective]

If you —!

[bijective]

Please —!

[He's got a total of (1) cup covered.]

My beverages are not to be used as your basketball court!

1/3

[groupiedrifter]

If they're not supposed to be basketball hoops, why are they all over the place???

Wait — did you just call Pop Tarts packets of tart pastries?

[He puts his hand to his chest, as if UTTERLY OFFENDED.]

What kind of butcher are you?

2/3

[groupiedrifter]

[Suddenly, there is a very clear-cut sound of a stomach gurgling from across the room.

... It is not Newton's, for the record.]

[groupiedrifter]

.............

Getting a little faint over there at the talk of food, Dr. Gottlieb?

[B^)]

[bijective]

[Hermann’s got his eyes on Newton while his other hand is frenetically hovering over the brim of his cup.]

Not another word! I’ve had a long day jumping between this [Gesturing at the research in front of them] and that bloody objective!

[He picks up his cup and takes a sip. Telling from the disgusted look on his face it’s easy to make out that his drink is iced cold.]

[groupiedrifter]

[He sits and stares for a long moment, unnaturally quiet for 5 seconds of his life. Then he hops up, plucking up Hermann's cane as he goes.]

Alright! Lunch break it is!

We're gonna go crash the local noodle shop. [He's gonna grab Hermann's arm and drag him up to his feet with his uninjured hand, the cane tucked up under one armpit and waiting for its owner with bated breath.] C'mon, get off your ass, let's mosey! We wouldn't want to go another moment without nutrrrrition.

[Yes, he rolled the R quite Britishly.]

[bijective]

[What feels like an eternity of watching Newton give off a thousand-mile stare soon becomes an oncoming storm of Hermann being pulled up by his arm with the word noodles being somewhere in the mix.]

Newton, will you plea—!

[And, right on cue, his stomach makes another growly mewl from underneath his frumpy sweaters. A light shade of pink flushes over his cheeks.]

Alright, alright! Let me get up on my own.

[Being pulled to stand upright has all the blood come rushing down into his feet, looking wobbly in the process.]

[groupiedrifter]

[Snort.]

Hermann, there's no need to blush; this is a super casual date.

[Tease tease tease - but he keeps his hand under Hermann's elbow, same as usual; it's a sort of strange instinct that has developed over the last few years of being in each other's gravitational pull, after one too many times of watching Hermann struggle to rise or sit or generally lag behind on a long walk through the Shatterdome.]

You know how the Jaeger pilots have poker games to cope before? Well, our coping method can obviously be just stuffing our face until we fall over. I'm gonna eat so many noodles, I'll become a noodle. It's foolproof.

[bijective]

[There is a retort at the tip of Hermann’s tongue, but he’s too bothered by how exhausted he feels inside. Out of fuel without an ounce of gas inside him. He’s now running on auto-pilot being subjected to Newton’s tacky teasing.

He huffs.]

…I can’t see why not. We haven’t had a proper meal in nearly a decade. For once I’d like to have pasta that hasn’t been dehydrated and locked up in an icebox.

[He forgets himself being helped by Newton. The small, mundane touches of taking his time getting up or holding onto his arm while they bolt down the hallway. A reminder to Hermann that Newton does what he can to walk right beside him.]

God help me if I find a proper fleisch rouladen.