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)
ximilia2022-07-06 09:59 pm
groupiedrifter) wrote in ximilia2022-07-06 09:59 pm
Video; un: newt | a day or two before the Big Mission Log
[The little electronics shop has a small back room that is dangerously close to detection, when it comes to any government workers coming or going; just a door with a little private sign on the front — and behind that, there's a figure huddled over a desk, tie loosened and hair askew as he takes apart disarmed detonation collars and puts together prototypes to shut them down completely. His focus is impeccable, that's to be sure, but he's going on a second or maybe third night in a row without rest as he stares down the glassy front of a magnifying glass, fingers shock-still around a small welding gun that carefully patches pieces of refurbished technology together.
There is a hefty-sized box beside him, and he's placing his newly created disarming tools into it one at a time; it's gotten quite full. As he works... he starts... rambling into the feed. It does not stop. It almost seems like it never will.
Beside him on the desk, there are generic brand MEGA-CAFFEINE PATCHES.]
I can't just take it easy. Are you kidding? Taking it easy means there's less time to perfect the proper tools we need for this job; if I screw up and everyone's heads pop like grapes, what's that gonna say about me? That I'm a two-bit piece of shit engineer — and yeah, okay, so engineering isn't my primary skillset, but I helped build giant plasma canons, alright? I fortified armaments for 200 foot robots! I built a drifting PONS out of garbage! So, like, I can't just fail at this mission. Besides, this is Viv's home world, so if I fuck it up, I'll basically be letting her down; what would I even say? "Sorry I let people you probably care about go kablooey? At least I made you a dumpy robot body that isn't anywhere near as good as the ones you've got on your world?" Pfft, no, no way. So excuuuse me if I hit some caffeine patch vendors up for a little pick-me-up; what else was I gonna do, snort sci-fi cocaine? I'm not gonna snort sci-fi cocaine; let's leave that to the Scarface wannabes, yeah? I'm steady as shit right now, couldn't be more steady, like Doogie Howser up in this bi — shit! Electronic shock. Sorry. Don't worry, I'm not gonna blow myself up. C'mon, do I look like a guy who would blow himself up? Okay, maybe I look like a guy who'd blow himself up, but I've been alive 36 blissful years and I haven't turned myself into a reenactment of Jeff Goldblum at the end of The Fly yet. What a sick movie, totally worth it for the gross-out. A lesser man would have played it in its entirety at one of our movie nights, but I'm a kind and compassionate soul who would never do such a thing; Newton H. Geiszler is an angel. I don't know why I put an 'H' in there, I don't have a middle name. Does everyone have a middle name? Shit, did my dad skimp out on me? First he makes me a torrid love affair baby, then he curses me genetically with the gold trophy standard of ADHD and bad eyesight, and now he's not giving me my due right as a German-American by giving me some ugly middle name like Clarence or Wolfgang. Actually, Wolfgang sounds kind of lit. Newton Wolfgang Geiszler. Dude, I might just adopt that for myself. Shit! I don't know. What time is it? Someone'll come and let me know when we're doing the mission thing, right? 'Cus I'll be fine to do it, I'll rest in a little bit; I've been taking catnaps in-between finishing disarming tools. Trust me, I'm the king of taking power naps while sitting upright. I've even done it on a stool before, easy peasy pumpkin peasy pumpkin pie. Oh! Actually, I need to think of names for these ones, right? Like how I named the Newtrilizer. I loved that fucking thing; I'm actually using a few notes from that to help make these, too. But I'm seriously blanking on a name... Hermann would probably think it's stupid to name it, but what does he know, anyway? Only a complete loser would name something after a bunch of dead scientists or boring numbers. He's not here to stop me, so whatever! I'll do what I want! And what I want is to name this one The Geiszler Extemporizer. The Geiszler Depolarizer? Or is that too long? It's kind of a mouthful... I guess naming it something that ends in E-R is pretty boring, though. Maybe I'm boring, too. Damn, I don't wanna be boring... Ooooh, I think I'm having heart palpations. Or hot flashes? I really need to get some air conditioning installed in this place. How am I so poor and underequipped in every job after MIT? You'd think saving the world would get me a hell of a lot more money; mo' money, less problems, ha! Ha.... Mmmrrr.
[He quiets for a moment, then another moment, and then his head slouches forward to rest on his chest. There's a quiet buzzing of dead noise and a soft snore before he he startles back awake, gripping the soldering tool more firmly in his hand.]
Whoa!
[He sniffs, rubbing his eye.
Looks left. Looks right.
Squints at the equivalent of a flashing red video light in his vision.]
... Was I recording?
There is a hefty-sized box beside him, and he's placing his newly created disarming tools into it one at a time; it's gotten quite full. As he works... he starts... rambling into the feed. It does not stop. It almost seems like it never will.
Beside him on the desk, there are generic brand MEGA-CAFFEINE PATCHES.]
I can't just take it easy. Are you kidding? Taking it easy means there's less time to perfect the proper tools we need for this job; if I screw up and everyone's heads pop like grapes, what's that gonna say about me? That I'm a two-bit piece of shit engineer — and yeah, okay, so engineering isn't my primary skillset, but I helped build giant plasma canons, alright? I fortified armaments for 200 foot robots! I built a drifting PONS out of garbage! So, like, I can't just fail at this mission. Besides, this is Viv's home world, so if I fuck it up, I'll basically be letting her down; what would I even say? "Sorry I let people you probably care about go kablooey? At least I made you a dumpy robot body that isn't anywhere near as good as the ones you've got on your world?" Pfft, no, no way. So excuuuse me if I hit some caffeine patch vendors up for a little pick-me-up; what else was I gonna do, snort sci-fi cocaine? I'm not gonna snort sci-fi cocaine; let's leave that to the Scarface wannabes, yeah? I'm steady as shit right now, couldn't be more steady, like Doogie Howser up in this bi — shit! Electronic shock. Sorry. Don't worry, I'm not gonna blow myself up. C'mon, do I look like a guy who would blow himself up? Okay, maybe I look like a guy who'd blow himself up, but I've been alive 36 blissful years and I haven't turned myself into a reenactment of Jeff Goldblum at the end of The Fly yet. What a sick movie, totally worth it for the gross-out. A lesser man would have played it in its entirety at one of our movie nights, but I'm a kind and compassionate soul who would never do such a thing; Newton H. Geiszler is an angel. I don't know why I put an 'H' in there, I don't have a middle name. Does everyone have a middle name? Shit, did my dad skimp out on me? First he makes me a torrid love affair baby, then he curses me genetically with the gold trophy standard of ADHD and bad eyesight, and now he's not giving me my due right as a German-American by giving me some ugly middle name like Clarence or Wolfgang. Actually, Wolfgang sounds kind of lit. Newton Wolfgang Geiszler. Dude, I might just adopt that for myself. Shit! I don't know. What time is it? Someone'll come and let me know when we're doing the mission thing, right? 'Cus I'll be fine to do it, I'll rest in a little bit; I've been taking catnaps in-between finishing disarming tools. Trust me, I'm the king of taking power naps while sitting upright. I've even done it on a stool before, easy peasy pumpkin peasy pumpkin pie. Oh! Actually, I need to think of names for these ones, right? Like how I named the Newtrilizer. I loved that fucking thing; I'm actually using a few notes from that to help make these, too. But I'm seriously blanking on a name... Hermann would probably think it's stupid to name it, but what does he know, anyway? Only a complete loser would name something after a bunch of dead scientists or boring numbers. He's not here to stop me, so whatever! I'll do what I want! And what I want is to name this one The Geiszler Extemporizer. The Geiszler Depolarizer? Or is that too long? It's kind of a mouthful... I guess naming it something that ends in E-R is pretty boring, though. Maybe I'm boring, too. Damn, I don't wanna be boring... Ooooh, I think I'm having heart palpations. Or hot flashes? I really need to get some air conditioning installed in this place. How am I so poor and underequipped in every job after MIT? You'd think saving the world would get me a hell of a lot more money; mo' money, less problems, ha! Ha.... Mmmrrr.
[He quiets for a moment, then another moment, and then his head slouches forward to rest on his chest. There's a quiet buzzing of dead noise and a soft snore before he he startles back awake, gripping the soldering tool more firmly in his hand.]
Whoa!
[He sniffs, rubbing his eye.
Looks left. Looks right.
Squints at the equivalent of a flashing red video light in his vision.]
... Was I recording?
no subject
Neutronics Electronics, of course! It's my little shop in the lower circles.
Perfect for frankensteining tools together!
no subject
the portal does not open immediately. gwen needs to put further space between herself and guards and hoverbots both. she finds space and privacy close to the contaminated reservoir. near its banks, she crouches. the twin screens on her watch glow. the portal opens before her. 〉
Newt! You better not have had a stimulant-induced heart attack or I swear—
〈 on his side, the portal too opens by the floor. huddled by the black earth, gwen wears the same outfit the inmates do complete with collar—with the small exception that her collar is a dud. (thank you, viveca.) familiar black spiders cling to her hands or skitter across her collar. 〉
no subject
I'm definitely having a heart attack!
[But then he stands, a little wobbly from not budging from his chair for hours, and turns to give Gwen a little smile — and then turns his attention to the other company in the room that just so happens to be crawling on her collar.]
Hey! It's my little gooey buddies! I was wondering where those went.
no subject
literally. she is their host.
not stepping through the portal, gwen instead holds out her hand, the newtrilizer in her palm. 〉
Forgive me if I don’t squeeze you or knock you out, choice of which is still up in the air, but if I leave and try to come back I will set off every alarm in the place.
no subject
But he's grinning anyway as he takes the Newtrilizer in his hand.]
Aww, that's a shame. I love being squeezed and knocked out. In that order!
I guess I'll just have to settle for this.
[winkwinkwink]
no subject
Lay off the caffeine, man. Philip J. Fry is not someone to emulate.
no subject
Of course I'm not emulating him! I'm a genius.
Maybe you're the one we should be worrying about when it comes to emulating famous characters, Miss Shawshank.
no subject
I did my time, Doc. 〈 gwen tips her head to the side. 〉 And I'm staying put here.
Stay frosty. 〈 spider-woman out. 〉
no subject
[He hollers it in huffy rebuttal as the portal closes, and then he kicks at the air where it had been, 'cus Gwen totally cut off his snarky retort.]