I stopped talking about the super-powers. I just wanted to know if my level of "impossible" was superhuman, since I get told that a lot. Flatter me. Tell me it is.
You mean that our pluralization will be interpreted as crazy? Let me let you in on a secret here, Hermann, one I'm sure is not a secret to you or will not long be a secret to you if it was before: I am used to being called crazy. You get that a lot, when word gets out that you see a therapist and require drugs to level out your brain chemicals, and when your neuroses are evident in your mannerisms. I can kind of handle that. Can you, though? And don't take this as a challenge. Just don't. It is not a fun way to go through life, especially in dealing with your peers. "Ten years experience..."--you've fought hard for that recognition, but trust me, it goes out the window and means very little when they think you're cuckoo for chocopuffs. It might be easier to let them know.
I have no intention of doing so when you manage that perfectly fine without anyone's assistance.
Nothing quite so extreme as that. I'm referring to the type of relationship it may imply to those unfamiliar with either of us. Certainly, that has already been misinterpreted at least once while we've been here.
We've both fought for recognition, Newton. And we'll get it- in our world if not here.
If I must be blunt, I'm sure you remember when Hiro asked if we were married. That sort of misinterpretation.
I'm well aware of how to handle such things, if you'll recall.
-- Dr. Hermann Gottlieb
PS. It figures you would observe the invisible boundaries but not the physical ones. Newton, short of contracting a terminal illness, I'll never forbid you from visiting. Even then, I doubt I'd be able to stop you.
Oh! That! But we got that before the Drift. I mean, I'm pretty such some of the jtech are still convinced we're married, but then again, I'm not entirely sure Tendo ever tried to correct them either.
White-knighting for me is different than defending yourself.
--Newt
PS. Technically it is a physical boundary. You do have a door.
Yes Newton, I was a pathetic child in my youth, I'm well aware, thank you. You should know very well I don't tolerate disrespect any longer. After all, I've certainly lectured you enough.
-- Dr. Hermann Gottlieb
PS. I can't very well leave it open for just anyone to walk in.
You're ridiculous. If people want to think we're married, we can let them. Doesn't bother me.
Right, I forgot I was talking to a badass. (And you weren't a pathetic child. You were a nerd and kids shove nerds in lockers because they're threatened by our badass brains. And then we save the world and get all the cheerleaders!)
--Newt
PS. Maybe I'll be over later, then. I'm busy having a very interesting snail-mail conversation with my Best Friend and walking across the hall sounds like too much work. Brb gtg shove this under his door.
I don't recall any cheerleaders. But then, I suppose I'm married now.
In an effort to save us from this post-script ridiculousness, I believe these letters are getting short enough to nearly qualify as text messages by now. I'm also not certain the term 'snail mail' qualifies when the delay is hardly significant.
[Bit of a sigh because really, why is this the conclusion everyone jumps to simply because people argue?
Hermann wanders over to his desk where the little pile of letters has been collecting in the corner in a neat stack. He plucks up Newton's most recent 'note' and waves it for emphasis before adding it to the small pile]
Our names, of course. It would make for a terrible introduction or signature.
[He should offer Newton tea or coffee, but Hermann makes it as far as the sofa before he decides sitting back down is a better option]
[Newt closes the door behind him, because Hermann isn't inviting just anyone in.
Oh. That.]
Well, then we're going to be one of those ridiculous couples that keep their own names, because I'm not going to introduce myself as Newton Gottlieb. We don't need more Dr. Gottliebs in the world, thanks.
[The house barely felt big enough for him and his father, let alone anyone else]
I'll take a cup, thank you.
[Hermann sets to work on flexing his fingers to keep his dominant hand from cramping up. It's the last thing he needs on a day like this and much as he'd enjoyed their exchange, he's somewhat relieved that it's come to a close for now]
[Hermann nods at his back, eyes back on the thumb massaging his palm. It's the one thing he couldn't address through their exchange. Even now, through Newton's gratitude, he feels like it's still not enough.
Just as he's not 'pathetic', he can't help but remember those feelings and the brief hesitance he'd felt placing 'Dr.' before his name on that missive. But at least they can assure each other that they don't believe it]
Did you want to attempt any experiment in particular?
[He briefly caught 'pathetic' through the connection and looked up. He hated Lars, hated those bullies, hated himself for not being more understanding--Hermann was tough, he was brave... Someday they would both silence the bullies in the back of their heads.
Funny. He never thought the positive voice in his head would be Hermann's.]
What are you up for? Because it's been a busy couple of days and we don't have to push for experiments. This isn't the war.
[He poured the water over the teabags, spooned in sugar, and brought the cups out to Hermann.]
But I'm totally game for any thought sharing. What kind of things do they make Jaeger pilots do? Or is it just the Kwoon?
[He frowns after Newton's anger, idly wondering the source while he considers their options. In truth, he doesn't know what else to do with Newton here.
Hermann accepts his tea with a flicker of a smile]
I can't say; neither of us made it past that point. I was exempted from combat training as soon as they ran my numbers.
[That had stung a bit, but was to be expected. He'd only just managed to slip through the first few weeks without drawing attention to himself. If not for their desperation and his brain, he doubts they would've kept him at all]
I know they run a simulation before the pilots enter a Jaeger for the first time, but we can't exactly replicate that.
[It went without saying that psych evals nixed any chance Newt had to be a pilot, not that it had ever been his goal. He had joined specifically for science, for the Kaiju. And maybe a little bit because that was what all the cool scientists were doing. At least the cool one he was penpalling with.
Newt sits and offers a supportive smile.]
We drifted with a MacGyvered Pons. We can definitely slap together our own Drift training program, too.
What about empath stuff? Granted, it's kind of hard to play detect-that-emotion since we'll have to work ourselves up to feeling that emotion. You get the most feedback, I think. What am I doing when you get a ping off me? What do you think I can replicate here?
[He nods, It makes the most sense; Newton's more likely to project emotion than he is. But how can they test anything? He mulls this over and lets the warmth of the teacup seep into his palms]
Nothing unusual.. Though I suspect our thought sharing may be linked to emotion. At least it seems to be the case that picking up concepts is easier when they're emotional responses.
That makes it hard to replicate. It's kind of a gamble, a crap shoot, if we just have to keep rolling our emotional dice until we land on something useful.
[He gives a sly smile and glances sideways at Hermann, half smirk half guilty, the look of a Newt prepared to do something possibly kind of dumb for science.]
How dangerous do you think it would be to intentionally chase a RABIT?
[Hermann knows that look, and he's immediately apprehensive, regarding Newton with a pinched expression]
I don't know, Newton. Our drift is far from ordinary.. We're not likely to drown in memories, but there's still potential to become lost in them, and we lack a device to act as our fail-safe.
But I suppose our unintentional experiment yesterday went well enough.. If one of us can initiate a memory and remain aware enough to draw back to the present, perhaps. I wouldn't trust concurrent memories without something to bring us back, however.
Okay, okay, so we'll do this. I just have think really hard about something emotional, right?
[...while probably avoiding something with Hermann and definitely avoiding something now. Something safe, almost sterile, positive. Free from triggers. A museum trip? School was out. Newt just had to psych himself up for it.]
You gave me a nice one. Wanna put in an order, or want to just see what you get?
[Hermann shrugs, willing to play along with this at least]
I have no preference, just make certain it's something neither of us would be in danger of latching onto.
[And it strikes him again as strange that this is something they can casually do. It's a wonder they don't disrupt each other's daily lives more than they do]
Right. I know. God, I'm not stupid Hermann. I don't want to get caught in that spiral either.
[Deep breath. Newt wiped his palms on his jeans and closed his eyes. Ready, go. Don't fuck up. Think about...dinosaurs. Yeah, that was awesome, when you corrected the tour guide. That's a good one.
He was having trouble focusing on one thought. Newt's thoughts had never been linear or isolated. They existed as strings, nebulas of interrelated ideas and associations. It reminded him of Pong, once you'd broken enough bricks to send the ball up above the wall, to ping around on the other side, rebounding off the bricks and the ceiling of the screen, back and forth along details until it found a hole again to come down...sometimes back on point, back to the paddle. It meant his stories rambled, got lost, maybe meant sense to him only.
As he concentrated on a memory--with his uncle in the museum of natural history, the dinosaurs, diagrams of their evolution, his giddiness--it tugged him on to another thought, another association. Dinosaurs... Sitting in a darkened theater with his dad, the smell of buttered, salted popcorn, the fizz of Coke on his tongue, Milk Duds, his feet not touching the floor, getting folded up in the seat, having to pee. Godzilla at a special outdoor screening, wet grass, rough wool blanket. This wasn't what he wanted to show Hermann, he wanted to be cool, wanted to impress him. Impress Hermann. Tying up a tie, god it looks like crap but hair looks good, too dorky in these glasses, to show the tatts or not, what if he doesn't like me, I want to be cool. Play it cool, don't cry. She's flying to Paris today, but it's my birthday, she promised. Don't cry. Get out from under the bed. I didn't want to go to the opera anyway. I looked good. Dad bought me a new shirt. So grown up. She'll like me better when I'm grown up. No, dad, I don't need a hug; I'm a big kid. I even tied the tie myself. Why doesn't she like me? Did I disappoint her? The bittersweet sounds of Carmen's Habanera.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mathemagier
(no subject)
I stopped talking about the super-powers. I just wanted to know if my level of "impossible" was superhuman, since I get told that a lot. Flatter me. Tell me it is.
You mean that our pluralization will be interpreted as crazy? Let me let you in on a secret here, Hermann, one I'm sure is not a secret to you or will not long be a secret to you if it was before: I am used to being called crazy. You get that a lot, when word gets out that you see a therapist and require drugs to level out your brain chemicals, and when your neuroses are evident in your mannerisms. I can kind of handle that. Can you, though? And don't take this as a challenge. Just don't. It is not a fun way to go through life, especially in dealing with your peers. "Ten years experience..."--you've fought hard for that recognition, but trust me, it goes out the window and means very little when they think you're cuckoo for chocopuffs. It might be easier to let them know.
You're making me preen.
-- Newt Geiszler
PS. Oh, so that's an option.
(no subject)
I have no intention of doing so when you manage that perfectly fine without anyone's assistance.
Nothing quite so extreme as that. I'm referring to the type of relationship it may imply to those unfamiliar with either of us. Certainly, that has already been misinterpreted at least once while we've been here.
We've both fought for recognition, Newton. And we'll get it- in our world if not here.
-- Dr. Hermann Gottlieb
PS. I never stated it wasn't.
(no subject)
Fine then. Rude.
Okay, I'm apparently not following you. You could stand to be less vague.
Exactly. We're rock stars. (It's not just about recognition, though. As long as you know what you're getting into, Hermann.)
-- Newt Geiszler
PS. You never stated it was.
(no subject)
If I must be blunt, I'm sure you remember when Hiro asked if we were married. That sort of misinterpretation.
I'm well aware of how to handle such things, if you'll recall.
-- Dr. Hermann Gottlieb
PS. It figures you would observe the invisible boundaries but not the physical ones. Newton, short of contracting a terminal illness, I'll never forbid you from visiting. Even then, I doubt I'd be able to stop you.
(no subject)
Oh! That! But we got that before the Drift. I mean, I'm pretty such some of the jtech are still convinced we're married, but then again, I'm not entirely sure Tendo ever tried to correct them either.
White-knighting for me is different than defending yourself.
--Newt
PS. Technically it is a physical boundary. You do have a door.
(no subject)
Ridiculous, even so.
Yes Newton, I was a pathetic child in my youth, I'm well aware, thank you. You should know very well I don't tolerate disrespect any longer. After all, I've certainly lectured you enough.
-- Dr. Hermann Gottlieb
PS. I can't very well leave it open for just anyone to walk in.
(no subject)
You're ridiculous. If people want to think we're married, we can let them. Doesn't bother me.
Right, I forgot I was talking to a badass. (And you weren't a pathetic child. You were a nerd and kids shove nerds in lockers because they're threatened by our badass brains. And then we save the world and get all the cheerleaders!)
--Newt
PS. Maybe I'll be over later, then. I'm busy having a very interesting snail-mail conversation with my Best Friend and walking across the hall sounds like too much work. Brb gtg shove this under his door.
(no subject)
I don't recall any cheerleaders. But then, I suppose I'm married now.
In an effort to save us from this post-script ridiculousness, I believe these letters are getting short enough to nearly qualify as text messages by now. I'm also not certain the term 'snail mail' qualifies when the delay is hardly significant.
-- Dr. Hermann Gottlieb
(no subject)
You did better. ROCK STAR! But if you want cheerleaders, I'm sure we can find you cheerleaders for a night. I'd hate for our marriage to get stale.
I could take my time delivering them. Actually, no, too much work. As it is, I'm pretty much sitting in the hall outside your door.
And technically they've always been text messages.
--Newt
action;
Dr. Geiszler-
That is an atrocious combination.
-- Dr. Gottlieb
[It's okay, he'll wait for him to read it. Then shove his door open wider and wave Newton inside]
Before anyone believes I've forced you to sit in the hallway as retribution for some disagreement or another.
action;
Whoa, dude, a little warning next time.
[He frowns at the letter and follows Hermann in, bringing with him the pad of paper and pen he had been writing with.]
Oh, too late. I'm pretty sure everyone who's ever met us is convinced you've put me in the doghouse or on the couch for one reason or another.
And what do you mean 'atrocious combination'?
action;
Hermann wanders over to his desk where the little pile of letters has been collecting in the corner in a neat stack. He plucks up Newton's most recent 'note' and waves it for emphasis before adding it to the small pile]
Our names, of course. It would make for a terrible introduction or signature.
[He should offer Newton tea or coffee, but Hermann makes it as far as the sofa before he decides sitting back down is a better option]
Kitchen is yours if you want it.
action;
Oh. That.]
Well, then we're going to be one of those ridiculous couples that keep their own names, because I'm not going to introduce myself as Newton Gottlieb. We don't need more Dr. Gottliebs in the world, thanks.
[He wandered into the kitchen.]
Going to make some tea, then. Want any?
action;
[The house barely felt big enough for him and his father, let alone anyone else]
I'll take a cup, thank you.
[Hermann sets to work on flexing his fingers to keep his dominant hand from cramping up. It's the last thing he needs on a day like this and much as he'd enjoyed their exchange, he's somewhat relieved that it's come to a close for now]
...You're not insane, Newton.
action;
[He fussed with putting water on to boil and finding them cups, not looking back out at Hermann as he responded.]
Of course not. I-I never said I was.
[Faint surprise. Cautious relief. Gratitude.]
action;
Just as he's not 'pathetic', he can't help but remember those feelings and the brief hesitance he'd felt placing 'Dr.' before his name on that missive. But at least they can assure each other that they don't believe it]
Did you want to attempt any experiment in particular?
action;
Funny. He never thought the positive voice in his head would be Hermann's.]
What are you up for? Because it's been a busy couple of days and we don't have to push for experiments. This isn't the war.
[He poured the water over the teabags, spooned in sugar, and brought the cups out to Hermann.]
But I'm totally game for any thought sharing. What kind of things do they make Jaeger pilots do? Or is it just the Kwoon?
action;
Hermann accepts his tea with a flicker of a smile]
I can't say; neither of us made it past that point. I was exempted from combat training as soon as they ran my numbers.
[That had stung a bit, but was to be expected. He'd only just managed to slip through the first few weeks without drawing attention to himself. If not for their desperation and his brain, he doubts they would've kept him at all]
I know they run a simulation before the pilots enter a Jaeger for the first time, but we can't exactly replicate that.
action;
Newt sits and offers a supportive smile.]
We drifted with a MacGyvered Pons. We can definitely slap together our own Drift training program, too.
What about empath stuff? Granted, it's kind of hard to play detect-that-emotion since we'll have to work ourselves up to feeling that emotion. You get the most feedback, I think. What am I doing when you get a ping off me? What do you think I can replicate here?
action;
Nothing unusual.. Though I suspect our thought sharing may be linked to emotion. At least it seems to be the case that picking up concepts is easier when they're emotional responses.
action;
That makes it hard to replicate. It's kind of a gamble, a crap shoot, if we just have to keep rolling our emotional dice until we land on something useful.
[He gives a sly smile and glances sideways at Hermann, half smirk half guilty, the look of a Newt prepared to do something possibly kind of dumb for science.]
How dangerous do you think it would be to intentionally chase a RABIT?
action;
I don't know, Newton. Our drift is far from ordinary.. We're not likely to drown in memories, but there's still potential to become lost in them, and we lack a device to act as our fail-safe.
But I suppose our unintentional experiment yesterday went well enough.. If one of us can initiate a memory and remain aware enough to draw back to the present, perhaps. I wouldn't trust concurrent memories without something to bring us back, however.
action;
[...while probably avoiding something with Hermann and definitely avoiding something now. Something safe, almost sterile, positive. Free from triggers. A museum trip? School was out. Newt just had to psych himself up for it.]
You gave me a nice one. Wanna put in an order, or want to just see what you get?
action;
I have no preference, just make certain it's something neither of us would be in danger of latching onto.
[And it strikes him again as strange that this is something they can casually do. It's a wonder they don't disrupt each other's daily lives more than they do]
action;
Right. I know. God, I'm not stupid Hermann. I don't want to get caught in that spiral either.
[Deep breath. Newt wiped his palms on his jeans and closed his eyes. Ready, go. Don't fuck up. Think about...dinosaurs. Yeah, that was awesome, when you corrected the tour guide. That's a good one.
He was having trouble focusing on one thought. Newt's thoughts had never been linear or isolated. They existed as strings, nebulas of interrelated ideas and associations. It reminded him of Pong, once you'd broken enough bricks to send the ball up above the wall, to ping around on the other side, rebounding off the bricks and the ceiling of the screen, back and forth along details until it found a hole again to come down...sometimes back on point, back to the paddle. It meant his stories rambled, got lost, maybe meant sense to him only.
As he concentrated on a memory--with his uncle in the museum of natural history, the dinosaurs, diagrams of their evolution, his giddiness--it tugged him on to another thought, another association. Dinosaurs... Sitting in a darkened theater with his dad, the smell of buttered, salted popcorn, the fizz of Coke on his tongue, Milk Duds, his feet not touching the floor, getting folded up in the seat, having to pee. Godzilla at a special outdoor screening, wet grass, rough wool blanket. This wasn't what he wanted to show Hermann, he wanted to be cool, wanted to impress him. Impress Hermann. Tying up a tie, god it looks like crap but hair looks good, too dorky in these glasses, to show the tatts or not, what if he doesn't like me, I want to be cool. Play it cool, don't cry. She's flying to Paris today, but it's my birthday, she promised. Don't cry. Get out from under the bed. I didn't want to go to the opera anyway. I looked good. Dad bought me a new shirt. So grown up. She'll like me better when I'm grown up. No, dad, I don't need a hug; I'm a big kid. I even tied the tie myself. Why doesn't she like me? Did I disappoint her? The bittersweet sounds of Carmen's Habanera.]
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