“No, just the Doctor,” the response was automatic, and he barely even registered that he’d even said it. No, the Doctor’s mind was preoccupied now by the lab’s contents beyond its eccentric occupant ant the shattered glass. In particular, he eyed the specimen being dissected on the table.
“What? Oh, that. It’s, um.”
He waved a hand through the air, sharp but unmeasured. The Doctor was more concerned with mentally dissecting the remains himself than he was with answering the man’s question about his TARDIS. It was clearly alien — or at least PART of one — with its semi-translucent, grey-blue skin. But beyond that it was hard to discern. It might have been part of a leg, but then — no, probably not. He would have guessed a scaled, based on the shape, but the strong sinews of muscle didn’t match up with that theory.
“It’s science,” he finished after a long interval, realising he’d never completed his thought. “Advanced science. Vey complicated. Trying to explain it would be like trying to explain how a dominoes line set up to portray Van Gogh’s Starry Night could end up showing a piece by Picasso instead.”
“Right, it’s teleportation. You could have just said teleportation. Much easier, less words. Less really ridiculous analogies.” How he managed such a feat was beyond him. No one on Earth had done it, yet. He’d studied theoretical physics and knew the intricate workings of such an idea and Newt was going to be the first. At least, that seemed to be the case… Until now… Unless… “And don’t worry, that’s just dead Kaiju.” Unless he wasn’t from these parts (read: planet/universe) and wouldn’t know a damned thing about Kaiju. (Everyone knew about Kaiju after all.)
The man (?) seemed to have a knack for talking just as much as him. That meant either one of two things: either they were going to get along really well, or be at constant loggerheads. “So, the Doctor huh? What kind of name is that? That’s a title. Not a name.” Maybe his name was Bob or something equally ridiculous like Hermann, and he didn’t want the world to know.
Quirks was obvious on the bow-tied man, and it wasn’t just he’s dress sense or words, but rather the way he held himself, much like Newt himself did. There was this tell that all weird science types had. Reluctantly, Newt had to admit that Hermann also possessed such a quirk.
He picked the broom and dustpan out of the cupboard and begin sweeping up the mess the stranger had made. Wouldn’t want someone to cut themselves on the broken glass after all.
“Guess, I’ll uh, see you later?” He asked, holding out his hand for a handshake.
“What? You’re not going back to the Shatterdome?” He questioned Raleigh, hand taking the other’s hand anyway. Before gesturing with said hand, with Raleigh’s own attached, to the vague area that the Shatterdome was at.
His eyes spare a final glance to the work sprawled out on the desk before he enters, but it’s a matter of having it vanish when he’s joined by his visitor ––––––— ever private in nature, and willing to disclose nothing to the unsuspecting employee. The extending of a hand to the scientist as he enters is almost choreographed; moves well practiced from his time with the investors already spent.
”Yeah, I… Thought you had a bit of a special job, up in here. I’ve seen your work; thought you might want to explain it to me. Get me caught up.”
Accepting the hand of the Obsorn, he gave it two shakes before letting his boss have his hand back. His eyebrow quirked up at the words spoken and Newt’s reluctance was edged on his face. He’d probably cost the company more money than was actually helpful. Blowing stuff up tended to blow company’s profit into smithereens too. Still, what the boss wanted the boss got.
Of course, the second he started, fear vapourised and transformed itself into wonder for his own work. “Well, the power grids are really one of a kind, and fantastic. But what happened if it suddenly just went BOOM, and that would cause all kinds of problems: planes crashing into each other, car accidents and if you were a surgeon and suddenly the lights went out and the backup generator didn’t work, you could accidentally kill someone. No one wants that.”
Newt took a deep breath, realising that he had rambled without even getting to the point. “So then I thought, plants! Plants that could produce their own light and be a light source on the streets in buildings and in parks and everywhere. It would add greenery in addition to generating light, and possibly other forms of electricity. Of course, the tests weren’t exactly successful, if you’ve read the damage reports, I might have blown a hole in the lab once or twice… But I think I’ve made a breakthrough with this one species, it seems promising, and hasn’t exploded yet, so… Yeah. That’s about it.”
Somewhat oblivious to the inner monologue of her companion’s mind; Ada, unabashed by the various oozing liquids from the corpse, leans closer to the mechanical arm. There’s a skin connecting the two, an epidermis stronger then the eye could tell but not enough to withstand a stainless steel scalpel. She doesn’t reach for one however, thoughts to preoccupied by connecting directly to the neuro-technological processes of the arm; causing it to flex and detach itself manually without intervention. Looking up, understanding that her once deep brown irises would be laden with flashing code, she shoots the man a small successful smile.
“Show off.” He muttered with humour. Newt was, in truth, in complete awe. Ada seemed to have an excellent grasp of her powers. SHIELD probably knew that as well. There was just something so fascinating about the whole issue, that Newt completely abandoned his work on alien. Ada had already removed the mechanical parts from the arm anyway. “So when did you first know you could do that? If you don’t mind me asking.” Even as his mind wasn’t on the Skrull anymore, his hands still worked on their own synchronised accord, almost like muscle memory, and removed the wires and electrical components and placed them on the table beside the body.
Raleigh soon realizes that he couldn’t get through to Newt; and although worries pile themselves on the tip of his tongue, he decides to let the topic drop. Instead, he leans heavily against the cement wall, crossing his arms with ease. When Newt blends together the Kaiju pieces, he looks away — he really didn’t need any more nightmare pieces necessary in his head. He’d been blessed and cursed with creativity, it seemed.
”———that’s disgusting,” Raleigh comments, shaking his head; seriously, who thought that Kaiju pieces were a delicacy. Raleigh’d looked at people ( with sheer confusion ) who enjoyed snails as a delicacy, but Kaiju? That was a bit too much. He gives a slight shudder, glancing at the multicolored mixture with both revulsion and distaste. The cup — labeled ‘not for drinking’, — was a nice touch. Very fitting.
Newt starts to act a little weird; he gives a slight sway, and Raleigh’s inner alarm starts to reverberate inside of his head. “Hey, he starts, brows furrowed; he agrees to look at the slide with a nod of his head, but his focus is on something else entirely. When Newt drops, Raleigh’s at his side in a second, arms flexing to catch the dropping scientist with surprisingly quick reflexes.
”———sh—,” he can’t even finish his sentence; instead of wasting any more time, he just bends down to get a little bit of leverage, lifting him up and over his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he shoulders his way through the door and half-runs, half-limps to the medical.
He came to, jolting awake in a white bed, eyes unfocused on white walls, illuminated by a dim light. Wha — What happened? Where was he? Right, white walls and bed. Probably medical. Somehow even in a base like this the medical department had to look like a hospital. Newt figured it probably had to do with giving patients a sense of recognition or something of the sort. He’d attended a course in Psychology during his years at MIT because he had some free time to kill and it’d been surprisingly useful.
Newt blinked, turning to find his spectacles, before his eyes landed on Raleigh. Raleigh who was asleep in the chair beside him. Frowning, he remembered the events that had occurred. He can’t believe he fainted in front of Raleigh. Had the Ranger carried him to medical? ”Jesus —" He exclaimed and flushed in embarrassment. He’d have to thank Raleigh for that though. Shit — Did he wake Raleigh up with that noise? Newt hoped not.
He turned to the bedside table, finding his glasses there. Putting them on the bridge of his nose, he’d moved to pull the blanket off himself. His experiments were still running! Newt had to stop them, or be there to track the results in person. In fact, if it had been whole hours the blended Kaiju wouldn’t be that well off. Sure he had added ammonia to increase the shelf life of it but he didn’t account for himself fainting.
Hauling his legs to the side of the bed that was not next to Raleigh, he attempted to pushing himself out of bed when he slipped, and knocked over the plastic cup of water that had been on the table. Crap. Newt hadn’t realised that he was that dizzy. Maybe Raleigh had been right. Speaking of — he was certain that if his first actions hadn’t woke Raleigh up then his latest stunt would.
Raleigh places a hand over his forehead to shield the rain out of his eyes, leaning forward and giving a small kiss to Newt’s cheek, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ as he pulls away.
“Wha — What was that for?” Newt asks after a period of seconds, blushing. He pulls his glasses off his face in an attempt to clean the water off the lens with the tip of his sleeves.
There was a grin hinged on her lips as she moved to get a better view of his work, a gentle laugh rolling off her tongue at his dramatic gestures, and perhaps a bit at the idea of plants blowing up like small bombs.
“I should certainly hope not—that’s what testing is for. —What are the perimeters? Have you reached any breakthroughs yet?”
"Shush!” Newt joked. “Flattery will get you no where, Miss Stacy.”
“Well, there’s this one plant with a lower intensity light, but seems to be pretty stable for now.” Newt led her to a smaller room, that was essentially build like an explosion test chamber in case the plant blew up. “You can’t really see it unless we’re in total darkness.” He turned off all the lights, before his eyes focused to the only light source in the room. “I think it has to do with the species of plant, Pteridophyta seems to be the only one that hasn’t spontaneously combust yet. I’m placing my bets on ferns though.” There was something about the spores that seemed to be able to accept the gene therapy and the wires.
He’s heard of him; that’s never a good thing, when the business keeps itself largely quiet. Nothing too revolutionary –––– not until the company’d settled into the rhythm of new leadership, and the public had taken to a new face.
Newt Geiszler.
Harry laces his fingers in his lap.
“Let him in, Felicia."
He’d heard that Harry Obsorn had taken over the company now that his father had died. It was certainly — he wouldn’t say tragic — but it seemed to be the most apt. Newt never knew the man he had worked for anyway, but when he’d died there was big news about it and a company wide announcement. This was then followed by Harry’s ascend to power in the company. What Newt wasn’t expecting was to get called up to see his boss. He’d fidgeted all the way up the lift and then at the waiting area, unsure of what Mr. Obsorn wanted from him. Hesitantly, he stepped into the grand office, and inquired, "Erm… Mr. Obsorn? You were looking for me?”
