random loose threads

[driftsintobuffetline]

Some content may not be suitable for underage readers.

2016
January 29 - Returning from Submarining
February 13 - What are you thoughts on MARRIAGE?
February 16 - Day 1, Soviet Occupied Import Cities
March 12 - They were supposed to talk about Miles and Greg, but talked about themselves instead
April 14th - Kinks, Tatts, and Power Suppression
June - Admiring the Ring
July 27 - Hermann's New Car
After the Kaiju Test - Need a New Apartment

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January 29, 2016

[driftsintobuffetline]

After Newt returns from war the submarine kidnapping.

Peace would be nice. I was getting kind of fond of peace.

[Newt stops just outside the doors of Starktech and looks up at the sky, out at the landscaping, at the cars and the birds and the city and the bustle of life. He had started to take it for granted again--peace, life, the world untarnished by Kaiju. Nine days with just a cell and other captives is a good reminder of how quickly life-as-you-know-it can disappear. He remembers vividly, holding Hermann after Mako vanished, the terrible, horrible feeling of 'at least they didn't take Hermann from me' and the realization that Hermann is life-as-Newt-knows-it.]

Come on, Herm. Let's go home.

[mathemagier]

Yes, alright.

[Home. No longer a silent apartment and an empty bed. It's the warmth of that statement and the returning hope that makes him wish he had a free hand to join with Newton's. Together in everything as they should be.

He considers attempting to send the laptop home, but as he expected, they don't have ten minutes. The cab pulls up in but a few and Hermann stands back to wait for Newton to open it as it's become customary. He could manage of course, but he'll hardly dissuade the man from thoughtful gestures.

The laptop goes on the seat, his cane propped just inside the door, and he can finally offer a hand to Newton once they're both settled in. Hermann instructs the driver to the apartments and leaning back, lets the tension drain from his body. It's an almost unbelievable relief just to have a solid, physical connection to Newton again.]

I am never going to let that happen again.

[driftsintobuffetline]

[ His hand firmly in Hermann's hold now, he thinks of how many times they've sat together in the back of a taxi since they've arrived in this world, how many arguments and companionable conversations, kisses and tears and shouting... but this is the first reunion. And hopefully only, Newt thinks, though there is one glaring issue to that wish. Instead, he will just hope every parting ends in another reunion because this is infinitely better than the alternative.

He almost asks 'what?' to be contrary or out of habit or what exactly, he's not sure. But he doesn't have to ask what. He's pretty sure he knows. There's so much conviction in that voice, laced with so much underlying pain, but Newt can't help arguing.]

That's all well and good, Hermann, but we didn't have a choice.

Feb 13 2016

[driftsintobuffetline]

Newt kicked the door closed, tossed his jacket down on the arm of the sofa and then followed it with the shopping bags (more jeans, shut up, Hermann) onto the seat.

"Wow, dude," he blabbered on at Hermann as Newt moved around the living room, kicked a cat toy out of the way and watched Liebling chase it until it stopped and she decided it held no further entertainment for her. "So, okay, sorry I'm late, but you would not believe the lines. I swear, the mall was like Christmas season again, holy shit. But I got a really good sale on the razor--like you'd even approve--and the jeans weren't so bad either, so it was worth it, but man. Glad I had no reason to go near the Bath-and-whatever store or Victoria's Secret, because those looked like nightmares." He had wandered to the kitchen and returned with a glass of juice. "And the jewelry stores! Shit. You'd think everybody in De Chima was proposing tomorrow."

Newt let the phrase hang there in the silence of his pause for a moment, knowing he was probably approaching this very heavy-handedly, but while very creative, he often knew of no other way to tackle things except head-on and with little finesse... even if that really amounted to sticking his whole hand in a boiling pot of water to test the temperature.

He took a sip, then went on. "I always thought if I got married, I'd probably do something dumb and rockstarish like go to Vegas. What about you?" he asked as he hunted down a coaster before Hermann killed him for using a magazine like an uncultured swine, or--heaven forbid--used no coaster at all. "You ever thought about it?"

[mathemagier]

Admittedly the crowds were most of the reason Hermann didn't go along with Newton. That and it was good to reaffirm that they didn't always need to go everywhere together even in the wake of Newton's recent kidnapping. But he dealt with that quiet fear by working on one of his many pet projects.

Hermann made sympathetic noises throughout Newton's explanation and barely looked away from his screen until the phrase 'I got married' successfully brought all of his thought processes to a screeching halt. Rewind.

If. He said if. With heavy emphasis.

Hermann closed his laptop and set it down, leaned back and peered at the lenses of his glasses. Somewhere between Newton coming through the door and returning from the kitchen, the conversational tone had changed.

"What- married on the whim of inebriation? Certainly not."

Feb 16th- early evening

[mathemagier]

Getting home taxes Hermann of most of the energy he'd saved up during the Seminar's final hours. But he's bolstered by the drift, blooming back to life as soon as they're away from the resort proper. Newton's concern and frenetic energy is as palpable as he'd expected it would be, but it's there and buzzing with the intimacy and familiarity he'd missed.

His secondary brain.

Hermann's strength holds on a thread of paranoia, wary of being followed, worried about what collapsing in the middle of the street could mean for either of them, what might happen to them if they're caught..

He immediately sags against the door the moment they're through the apartment door. Would have slid to the floor without a second thought if Newton didn't tug him through to the couch. He's in desperate need of real sleep, but there's too much to worry about, too much they need to sort out before that can be a possibility.

They need to leave, but to where? Will he have enough energy to port them both before 10am tomorrow morning? What time does he need to be asleep by to accomplish that? Not to mention eating. He's going to need to force something down. Preferably nothing that will unduly upset his stomach.

"..Do we have any soup?"

[driftsintobuffetline]

Newt nods, his nose buried against Hermann's neck and collar as he sits against him where they both collapsed into the couch. Having Hermann back in his head is rather like regrowing a severed limb, though the comfort of having his Drift Partner's mind is warmer and deeper than any appreciation Newt had for his regrown hand. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Yeah, just a sec." Let me hold you a little longer.

Finally, Newt extracts himself from the embrace and makes sure the door is properly locked--not because he's afraid of being followed, but he just needs that assurance, that privacy and sanctity...this is his and Hermann's space and though the Russians can diminish their Drift, can pull them from across the US into the seminar, they cannot have this space--and then disappears to the kitchen.

He comes back shortly with some heated soup: a chicken noodle with some vegetables thrown in to make it more hearty. He presents Hermann with the over-sized mug and a spoon, so he can choose how to eat or drink it, depending on what he's feeling the energy for at the moment. With a soft kiss to Hermann's cheek, he returns to the kitchen and retrieves for himself the leftovers of lunch (his? Hermann's? Newt couldn't remember), some pasta from the other day.

Settling on the sofa again, Newt rests his hand on Hermann's knee and enjoys the mental reverberations of the gesture echoing back at him through the drift, even though it comes tinged with paranoia and worry.

"Well, day one wasn't so bad." His pained expression says he doesn't believe his own lie.

March 12, 2016 - following the talk with Miles and Greg

[driftsintobuffetline]

He terminated the call.. It was too personal, too intimate to stay. He would have wanted the same if he were Miles...

So that was...

Miles was in love with Gregor. Belatedly, he realized, that was what Newt had been right about, though at the time he had forgotten they were functioning under the impression that he was even wrong. But Miles and Gregor's relationship was deeper and more intimate than Newt had guessed, and even if Gregor was not in love with Miles, he did love him, clearly, a lot more than Newt thought the quiet, reserved man was capable of. They were Drift Partners, he had known, but now he could see the Partnership between the Drifters. It changed how he perceived their previous interactions, how he understood that spy plot, why, perhaps, Miles was not included.

Most of Newt's initial impressions of closed-off Gregor could now be chalked up to his aristocratic background, and a quiet and subdued personality that was the kind Newt had never found very accessible to him. He had failed to understand Gregor as he had failed to understand Hermann.

That should not have been his takeaway, these feelings, not when there were royal bloodlines and not!clones (he needed to tell Hermann) and something with Lucifer to consider, but it was.

He was a poor empathizer, but here he was stewing in empathy for Miles, for his unrequited love for his friend (the emperor, in some sort of god-awful societal drama and clash of duty and expectation that was probably worthy of a painfully restrained classic British or laborious Russian novel), as Hermann opened the door. Newt leapt up the help relieve him of some bags.

"You should have called. I would have come down to the lobby to help you."

[mathemagier]

"Newton, I-" Hermann sighed, forced to relinquish a few bags in order to properly close and lock the door. He tugged his parka off, shaking his head as he hung it up on their coat rack. "If I'd needed help, I would have asked for it."

Words that wouldn't have been true a year ago, but were now- at least as far as Newton was concerned.

Hermann snatched the remaining bags before Newton could double back for them, and hauled them up onto a counter in the kitchen with the rest. He rifled through them until he managed to unearth a brightly colored package of mice. As though summoned, Liebling appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Yes, I didn't forget you, darling."

Hermann fussed with the packaging a moment, then wiggled a mouse free and tossed it over her head and into the living room. She disappeared in a flash of an orange tail. He smiled after her, then set the package on the countertop and turned back to Newton.

"Now, are you quite alright?"

April 14th, evening

[mathemagier]

[When they return home, it's with much more than they'd left with. It's really a good thing they have excellent jobs, or Hermann might have had reason to lecture Newton about his frivolous spending. As it stands, he can only disapprove of the purchases by virtue of subject material. But it will all likely go into Newton's room and with any amount of fortune, it might spontaneously disintegrate into non-existence.

They have a nice quiet dinner and clean up, and it's not quite time for bed yet, so they retire to the couch and Hermann fiddles with his laptop while Newton flips through channels. But he's not focused- neither of them are, as is the way of things- and he finally gives in and sets his distraction aside.]

There was a matter you were interested in discussing?

[He should probably be less nervous about this, but finds he's unable to discern the source of those nerves]

[driftsintobuffetline]

[And now that he has the opportunity to discuss it (with an opening from Hermann, no less), Newt can't decide how to start, can't decide if he really wants to discuss it despite thinking it is really kind of...well, if not important, than at least something that couples do?]

Oh. Yeah, uh. [He turns off the TV and draws his legs up onto the sofa so he can turn and face Hermann.] It wasn't really about the caning thing, I mean, I GET why fangirls turned that into a thing for Geiszlieb--I also get that it could border on fetishizing something that shouldn't be--but it was really just that that's what got me thinking that we just kind of...

Well, we rely on knowing each other. Or letting the Drift fill in. I know what your taste in music is, how you take your coffee, I know what your dreams and aspirations are, who you are, and we just...don't really talk about the things we don't know? You know? Is this making sense or have I tangented too far and lost you here?

June 2016. IDK exactly

[driftsintobuffetline]

All the lights were off in the apartment, curtains drawn shut to ward off the city lights.

Newt turned on the stars first, in the living-room, letting Hermann's gift from Christmas spread up the chalkboard walls with pinpricks of light. Some brighter than others, some in clusters like nebula and galaxies. As he moved around the room, space reflected onto his tee-shirt, his freckled face and tattooed skin, and shined in his glasses.

He took a sip of the dark wine--Xavier's visiting gift also caught the starlight--and flipped the lightswitch in the hallway.

Changing the bulb had been worth the hassle. Their scribbles on the wall glowed under the black light... Cute little illustrations of Liebling nomming on a Kaiju and notes about theories, math, recipes... But the real star of the evening was the almost magical glow on Newt's left hand. The blue stones were the EXACT shade of Kaiju Blue he had studied for years, bright and luminescent, the color of a Kaiju preparing an attack, a Kaiju as a Jaeger's blade slices into it, their beauty and their threat. The inlaid diamonds also faintly glowed with a surprising blue hue and Newt turned his hand over, admiring the sparkle this way and that, raised his hand towards the light on the ceiling, a smile of wonder in his eyes.

The ring was so much better than perfect.

[mathemagier]

Stars lit up the living room in the dark, and while the projection was something he wouldn't tire of for hours, his main focus was the man walking toward the hallway, and the narrow dark light that came on above him.

Newton's wonder was worth the sum he'd paid for the stone and materials multiple times over. The stone glowed an ominous blue, but it was beautiful in his partner's hands. On his hand- his ring finger specifically.

Hermann cast about for Liebling before shifting his cane forward, and came up to loosely embrace Newton's back. The Drift was so saturated with awe, love, and fondness to he felt ready to burst with it. Just days ago, this man had agreed to marry him and it still floored him to think about- likely would for some time.

"I looked at many diamonds. Blue diamonds as well, but it seems that most often is the case that the fluorescence is brighter with a lower quality stone, and finding both a clear stone with high luminescence was incredibly unlikely. For all I could have searched for one, the effect was altogether dull in comparison."

Hermann kissed the side of his head, resting his arm over Newton's stomach.

"I'm glad you like it."

July 27th, 2016

[mathemagier]

When Newton suggested a date, Hermann was suddenly aware he had a fair bit of work to do. Work that would take him out of Newton's immediate visual range for several hours. That alone was almost enough to ask to reschedule, or even just go along and schedule another date for a week later, but on the other hand, he really wanted to surprise his 'date'.

So he took his phone and texted an entire conversation with Newton while he worked, reassuring him he'd 'be home' in time for them to go out again.

Though he barely made it, it was still with a wild joy that he pulled up in front of their apartment complex with two minutes to spare. In his own custom sports car, all sleek edges and low-riding suspension, colored a deep maroon.

And wheels.

The whole of it positively screamed IMPORT DRIVER but it was just so beautiful that Hermann could hardly bring himself to care. Oh, he'd missed the feel of the road and the sheer freedom that came with owning a vehicle. He stepped out and circled around to the curb, ghosting his fingers over the glossy painted finish of the spoiler, and placed a call to Newton.

"Yes, you should come down now. Our ride is here."

He hoped all his excitement hadn't already ruined the surprise.

[driftsintobuffetline]

Hermann's excitement was so palpable, Newt wasn't even sure what to make of it. A date was exciting, and it was nice to be welcomed back, but he really didn't think his absence of 5 days was enough to warrant this weird, giddy, beautiful vibe Hermann was giving off.

It made Newt antsy to be away from him for the time it took for Hermann to arrange whatever it was he was working on--FOREVER--it must have been big and important, because it was Hermann who was most worried about being separated. Our ride is here sounded promising. Newt took the stairs, straightened himself at the bottom of the flight, and met him outside the apartment complex.

"Holy--!" He came around the car, eyeing it in awe, running gentle fingers just over the top of one edge, then with a huff of condensation from his breath, buffed out the finger prints left with the soft fabric of his tie. Newt crouched and examined the under-carriage, admired the curves and angles of the body, circled around the car and then peered in at the interior behind the semi tinted windows. "Sweet."

Hermann had outdone himself. She was absolutely gorgeous, like a newly commissioned Jaeger, back when they were rolling out of the assembly with sleek bodies, new paint, and actual funding. Stunning. The Bond car that was Hermann, deep down inside.

He came to a stop on the opposite side of the car from Hermann and grinned at him over the top of the hood. Newt didn't really fancy himself a car buff--and maybe this was a bit of Hermann's personality and interest rubbing off on him--but the car was hot.

"I am having some really inappropriate thoughts right now. Just thought you should know."

Sometime after the Kaiju test

[driftsintobuffetline]

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think we've outgrown this apartment."

Newt had been browsing beds and other furniture (and feeling very grown up...his apartment while teaching had been mostly Craig's List, handmedowns, and ikea) online and, despite their current two bedrooms and an apartment worth of space, sparse furniture, and far more square footage than either had in the shatterdome, lately Newt had been feeling like the space was just too cramped.

"Is this because I'm pushing 40? Is this what people do then? Expand their living spaces? Is this, like, nesting and pre-midlife crisis? Because I was never a house kind of guy. Never." He huffed and threw himself down on the sofa. "We should get another cat. And a big back yard. I want a yard--I don't know what I'd do with it, but I want it. ...that's weird, right?"

[mathemagier]

Hermann looked up from his laptop, peering at Newton from over the rims of his glasses. He smiled a bit, then finished saving his progress.

"In all fairness, we've been at war for twelve years. At some point amidst all the uncertainty, I began to desire predictable things. Waking up every morning, not having to worry about an attack.. spend days only concerned with mundane things. Perhaps I'm only 'cramping your style' now that you've more or less agreed to spend your life with me."

He closed his laptop and removed his glasses, easing his legs down from the coffee table. "But really, I think the apartment affords us plenty of space. I must admit a yard does sound nice, however. I could set up my telescope and you could try your hand at grilling on occasion perhaps.."

late Nov?

[mathemagier]

The world had shifted.

Never before had Hermann ever considered himself any sort of criminal- and still didn't really- but nor had he ever considered associating closely with known criminals. The offer had shaken him a bit- not because it had happened, but because he was actually starting to think it sounded like a halfway decent idea. Worse, it wasn't even Newton's influence.

The Drift was muddled with conflicting thoughts, emotions, worries, and confusion. Raina would want an answer before too long however, so it was time to talk about it. And with Sophie hanging out with a friend for the afternoon, there was no better time.

Hermann took a seat next to Newton on the couch, waiting until the next commercial break to mute the television.

"Newton.. we need to make a decision."

[driftsintobuffetline]

Newt reached for the remote automatically, to take it back, ready to turn the sound back on, attributing Hermann's nerves to a number of other things.

"I'm telling you, man: Kang has like, zero interest in being best man. But if Qubit doesn't come back, we can make him and Miles flip a coin."

January 8th, 2017

[mathemagier]

For as many times as he'd seen the Golden Gate on a televised recording of Trespasser's initial emergence, the actual bridge itself was a wonder. Tall red gates and an elegance that was hard to appreciate under the massive bulk of the kaiju as it was torn apart on endless loop.

But it was also colder than he anticipated, as Hermann pulled his awful scarf tighter around his face and made sure his parka was fully zipped and buttoned.

The bridge stretched across the bay, intimidating. The thought of walking on it almost felt like testing fate. No such thing of course, people would drive across for years- their mere presence wasn't going to suddenly summon up a kaiju from the deep. Probably.

And even if it did, he had a challenger of sorts.

But it didn't do to dwell on such things. This was supposed to be something of a romantic venture. Their most important anniversary.

Hermann pulled his glove back on and took Newton's hand. He felt brave standing there, staring down the monument of the war's start. They were going to cross this bridge together, much as they had done most everything else.

"Well I hope there are a few benches along the way, or they might have to deal with a bit of oddly warped paving."

[driftsintobuffetline]

"Hermann," he scolded lightly, patting his husband's arm playfully-patronizingly as they started along the designated pedestrian section of the famous bridge. "Be nice and put things back the way you found them."

Newt had been to San Francisco only briefly before--once for a conference Pre-Kaiju days, and once in a radiation suit, just outside the uninhabitable zone, to test soil samples in his early PPDC days. He had never had the chance to stand on the bridge that had been destroyed more times than he could count in his replayings of the Trespasser videos.

There were bicyclists out, as well as a few tourists along the route, but there were few enough people and the path was wide enough that Hermann wasn't in danger of being run into as they walked.

"To think, this is where it all started."

Valentine's 2017

[driftsintobuffetline]

The little German restaurant that had been the site of their first date still looked as ridiculously cliche as it had over a year ago. Newt grinned and held the door for his husband, swinging the small red and pink giftbag in his hand anxiously as he waited.

Their first Valentine's since marriage. It was a stupid holiday but he was going to take advantage of it anyway. That's why he'd had these reservations for a month.

He wolf whistled as Hermann passed him to go through the doorway and blatantly checked out his backside.

"Marriage does have its perks," he grinned and wiggled his brows. "...Dr. Gottlieb-Geiszler, I'd like you to know that your ass looks pretty damn irresistible in those pants. Not that I can resist it normally anyway." he casually lapsed into German. "But just so you know."

[mathemagier]

Hermann's ears burned as he shuffled through the door, clutching a little wrapped box to his chest like he might suddenly drop it.

"I appreciate your interest, but if you don't mind, I'm almost certain the staff have taken it upon themselves to learn a bit of German since we started coming here."

Turning back to one such individual, he stuttered out their names a touch unnecessarily. They were a bit too memorable here. But as Hermann settled at 'their' table, he could admit it was nice to have a regular table and drink orders. It made everything a bit more expedient.

He regarded Newton's gift bag with the same suspicion he had when he'd first gotten in the car with it.

"Suppose we should order first when our drinks arrive."

Mid March 2017 - NSFW

[driftsintobuffetline]

[Continuing this]

It took Newt longer than anticipated to find a pair of leather pants that fit and that fit his specifications because he was continually forgetting this world didn't have quite the selection of punk and rock clothes he was used to back home, but pretty soon, he was dressed in a hot pair of leather pants, a sharp new pair of boots, and a nice fitted white tee shirt. It was casually rocker, and he debated finding himself a button up he could leave wide open, but ...alright, he as tiny bit self conscious about his midsection and the hint of middle-age stomach he was developing (had been developing, if he was honest with himself) and the tee-shirt look was probably better. More tough!sexy, less strung-out-rocker!sexy.

He texted Hermann en route to the grocery store. There, he'd checked out the makeup aisle (eyeliner, a must--and some extra product for his hair so he showed up in character instead of having to duck in the bathroom first thing when he got home) and picked up a few sweet sticky treats.

By the time he walked into their new house--still in the process of being set up properly--Newt was FEELING it. The Drift was abuzz with Hermann's desire and his own, a livewire of libidos feeding into each other, and as he strutted into the livingroom, new boots clicking on the entryway tile and sunglasses still in place, he used his phone to queue up a rock playlist taken from imPort's music collections.

In its state of moved-in incompleteness--the house looked like the kind of fancy pad a man normally on the road might've just returned to. For a brief sobering moment, he thought about it as a life he once wanted, a life that no longer seriously appealed to him. But with Hermann, it was a life he could enjoy in all its fantasy glory.

[mathemagier]

Clothes on, Hermann sat gingerly in the armchair they'd hauled in today alongside a few orders of books. He'd gone through the trouble of locating and summoning a plug from home, and the feel of it at certain angles was maddening.

Lurching to his feet the moment Newton walked through the door, Hermann worked to channel what he imagined was the sort of excited nervousness a band groupie might have.

"N-Newton Geiszler. It really is you after all." He made a show of searching himself with his free hand. "And of course I don't have anything for you to sign.."