Newton "Newt" Geiszler (
driftsintobuffetline) wrote2035-01-01 12:26 pm
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Sept 26th, audio;
Newton, I'm going to preface this by saying this wasn't intentional and I will return as soon as possible.
[He's trying very hard not to be cold]
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Garmisch, Germany.
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I was considering a request to travel here sometime. ..But it seems my teleportation ability isn't quite as complex as we'd thought. Or rather, there is a simpler application for it. I can say with some certainty it's more exhausting, and I suspect it may be why I can't return immediately.
[Of course right now, he's sitting on the cold ground and wondering if it's possible he could summon his cane, because he's not getting far without it]
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His tone is getting hysterical and the words just come pouring out.]
Oh god, I mean this is great! Your teleporation isn't as complicated to initiate as you presumed and the applications for that are-- [Deep inhale.] but, holy--
[Awed, almost.] Germany Shit dude. I mean-- [The gravity of the situation settles in again.] Shit! What are we going to do?! It's not like I can phone up uber and come and get you and--
Are you okay? You're okay, right? Where are you? Are there people? Are you safe--just as importantly, do you feel safe? What time is it there-- 4ish? Is it dark? What do you have with you--What are you wearing? Wow, okay seriously, never thought I'd be in a position to ask Hermann Gottlieb what he was wearing over the phone like some sort of weird twist on a booty call or phone sex or...--are you okay?
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[To most of that, but especially the applications part]
It's not dark yet. I'm dressed, if that's what you were getting at. [That is absolutely a scowl you hear, Newton] Unfortunately, I'm lacking in a few key things, as I'd 'left' rather abruptly.
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Oh my god.
[A soft thump. Silence. The phone's been set down.
When he comes back, he doesn't sound any better; if anything, he sounds shakier.]
Ok. Hi. Just.
Just needed a minute.
How are you?
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The lecture he'd been silently constructing in his mind flees in the face of Newton's unsteadiness]
Cold. [A shame to his heritage, but true] I can try to get to Munich and book a flight back.
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No. No, that's a shitty idea. I mean, keep that in your back pocket but--
Something immediate. I. [He sucks in a breath.] I don't know if it's the distance or what, but. I feel sick. This--This sucks, man. What do you think your refractory period is on teleportation--Recharge rate. Whatever. How long-- noyouknowwhat--nevermind--do you think Qubit's awake? We're--I'm waking up Qubit--
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Did Newton walk away to get sick? That's definitely concerning. He doesn't feel nauseous yet, but.. Refractory period. Not even going to dignify that with an answer, though it is a fair question]
Newton, we've bothered that man enough.
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You know what, fuck you, I'm not ASKING you, I'm TELLING you. I am CALLING Qubit and you aren't here to stop me. If you want to stop me, get your ass OVER here and make me, okay? There! Incentive enough for you?
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I'm certain it doesn't work that way. But very well, I'll text you my coordinates.
[He really doesn't have any other quick solutions. Estimates at least six hours of rest would be necessary before he might be able to teleport back. But if Qubit can't get to them, they'll work through those hours]
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[Quickly added!] Or if I hang up? Call me back [Please]. Just, uh, tell me what you want me to bring.
I swear, I'm going to kill you when I get there.
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[But he sighs as a steady beep informs him he's on hold, and decides to wait until he hears back from Newton before attempting to replicate his cane with a tree branch. Which is unfortunate, because he'd really like to find the nearest public building and warm up.
Hermann suspects he wouldn't get far in the endeavor though, as an undercurrent of panic wells up in his chest and threatens to overwhelm him. He's suddenly acutely paranoid and his fingers can't seem to stop twisting into grass or curling into themselves. He breathes, willing himself not to feel sick, and knows this must be much worse for Newton.
He occupies himself for a few moments with the self-appointed task of sending a text]
47.496873, 11.075778. Bring my cane and the thickest jacket in my closet. One for yourself as well.
[And now he could only wait and silently pray Qubit wouldn't mind doing this one more thing for them, because six hours is suddenly a very long time]
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Qubit's here.
After the flurry of texts to Qubit
I swear to god if you're having some physicists-only party, I will deck you, Hermann. Not cool.
Ps Your coat is really warm.