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31_days2014-03-22 07:50 pm
[March 21] [Pacific Rim] Immiscible
Title:Immiscible
Day/Theme: 22. I'll overflow; who cares how I look
Series: Pacific Rim
Character/Pairing: Hermann Gottlieb/Newt Geiszler . Mostly Newt.
Rating: Some language.
This thing was too much. Too much and nowhere near enough and he was just vibrating with it. God, the possibilities. So many variables and outcomes and he couldn’t talk fast enough to explain it all. Luckily, it didn’t matter because he could think plenty fast enough and if people couldn’t keep up, well they were just lucky to have him there to lead the way.
His glasses started to slip down his nose and he shoved them back with the back of his arm. It left a streak of something oily on his cheek and he waited a second, two, three, and it didn't sting or burn or change color so he dove back into dissecting the latest kaiju sample. It was amazing, absolutely incredible and no one cared, so he was going to make them care if it killed him. Or the kaiju did. Whichever.
Like this, this thing was cartilaginous and had a pair of swim bladders and it was a total fucking mess because of the oil it stored in glands to help balance the ambient pressure, and luckily enough, it wasn't caustic or anything even if it smelled a little like ambergris. One of those glands had been punctured when the kaiju was killed, and the oil was oozing everywhere. There was so much coating him, he looked like a glazed doughnut. He really should surprise Hermann with a hug later on.
He snuck a peek over at Hermann. What was he doing over there wringing his hands like somebody’s spinster aunt? He looked like he had bitten into a lemon but that wasn’t unusual. That weird little move he was doing looked like masturbation practice on his own hands. He did have long, slender fingers. Maybe that grimace was actually some kind of well camouflaged O face and holy shit, speaking of camouflage, this thing had a hidden pneumatic duct!
There it was, right between the swim bladder and the alimentary canal, which meant they were dealing with something physostomic and also explained how the kaiju had surfaced like a blimp with the capacity to hate and sucked a rescue helicopter right out of the air. He wished there was decent footage of that, he wanted to see if the gills were vestigal or what, but watching it would only make Hermann glare harder. He was doing it now actually. Like Newt couldn’t see him reflected off the chrome tabletop. Heh, if he really was jerking his own fingers off, then why was he staring over here so hard?
There was a joke there somewhere, about Hermann's lips being wide enough to be a physostome himself (hah! Make him look that up.) and what he should be doing with those long, perfect fingers, and OK, that was definitely off track. That thought sent all the blood rushing to his head. He rubbed his ear on his shoulder when it started to burn. Stupid sympathetic nervous reaction.
"I'm calling this one Goodyear," he said loudly to cover it up. Hermann was halfway up his ladder by then. He just grunted by way of answer. Why did a guy with a limp and either early osteoarthritis or carpal tunnel syndrome acting up insist on clambering up and down on a friggin' ladder? It didn't make any sense at all. Newt started to say something about that, but as soon as he opened his mouth again, he could taste the oil. It tasted like it smelled.
He bleched and went to rinse his mouth out. Still no tingling or burning, so the stuff must really be just grease. He had to pass the other new pieces on the way. There was a whole chunk full of chemoreceptors from the thing’s face. He couldn’t wait to get into that and ran his hands excitedly through his hair before he remembered how messy he was. Blech. Now he was going to have to rinse off completely.
Man, if only the jocks in the giant robot hadn’t completely destroyed the caudal and cranial portions, he might’ve been able to tell where the oil was coming from. Goodyear had barbels, and scutes, and a mucus membrane and probably used cutaneous respiration. He was already planning how to excavate one of the receptors. Maybe it would still react if he could find the right chemical mix to expose them to.
The emergency shower was cold enough to make him yelp and Hermann nearly fell off his perch when he heard it. Newt had to grin at him. He was was fully dressed in the under the spray because who cared? and his hair was plastered down and dripping around his ears.
"There was nothing to say a kaiju like this couldn’t move into freshwater with no problems at all," he said. His clothes were soaked too. He would never get out of his pants now. They were tight enough dry. Hermann raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Newt decided that it was in response to the statement and not his physique. "I mean, sure, it's still too big to pull it off stealthily, but if they could go smaller, like 150% smaller and then move in packs, they would be about a 1000% worse than snakeheads, no matter what cheaptastic horror movie was made about them."
"Horror was what I was thinking of," Hermann sighed, but Newt didn't hear him. He had left the shower running and gone back to work with the notion that an immiscible layer of water might keep the oil off better.
Day/Theme: 22. I'll overflow; who cares how I look
Series: Pacific Rim
Character/Pairing: Hermann Gottlieb/Newt Geiszler . Mostly Newt.
Rating: Some language.
This thing was too much. Too much and nowhere near enough and he was just vibrating with it. God, the possibilities. So many variables and outcomes and he couldn’t talk fast enough to explain it all. Luckily, it didn’t matter because he could think plenty fast enough and if people couldn’t keep up, well they were just lucky to have him there to lead the way.
His glasses started to slip down his nose and he shoved them back with the back of his arm. It left a streak of something oily on his cheek and he waited a second, two, three, and it didn't sting or burn or change color so he dove back into dissecting the latest kaiju sample. It was amazing, absolutely incredible and no one cared, so he was going to make them care if it killed him. Or the kaiju did. Whichever.
Like this, this thing was cartilaginous and had a pair of swim bladders and it was a total fucking mess because of the oil it stored in glands to help balance the ambient pressure, and luckily enough, it wasn't caustic or anything even if it smelled a little like ambergris. One of those glands had been punctured when the kaiju was killed, and the oil was oozing everywhere. There was so much coating him, he looked like a glazed doughnut. He really should surprise Hermann with a hug later on.
He snuck a peek over at Hermann. What was he doing over there wringing his hands like somebody’s spinster aunt? He looked like he had bitten into a lemon but that wasn’t unusual. That weird little move he was doing looked like masturbation practice on his own hands. He did have long, slender fingers. Maybe that grimace was actually some kind of well camouflaged O face and holy shit, speaking of camouflage, this thing had a hidden pneumatic duct!
There it was, right between the swim bladder and the alimentary canal, which meant they were dealing with something physostomic and also explained how the kaiju had surfaced like a blimp with the capacity to hate and sucked a rescue helicopter right out of the air. He wished there was decent footage of that, he wanted to see if the gills were vestigal or what, but watching it would only make Hermann glare harder. He was doing it now actually. Like Newt couldn’t see him reflected off the chrome tabletop. Heh, if he really was jerking his own fingers off, then why was he staring over here so hard?
There was a joke there somewhere, about Hermann's lips being wide enough to be a physostome himself (hah! Make him look that up.) and what he should be doing with those long, perfect fingers, and OK, that was definitely off track. That thought sent all the blood rushing to his head. He rubbed his ear on his shoulder when it started to burn. Stupid sympathetic nervous reaction.
"I'm calling this one Goodyear," he said loudly to cover it up. Hermann was halfway up his ladder by then. He just grunted by way of answer. Why did a guy with a limp and either early osteoarthritis or carpal tunnel syndrome acting up insist on clambering up and down on a friggin' ladder? It didn't make any sense at all. Newt started to say something about that, but as soon as he opened his mouth again, he could taste the oil. It tasted like it smelled.
He bleched and went to rinse his mouth out. Still no tingling or burning, so the stuff must really be just grease. He had to pass the other new pieces on the way. There was a whole chunk full of chemoreceptors from the thing’s face. He couldn’t wait to get into that and ran his hands excitedly through his hair before he remembered how messy he was. Blech. Now he was going to have to rinse off completely.
Man, if only the jocks in the giant robot hadn’t completely destroyed the caudal and cranial portions, he might’ve been able to tell where the oil was coming from. Goodyear had barbels, and scutes, and a mucus membrane and probably used cutaneous respiration. He was already planning how to excavate one of the receptors. Maybe it would still react if he could find the right chemical mix to expose them to.
The emergency shower was cold enough to make him yelp and Hermann nearly fell off his perch when he heard it. Newt had to grin at him. He was was fully dressed in the under the spray because who cared? and his hair was plastered down and dripping around his ears.
"There was nothing to say a kaiju like this couldn’t move into freshwater with no problems at all," he said. His clothes were soaked too. He would never get out of his pants now. They were tight enough dry. Hermann raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Newt decided that it was in response to the statement and not his physique. "I mean, sure, it's still too big to pull it off stealthily, but if they could go smaller, like 150% smaller and then move in packs, they would be about a 1000% worse than snakeheads, no matter what cheaptastic horror movie was made about them."
"Horror was what I was thinking of," Hermann sighed, but Newt didn't hear him. He had left the shower running and gone back to work with the notion that an immiscible layer of water might keep the oil off better.
