(Dr.) Newt(on Geiszler) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goddamnmoron) wrote2014-01-04 11:57 am
goddamnmoron) wrote2014-01-04 11:57 am
Entry tags:
Ruby City Application
PLAYER
Name: Box
Age: 25
Personal Journal:unseenbox
E-mail: boxofgrenades@gmail.com
AIM/MSN/etc: AIM: bardwithnoname; Plurk: likeabox
CHARACTER
Name: Newton “Newt” Geiszler
Canon: Pacific Rim
Age: The artbook and the fanwiki say he’s born in 1990; the dvd bonus features say 1980. I'm going with option one here, going mainly off gut feeling, making him about 35 years old.Either way, he acts about 12.
Timeline: Post-Movie
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A
Personality:
Okay, so the first thing most anyone’ll note about Newt is he’s about as far from the stodgy professor stereotype as you’re ever going to get, and that’s just from how he talks. He practically insists on going by his nickname, and if not that then at least don’t throw a doctor in there, even though he’s got six doctorates. He seems to think he’s more of a rock star than a scientist. He wears leather jackets and jeans, says ‘dude’ and ‘man’ like they’re going out of style, and oh, yeah, did we mention the Kaiju tattoos? Because chances are good that he will, if nothing else. Guy’s absolutely decked out in them from the torso on up, and yes, he does have a habit for rolling up his sleeves to prove it.
That’s the second thing anyone’s going to note about him, and to be fair, it’s one of the biggest: Newt’s very, very excitable. He gushes at length about kaiju when given the slightest opportunity, up to and including: in front of people who’ve lost loved ones to the attacks, when entering a black market dealer’s lair, and maybe an hour after a Kaiju tried to eat him. He wears his very strange fascination with them on his sleeves, yes, literally, but also in a more figurative sense, in that he’s a constant, slow-moving explosion of everything he’s thinking. He babbles when he’s trying to figure things out, and yes, that does mean he’ll talk his revelations out loud, even in a public shelter while a Kaiju is actively chasing him, and he leaves all manner of organic tissue out around his half of the lab like his body can’t contain all this energy, either. So, maybe a better word for this is ‘a little bit manic’, but a touch of mania never hurt anyone, right?
Except his lab partners. He’s loud, abrasive, and prone to interrupting and talking over information he doesn’t like hearing, complete with blah blah hand motions if necessary. There’s this egotistical jackassery that goes hand in hand with his enthusiasm. He’s absolutely certain he knows the most of anybody in the room, and challenging him on it just ends with the inevitable high-pitched (we mean it) screeching and Kaiju entrails flung across the room without care. He also seems to flaunt and dislike authority, to the point of calling the commanding officer a fascist while on the bridge. If he isn’t shoving his foot firmly into his mouth on accident, he’s self-assured to the point of cockiness on purpose. Newt’s one of those people who likes proving other people wrong more than he loves being right, and he loves being right quite a lot to begin with. So, the more people set up a hard limit, the more he’s gonna push against it in the spirit of, well, fuck you.
It wouldn’t be such a problem if he weren’t so smart. The guy’s a genius, and as much as he might not like acting the part, he’s still finding ways to fill it. In particular, he’s a very instinctive, intuitive thinker, the sort that goes from part A of an idea to part F very, very quickly. He latches onto the “Kaiju are clones” hypothesis from just two samples, and while he isn’t always right, he’s more dead on than wild or off the mark, no matter how, well, crazy he looks. He can appear impulsive, especially given how quickly he works, and to some degree he is, but he tends to follow through on these impulses in a way that turns back around into rock steady certainty. He clearly had the drift with a kaiju plan for awhile, it just took some button pushing to get him to pull the trigger.
Too bad Newt has the common sense God gave a drunken ant. Just because he has an idea doesn’t mean it’s a good one, and he’ll follow through on every single one of them to the bitter end. Like, oh, say, drifting with a kaiju. He’s reckless, prone to taking shortcuts, and creates disastrous pile ups for himself on a near constant basis. He almost always faces consequences for his actions, from the immediate almost killing himself with a neural bridge made of garbage, to the slightly more sustained causing an attack on Hong Kong as the Kaiju try to find him and kill him. He displays incredibly poor judgment throughout the film, too, which means he’s constantly in the process of stacking a deck of bad ideas up and kicking them in around him. He knows exactly what he wants, and he often gets it. Boy, does he ever.
He’s defined by his thoughts about the Kaiju. In particular, he seems to sit at this strange nexus point between awe and terror, although he leans full tilt towards terrified when Otachi chases him down the Hong Kong slums. Especially when he realizes the Kaiju are specifically after him, to the point that Otachi’s undeveloped baby makes a beeline for him. Hell, he’s so scared he starts bullshitting about what kind of doctor he is in order to get into a public shelter. From the way he speaks in the scene immediately following his first drift with the Kaiju, there’s this implication that he’s reluctant to drift with them again, considering how he first says “I can’t do that again,” pauses for a second, and then launches into the “unless you have a second Kaiju brain lying around” portion. But the awe’s still there, especially in the sense of wanting to understand them. They’re the biggest, most complicated biological puzzle he’s ever seen and he puts his all into trying to wrap his head around them. He’s connected to them, almost literally now, and that seems incredibly unlikely to change.
Much like Newt himself, really. For all his expansive personality traits, there’s this tinge of isolation and remoteness that rings around his actions. After all, if Hermann hadn’t shown up exactly when he did, there’s a pretty high probability he’d have killed himself with drifting solo twice. From some of the flashbacks interspersed in the drift, there’s some evidence that he’s fairly used to a competitive cooperation with others, and having his ideas and theories laughed off in return. He carries an assumption that no matter what he does, he’s going to end up doing it alone, and that frustration bleeds over into other areas. For example, when he’s trying to explain his drifting with a Kaiju plan in the first place, he gets so side-tracked by Hermann’s dismissals and his own inability to put his ideas into words that he doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in his methodology. Kindness tends to blindside him, too. It’s an utter surprise to him that someone who’s known him for about a decade might actually be willing to help him out. Not only that, but Hermann volunteering to help with the second drift also shows some faith in his work. That’s kind of a novelty with Newt, too.
Novelties are what Newt’s all about, when you get right down to it. Finding new things, new pathways, and going down them alone if he has to. Fortune may not favor the brave as much as he wishes it does, but there’s this core of guts to him, which pushes into recklessness more often than not. He’s driven and determined, and it takes just about every single bad idea he’s ever had collapsing down around him to get him to change his mind even a little. After all, what has he learned from all this, really? He’s still awed by the Kaiju, if tempered by a more reasonable level of fear, something that he’s going to cycle through for quite awhile. He’s still brash and intuitive, able to figure out how to help fix the destroy the Breach plan in a matter of moments. What’s really changed is that he’s learned he doesn’t have to do any of this alone. He’s more a part of the goings on than he was at the start, as he hadn’t appeared on the bridge for a single scene until the finale. Hell, by the end credits, he’s even hugged Hermann twice. Newt’s going to keep stacking his destructive cards up against himself, but as it turns out, sometimes people are willing to lend him a hand cleaning it up.
Background: Yo. In a case where the novelization and movie conflict, the movie trumps.
Abilities:
Science - Newt’s got about six PhDs, and if he’s here, chances are he’ll be putting all of them to use. Primarily, Newt’s a biologist, so expect him to have a solid grasp on things like anatomy, cell structure, and organic functions. He’s spent years studying Kaiju, often up close and wrist deep in their organs. When the Jaegers bag ‘em, he tags ‘em. He also must have solid neuroscience knowledge, given his ability to tap into the Kaiju brain enough to drift with it in the first place. He’s definitely skilled with engineering, having built his original apparatus himself using spare parts.
The Drift - Turns out drifting with an alien hivemind twice and your lab partner once might come with some side effects. Drifting is basically a mind meld, requires some very specialized equipment, and allows the Jaegers to function, as the robots require two people to split hemisphere controls or it’ll overload the pilot and cause death to ensue. However, since Newt didn’t do… 90% of those things when he drifted with the Kaiju, things work a little bit differently. One thing that doesn’t change, regardless of hivemind, is the notion of ghost drifting, which means a lingering mental link after the connection is severed. Most notably and clearly, the Kaiju can sense where he is and track him down through it. Very adamantly, too, as he’s found out firsthand. Secondly, it seems he’s influenced by their behaviors and thought patterns, although which way the influence goes at any given time is a bit murky. For example, Newt falls at the exact same second and the exact same way as Baby Otachi. Drifting with the Kaiju is so taxing that causes seizures, nosebleeds, and a bloodshot ring to form around an iris during the drift itself. The nifty eye effect is probably not permanenteven though it looks really cool.
While this is all very focused on the Kaiju, the intuitive ‘can sense what the other is thinking/feeling’ thing associated with ghost drifting also applies to Hermann, although perhaps not as drastically as with the, you know, alien hivemind. It’s also possible that as time passes without drifting, all of these effects will decay.
Music - Newt can play the keyboard and other piano related instruments. Pretty well, too. He also has an electric guitar and set of bongos in his lab, so it’s possible he can play those as well. Unfortunately, his musical abilities don’t extend to singing, which isn’t enough to stop him from trying.
First Person: thread from testdrive Still in progress!
Third Person:
He got them from all over the place. A little bit here, a little bit there. A lung from Manila, a liver from Sydney, a swim bladder from Shanghai, and on and on. On a good day, the shipments all came in from roughly the same place, hopefully in as few pieces as possible, he met up with the helicopters, didn’t spill and bust his ass on the landing pad, took the elevator down to the lab, and would be halfway through the skin layers before he had to break for lunch. On a bad day, almost none of that happened. The system got backed up, or at least, that’s what the tech crew kept telling him, and really, it’s not simple to clean up the various bits of Kaiju remains, stick them in a tub of ammonia, and lock the door on the way out. On the worst days, the ones when nothing was moving very fast or very far and he was stuck staring at the keyboards and the same set of organic tissue for a week straight, he got the feeling they just wanted to slow him down.
You know, not a lot. Just a bit. Hard to appreciate the work that goes into understanding things when you’re dedicated to eradicating every last one of them, except the ones inked onto his skin. Even then, he remembered some of the old K-Science crews and how they’d stare at him when he rolled up his sleeves to cut through the skin layers faster, like they wanted to cut them away from him, too. Which, you know, a bit morbid for scientists, but he guessed the possible impending apocalypse tended to make everyone a little jumpy. But those K-Scientists were all gone now, lost to budget cuts and setbacks and not being able to take London Calling at 3 a.m. Fine. More samples for him -- and Hermann, too. If mathematicians even had samples besides what, data clusters?
He had clusters, too. Clusters as far as the eye could see, and then some. If nothing else, the pile of sheet music near the keyboards and under the bongos had to count for something. But mostly they were clusters of, you know, the typical biological stuff, except absolutely nowhere close to typical. Sure, the Kaiju had cells which inevitably clustered up into tissue and from there, you know the drill, but those cells were comprised of substances he’d have to run through his own inventions just to analyze properly. Building with silicon instead of carbon tended to do that, and that wasn’t even getting into the ammonia based circulatory system, strong enough to eat through the first set of gloves he ever used to try and trace the path of a vein, or at least the remains of it. Just the smallest, tiniest pieces of them were completely different from everything he spent more decades than he cared to admit learning about.
Some days, he woke up and knew, just knew, he had the best job in the world. When the news reports rolled in, he just worked faster.
Name: Box
Age: 25
Personal Journal:
unseenboxE-mail: boxofgrenades@gmail.com
AIM/MSN/etc: AIM: bardwithnoname; Plurk: likeabox
CHARACTER
Name: Newton “Newt” Geiszler
Canon: Pacific Rim
Age: The artbook and the fanwiki say he’s born in 1990; the dvd bonus features say 1980. I'm going with option one here, going mainly off gut feeling, making him about 35 years old.
Timeline: Post-Movie
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A
Personality:
Okay, so the first thing most anyone’ll note about Newt is he’s about as far from the stodgy professor stereotype as you’re ever going to get, and that’s just from how he talks. He practically insists on going by his nickname, and if not that then at least don’t throw a doctor in there, even though he’s got six doctorates. He seems to think he’s more of a rock star than a scientist. He wears leather jackets and jeans, says ‘dude’ and ‘man’ like they’re going out of style, and oh, yeah, did we mention the Kaiju tattoos? Because chances are good that he will, if nothing else. Guy’s absolutely decked out in them from the torso on up, and yes, he does have a habit for rolling up his sleeves to prove it.
That’s the second thing anyone’s going to note about him, and to be fair, it’s one of the biggest: Newt’s very, very excitable. He gushes at length about kaiju when given the slightest opportunity, up to and including: in front of people who’ve lost loved ones to the attacks, when entering a black market dealer’s lair, and maybe an hour after a Kaiju tried to eat him. He wears his very strange fascination with them on his sleeves, yes, literally, but also in a more figurative sense, in that he’s a constant, slow-moving explosion of everything he’s thinking. He babbles when he’s trying to figure things out, and yes, that does mean he’ll talk his revelations out loud, even in a public shelter while a Kaiju is actively chasing him, and he leaves all manner of organic tissue out around his half of the lab like his body can’t contain all this energy, either. So, maybe a better word for this is ‘a little bit manic’, but a touch of mania never hurt anyone, right?
Except his lab partners. He’s loud, abrasive, and prone to interrupting and talking over information he doesn’t like hearing, complete with blah blah hand motions if necessary. There’s this egotistical jackassery that goes hand in hand with his enthusiasm. He’s absolutely certain he knows the most of anybody in the room, and challenging him on it just ends with the inevitable high-pitched (we mean it) screeching and Kaiju entrails flung across the room without care. He also seems to flaunt and dislike authority, to the point of calling the commanding officer a fascist while on the bridge. If he isn’t shoving his foot firmly into his mouth on accident, he’s self-assured to the point of cockiness on purpose. Newt’s one of those people who likes proving other people wrong more than he loves being right, and he loves being right quite a lot to begin with. So, the more people set up a hard limit, the more he’s gonna push against it in the spirit of, well, fuck you.
It wouldn’t be such a problem if he weren’t so smart. The guy’s a genius, and as much as he might not like acting the part, he’s still finding ways to fill it. In particular, he’s a very instinctive, intuitive thinker, the sort that goes from part A of an idea to part F very, very quickly. He latches onto the “Kaiju are clones” hypothesis from just two samples, and while he isn’t always right, he’s more dead on than wild or off the mark, no matter how, well, crazy he looks. He can appear impulsive, especially given how quickly he works, and to some degree he is, but he tends to follow through on these impulses in a way that turns back around into rock steady certainty. He clearly had the drift with a kaiju plan for awhile, it just took some button pushing to get him to pull the trigger.
Too bad Newt has the common sense God gave a drunken ant. Just because he has an idea doesn’t mean it’s a good one, and he’ll follow through on every single one of them to the bitter end. Like, oh, say, drifting with a kaiju. He’s reckless, prone to taking shortcuts, and creates disastrous pile ups for himself on a near constant basis. He almost always faces consequences for his actions, from the immediate almost killing himself with a neural bridge made of garbage, to the slightly more sustained causing an attack on Hong Kong as the Kaiju try to find him and kill him. He displays incredibly poor judgment throughout the film, too, which means he’s constantly in the process of stacking a deck of bad ideas up and kicking them in around him. He knows exactly what he wants, and he often gets it. Boy, does he ever.
He’s defined by his thoughts about the Kaiju. In particular, he seems to sit at this strange nexus point between awe and terror, although he leans full tilt towards terrified when Otachi chases him down the Hong Kong slums. Especially when he realizes the Kaiju are specifically after him, to the point that Otachi’s undeveloped baby makes a beeline for him. Hell, he’s so scared he starts bullshitting about what kind of doctor he is in order to get into a public shelter. From the way he speaks in the scene immediately following his first drift with the Kaiju, there’s this implication that he’s reluctant to drift with them again, considering how he first says “I can’t do that again,” pauses for a second, and then launches into the “unless you have a second Kaiju brain lying around” portion. But the awe’s still there, especially in the sense of wanting to understand them. They’re the biggest, most complicated biological puzzle he’s ever seen and he puts his all into trying to wrap his head around them. He’s connected to them, almost literally now, and that seems incredibly unlikely to change.
Much like Newt himself, really. For all his expansive personality traits, there’s this tinge of isolation and remoteness that rings around his actions. After all, if Hermann hadn’t shown up exactly when he did, there’s a pretty high probability he’d have killed himself with drifting solo twice. From some of the flashbacks interspersed in the drift, there’s some evidence that he’s fairly used to a competitive cooperation with others, and having his ideas and theories laughed off in return. He carries an assumption that no matter what he does, he’s going to end up doing it alone, and that frustration bleeds over into other areas. For example, when he’s trying to explain his drifting with a Kaiju plan in the first place, he gets so side-tracked by Hermann’s dismissals and his own inability to put his ideas into words that he doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in his methodology. Kindness tends to blindside him, too. It’s an utter surprise to him that someone who’s known him for about a decade might actually be willing to help him out. Not only that, but Hermann volunteering to help with the second drift also shows some faith in his work. That’s kind of a novelty with Newt, too.
Novelties are what Newt’s all about, when you get right down to it. Finding new things, new pathways, and going down them alone if he has to. Fortune may not favor the brave as much as he wishes it does, but there’s this core of guts to him, which pushes into recklessness more often than not. He’s driven and determined, and it takes just about every single bad idea he’s ever had collapsing down around him to get him to change his mind even a little. After all, what has he learned from all this, really? He’s still awed by the Kaiju, if tempered by a more reasonable level of fear, something that he’s going to cycle through for quite awhile. He’s still brash and intuitive, able to figure out how to help fix the destroy the Breach plan in a matter of moments. What’s really changed is that he’s learned he doesn’t have to do any of this alone. He’s more a part of the goings on than he was at the start, as he hadn’t appeared on the bridge for a single scene until the finale. Hell, by the end credits, he’s even hugged Hermann twice. Newt’s going to keep stacking his destructive cards up against himself, but as it turns out, sometimes people are willing to lend him a hand cleaning it up.
Background: Yo. In a case where the novelization and movie conflict, the movie trumps.
Abilities:
Science - Newt’s got about six PhDs, and if he’s here, chances are he’ll be putting all of them to use. Primarily, Newt’s a biologist, so expect him to have a solid grasp on things like anatomy, cell structure, and organic functions. He’s spent years studying Kaiju, often up close and wrist deep in their organs. When the Jaegers bag ‘em, he tags ‘em. He also must have solid neuroscience knowledge, given his ability to tap into the Kaiju brain enough to drift with it in the first place. He’s definitely skilled with engineering, having built his original apparatus himself using spare parts.
The Drift - Turns out drifting with an alien hivemind twice and your lab partner once might come with some side effects. Drifting is basically a mind meld, requires some very specialized equipment, and allows the Jaegers to function, as the robots require two people to split hemisphere controls or it’ll overload the pilot and cause death to ensue. However, since Newt didn’t do… 90% of those things when he drifted with the Kaiju, things work a little bit differently. One thing that doesn’t change, regardless of hivemind, is the notion of ghost drifting, which means a lingering mental link after the connection is severed. Most notably and clearly, the Kaiju can sense where he is and track him down through it. Very adamantly, too, as he’s found out firsthand. Secondly, it seems he’s influenced by their behaviors and thought patterns, although which way the influence goes at any given time is a bit murky. For example, Newt falls at the exact same second and the exact same way as Baby Otachi. Drifting with the Kaiju is so taxing that causes seizures, nosebleeds, and a bloodshot ring to form around an iris during the drift itself. The nifty eye effect is probably not permanent
While this is all very focused on the Kaiju, the intuitive ‘can sense what the other is thinking/feeling’ thing associated with ghost drifting also applies to Hermann, although perhaps not as drastically as with the, you know, alien hivemind. It’s also possible that as time passes without drifting, all of these effects will decay.
Music - Newt can play the keyboard and other piano related instruments. Pretty well, too. He also has an electric guitar and set of bongos in his lab, so it’s possible he can play those as well. Unfortunately, his musical abilities don’t extend to singing, which isn’t enough to stop him from trying.
First Person: thread from testdrive Still in progress!
Third Person:
He got them from all over the place. A little bit here, a little bit there. A lung from Manila, a liver from Sydney, a swim bladder from Shanghai, and on and on. On a good day, the shipments all came in from roughly the same place, hopefully in as few pieces as possible, he met up with the helicopters, didn’t spill and bust his ass on the landing pad, took the elevator down to the lab, and would be halfway through the skin layers before he had to break for lunch. On a bad day, almost none of that happened. The system got backed up, or at least, that’s what the tech crew kept telling him, and really, it’s not simple to clean up the various bits of Kaiju remains, stick them in a tub of ammonia, and lock the door on the way out. On the worst days, the ones when nothing was moving very fast or very far and he was stuck staring at the keyboards and the same set of organic tissue for a week straight, he got the feeling they just wanted to slow him down.
You know, not a lot. Just a bit. Hard to appreciate the work that goes into understanding things when you’re dedicated to eradicating every last one of them, except the ones inked onto his skin. Even then, he remembered some of the old K-Science crews and how they’d stare at him when he rolled up his sleeves to cut through the skin layers faster, like they wanted to cut them away from him, too. Which, you know, a bit morbid for scientists, but he guessed the possible impending apocalypse tended to make everyone a little jumpy. But those K-Scientists were all gone now, lost to budget cuts and setbacks and not being able to take London Calling at 3 a.m. Fine. More samples for him -- and Hermann, too. If mathematicians even had samples besides what, data clusters?
He had clusters, too. Clusters as far as the eye could see, and then some. If nothing else, the pile of sheet music near the keyboards and under the bongos had to count for something. But mostly they were clusters of, you know, the typical biological stuff, except absolutely nowhere close to typical. Sure, the Kaiju had cells which inevitably clustered up into tissue and from there, you know the drill, but those cells were comprised of substances he’d have to run through his own inventions just to analyze properly. Building with silicon instead of carbon tended to do that, and that wasn’t even getting into the ammonia based circulatory system, strong enough to eat through the first set of gloves he ever used to try and trace the path of a vein, or at least the remains of it. Just the smallest, tiniest pieces of them were completely different from everything he spent more decades than he cared to admit learning about.
Some days, he woke up and knew, just knew, he had the best job in the world. When the news reports rolled in, he just worked faster.