Hermann Gottlieb (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mathemagier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2015-11-15 05:33 pm
mathemagier) wrote in maskormenacelogs2015-11-15 05:33 pm
[OPEN]
WHO: Hermann, Newton, StarkTech employees, & OPEN to anyone that might want to stop by!
WHERE: StarkTech
WHEN: All of November
WHAT: Nerds and science!!
WARNINGS: Swearing and biology stuff?
NOTES: Feel free to respond with prose if that's your preferred tagging method! Also let us know if you'd rather tag with only one of them, as they'll likely both be responding to a given thread by default.
[The biotech lab is divided by a line of bright yellow tape.
Equipment is divvied up with most of the medical-looking equipment to one side, and most of the computers on the other, as if the division heads simply couldn't reconcile their differences.
Large, imposing chalkboards stand as a strange centerpiece to the technological side, complete with a sliding ladder and numerous boxes of chalk stacked on a desk nearby. Equations litter the surface, complex formula with strings of variables written in lowercase, notations entirely capitalized.
To the right is a ten foot robot, with panels missing and wires exposed, hooked into a small set of monitors running streams of code and projections nearby. The left side of the chalkboards is an engineer's work space, with half-completed bits of tech, spare parts, tools, wiring, screws, and 3D displays strewn about in an organized clutter. Even a small collection of books on what looks to be a neatly maintained personal desk.
The biological side of the lab stands in stark contrast to the professional work environment cultivated on the far side of the tape.
It looks a bit like a college student moved in, complete with cheesy posters, various dinosaur and Godzilla toys decorating the shelves, and humorous science puns and memes that were printed off the internet for display. There are jars everywhere, labelled a bit overzealously with differently colored sticky notes and warnings about the contents.
Paperwork litters most desk surfaces in a disorganized array, backdropped by a large fluctuating holograph depicting lines of chemical readouts. A radio and keyboard stand nearby for no discernible reason, but are nevertheless surrounded by scientific charts and various graphs.
Woe betide anyone that attempts to restore order to the biological division, or disrupts the structure of the technological side.]
WHERE: StarkTech
WHEN: All of November
WHAT: Nerds and science!!
WARNINGS: Swearing and biology stuff?
NOTES: Feel free to respond with prose if that's your preferred tagging method! Also let us know if you'd rather tag with only one of them, as they'll likely both be responding to a given thread by default.
[The biotech lab is divided by a line of bright yellow tape.
Equipment is divvied up with most of the medical-looking equipment to one side, and most of the computers on the other, as if the division heads simply couldn't reconcile their differences.
Large, imposing chalkboards stand as a strange centerpiece to the technological side, complete with a sliding ladder and numerous boxes of chalk stacked on a desk nearby. Equations litter the surface, complex formula with strings of variables written in lowercase, notations entirely capitalized.
To the right is a ten foot robot, with panels missing and wires exposed, hooked into a small set of monitors running streams of code and projections nearby. The left side of the chalkboards is an engineer's work space, with half-completed bits of tech, spare parts, tools, wiring, screws, and 3D displays strewn about in an organized clutter. Even a small collection of books on what looks to be a neatly maintained personal desk.
The biological side of the lab stands in stark contrast to the professional work environment cultivated on the far side of the tape.
It looks a bit like a college student moved in, complete with cheesy posters, various dinosaur and Godzilla toys decorating the shelves, and humorous science puns and memes that were printed off the internet for display. There are jars everywhere, labelled a bit overzealously with differently colored sticky notes and warnings about the contents.
Paperwork litters most desk surfaces in a disorganized array, backdropped by a large fluctuating holograph depicting lines of chemical readouts. A radio and keyboard stand nearby for no discernible reason, but are nevertheless surrounded by scientific charts and various graphs.
Woe betide anyone that attempts to restore order to the biological division, or disrupts the structure of the technological side.]
no subject
"I don't deserve the friendship I've got," he admitted softly. "But I want his friendship enough to keep trying to deserve it." It felt like a revelation, a vow, a reminder.
Newt was not necessarily an optimistic man. He was not a pessimist and worry-wort in the same way Hermann was, and data wasn't the same kind of end-all-be-all, but he didn't necessarily put a ton of faith into people he hardly knew. That said, he didn't think Manolo was the type who could not bury the hatchet. He had obviously been affected--hurt, betrayed--by Joaquin's words enough to kill himself, but the man Newt had met the couple of times didn't seem like he was still unable to get over that. And if he was, Joaquin had had a lot to make up for, if he could make up for it.
"You know, even if you scream and--and say something godawful to each other? Still better than not talking and waiting for that bomb to drop. Right? Because it'll come out eventually and when you least want it to and if you do it now, at least you get to do it on your own terms. Rip that bandaid off now." It had worked for Newt, so that was the advice he could give. Talking, yelling, fighting...that had always been the way Newt communicated with the person most vital to his existence these past few years. And maybe it wasn't the healthiest way to go about it, but it was the only way Newt knew how and sometimes you had to just mutually rage and vent and cry in frustration and curse everything to damnation in order to find your feet again. He had walked out of that fight with Hermann having said a great deal of things that, for better or worse, had to be said.
"There's a point where you have to, I guess, give up on looking like the cool, tough guy. Man up and talk about feelings. Apologize," Newt was still learning the latter. "And I know, you're looking at me going 'Newt, what the hell do you know about manning up?' Not much, sure, but enough and I know about trying to look like you got it together. When you don't. When you've really fucked up."
He let out a deep sigh and looked down at the sidewalk. He pat Joaquin again.
"God, man. I'm rooting for you, I don't know why. But I hope it fucking works out."
no subject
"Do it... now?" Yeah. Yeah. It had to be now. And he was going to have to be honest. Truthful. And that scared him more than anything.
"I'm not good... saying the right words in this kind of thing. But I can... I can apologize and just tell him what happened and..." And then what? He'd take whatever blows came.
That pat on the back meant more to Joaquin than he could express. But all he could find in himself to say was, "Thanks. I... I..."
Joaquin sniffled and wiped at his face again, then looked up at the StarkTech building. "I need to go home. Talk to Manolo. I don't know why I came here, really but..." and his gaze falls back to Newt, "... I'm glad I did."