Of Kaijus and Kings

The squeak and grate of chalk on the black boards had begun to burrow into Hermann’s head. He was no closer to cracking the Rift than when he had walked in this morning, and he knew it. He was frustrated, angry, and if he say one more Kaiju part cross to his side of the room he was going to start throwing things. He leaned heavily onto the tray of one of his boards and sighed deeply, taking comfort in the dry smell of the chalk that surrounded him.

From the other side of the room, Hermann could hear his lab partner drop something and let out a stream of profanity that would make most of the pilots flush. It hadn’t been a good day for either of them, research wise. Hermann thought about snapping for scilence, but thought better of it, deciding he would take a small pity on the shorter man.

Hermann stood up and drew himself to full height. He turned, snatching up his can and strode over to Newton’s side of the room.

"Newton. Come with me down to the mess. I think it’s time that we both take a break." He said, all but demanding cooperation with the man. Hermann knew he needed to be clipped and blunt with him, or Newt would blow him off without another word.