Newton Falk
= Newton Falk

Born: Coventry, June 17th 1870
Occupation: Pilot, Gun hand
Nationality: English
Height: 5' 11"
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Dark Blue

Player: Chris
Concept: Airship Pilot, Pistoleer
Issue: Driven slightly mad by a mad world, Newton
seeks to put things right before finding a quiet place to
settle down and wait for it try to kill itself again.
Edge: Ex-Military
Edge: Combat Pilot
Connection: Roland Devlin: Sky pirate, Blockade
runner and notoriously incompetent Casanova
(waiting for his own spin-off)
Season 1 Screen Presence: 1 2 3 2 1 1 1 2 1
Season 2 Screen Presence: 2 1 2 3 2 1 1 1 2

First Appearance: Pilot

Newton Falk has always been a lucid dreamer. Sometimes he dreams of an imaginary figure controlling his every action and making him do things that make no sense. When he wakes up he's never entirely sure if he has. This should explain some of his more foolhardy morning adventures.

The Secret History of Newton Falk

The morning fog flooded the streets of Coventry, the early spring sun too low yet to reach over the rooftops and push it back into the thawing earth. Poking up through the rivers of fog the pre-Enlightenment roofs of shingles and slate were interspersed with newer more modern buildings. All built post-Enlightenment, all in some way tied to that government and it's philosophy. Each one built to be no more than .01% as soulless as the next. Everyday more plans were made. Each day time creaped slowly away from the old quiet streets and closer to the brutal efficiency of Mechanus. Coventry was on the run.

Low above the city a massive airship drifted lazily through the dawn toward the mooring spire in the center of the city. On board the crew were preparing the ship to dock. In the compartments the passengers were almost all dressed and awaiting their first steps on land after a weeks travel, first across the Channel and then past the gleaming walls of Mechanus itself. Ben and Marcy Falk saw nothing of this from the cargo hold. As the lines were thrown and the great ship was secured to the mast their minds were miles away from the dim morning spectacle. Their son was being born.

Enlisting with the Enlightenment

When he was sixteen, Newton Falk joined the military. He told the other conscripts he wanted to kill towel heads, he told his Sargent he wanted to see the world and he told his recruiter he was named Heinrick and he'd just turned eighteen. All of these were as true as the last. Newton Falk, Heinrick Gumpertson to the boys in the 314th Marine Based Aeronautic Reconnaissance and Support Unit, wanted simply to fly. He'd spent two years cleaning fuselages and engines cowlings with his father and all he'd learned was that he was on the wrong end of the cockpit.

They had a rule about the young men in the shop cleaning out the cockpits of the autogyros that were brought back for reservicing. The enlightenment saw it as inefficient to do anymore than build a crate around fallen aircraft and ship them back to Coventry. Newton had seen the holes, he'd cleaned the blood from the outside. He thought about what had happened, but he spent more time listening to the stories. For every eight or nine beaten and bullet holed autogyros that came back to Coventry, there was a recuperating pilot to sit in the pub and tell all everyone who would listen of marvelous dogfight that brought down twelve planes and drove the towel heads out of Turkestan. Newton sat at the feet of each one of them and each time they left to ship out for their next adventure, he wanted to go with them.

This was of course exactly what the Enlightenment wanted of it's youth. It was why they sent surviving pilots not home, but to a town like this with instructions to tell their stories in an exciting and informative way. They were always given care, both medical and psychological, certain drugs and helpful information to help them with their task. If the new pilots signing up seemed worried that the veteran that the pub seemed a bit manic, or that he wouldn't talk about anything not related to the Enlightenment and it's grand design, they said nothing. And that was how the Enlightenment liked it.

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