Solf J Kimblee (
explosivecombat) wrote2013-03-08 11:42 am
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Entry tags:
- !ic,
- **anonymous,
- *text,
- *video,
- archer's gonna kill him,
- because awesome that's why,
- come at me bro,
- good ideas are clearly relative concepts,
- how edgy of you,
- i am superior,
- just thought he'd ask,
- no sense of self-preservation,
- not slacking off for once,
- one-man army,
- raid on the city knock out evil tusks,
- sanity is so passé,
- ten points to ego,
- the greater internet fuckwad theory,
- this is really stupid,
- tonight we're going hard,
- well that's needlessly sinister,
- why we can't have nice things
023. [Anonymous Text + Images/Video]
[An anonymous text will be going out to the network today; the ID is consistent with the one that usually sends out things along these lines from Seth.
Surprisingly (and lbr, probably refreshingly), there aren't any images of Seth's "work" prefacing the text; it simply gets to the point.]
It's been a year since we first met. As predicted, I'm still doing just fine. Those who stated I would be caught before the year mark have officially failed in their task.
But as I've said before, I like to level the playing field a bit once in a while. It keeps things interesting for me. And since people in this place tend to like their anniversaries, I thought I would celebrate mine with an invitation for you.
I'm in Goldenrod City for the next week. If you want a battle, you're more than welcome to it.
I have eyes all over the city. Set up a trap for me and I'll know. But meet me as my equal and you'll be rewarded.
No tricks. No lies. Just battle.
Contact me and we'll see what can be arranged.
[The text is punctuated with an image, taken in what appears to be a mostly-dark meeting room; the focus of the picture is on a set of six Ultra Balls, shining dimly from what little light is illuminating the room. Visible behind the table they're set on is what's clearly a Team Rocket member, visible from the upper chest to about his hips; he's leaning against the table, gloved hands braced on either side of the set of Ultra Balls, and as usual, the red R insignia on his shirt is able to be seen easily enough.
The second attachment is a brief video. Though his face is still out of the shot, the Rocket in question seems to have seated himself behind that table; the Ultra Balls are still displayed in front of him, but a white card is obscuring some of them, pinned between two of his fingers. The card is handwritten in thick, blocky lettering, as though they've been written over repeatedly, obscuring the handwriting and making them less identifiable.
MY NAME IS SETH. A YEAR AGO TODAY, I BEGAN MY WORK.
AND I KNOW SOME OF YOU HAVE WANTED TO MEET ME IN PERSON.
He turns the card over slowly; there are two words written on the back, in the same style as the front.
ANY CHALLENGERS?]
[OOC]
[If there are any takers when it comes to this challenge of Kimblee's, there will be a log set up later this week to accommodate all your battling needs! This post is for the sake of arranging such things, should anyone be interested in trying to throttle the bastard. This isn't a plot so much as it is a post in two parts, so to speak.]
Surprisingly (and lbr, probably refreshingly), there aren't any images of Seth's "work" prefacing the text; it simply gets to the point.]
It's been a year since we first met. As predicted, I'm still doing just fine. Those who stated I would be caught before the year mark have officially failed in their task.
But as I've said before, I like to level the playing field a bit once in a while. It keeps things interesting for me. And since people in this place tend to like their anniversaries, I thought I would celebrate mine with an invitation for you.
I'm in Goldenrod City for the next week. If you want a battle, you're more than welcome to it.
I have eyes all over the city. Set up a trap for me and I'll know. But meet me as my equal and you'll be rewarded.
No tricks. No lies. Just battle.
Contact me and we'll see what can be arranged.
[The text is punctuated with an image, taken in what appears to be a mostly-dark meeting room; the focus of the picture is on a set of six Ultra Balls, shining dimly from what little light is illuminating the room. Visible behind the table they're set on is what's clearly a Team Rocket member, visible from the upper chest to about his hips; he's leaning against the table, gloved hands braced on either side of the set of Ultra Balls, and as usual, the red R insignia on his shirt is able to be seen easily enough.
The second attachment is a brief video. Though his face is still out of the shot, the Rocket in question seems to have seated himself behind that table; the Ultra Balls are still displayed in front of him, but a white card is obscuring some of them, pinned between two of his fingers. The card is handwritten in thick, blocky lettering, as though they've been written over repeatedly, obscuring the handwriting and making them less identifiable.
MY NAME IS SETH. A YEAR AGO TODAY, I BEGAN MY WORK.
AND I KNOW SOME OF YOU HAVE WANTED TO MEET ME IN PERSON.
He turns the card over slowly; there are two words written on the back, in the same style as the front.
ANY CHALLENGERS?]
[OOC]
[If there are any takers when it comes to this challenge of Kimblee's, there will be a log set up later this week to accommodate all your battling needs! This post is for the sake of arranging such things, should anyone be interested in trying to throttle the bastard. This isn't a plot so much as it is a post in two parts, so to speak.]
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All right. Let's. Try to pick our way through that veritable minefield of...whatever the fuck that was.]
...listen to me. I'm not trying to insult you, nor am I trying to find fault with what you're saying. I'm not looking for things to pick apart and criticize; I'm also not trying to find an excuse to leave. Nothing you explain to me right now will make me leave. I'm going to stay here with you until we've worked this out; I'm not abandoning you. But I cannot understand what you're trying to communicate to me.
You know I don't always understand emotional matters; assume this is a problem with my comprehension, if it suits you. You've given me a lot to try to work through, and I don't understand all of it. I want to understand you; start from what you believe to be the most relevant point and we'll work from there.
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He doesn't understand. Yes, Kimblee has difficulty understanding emotional matters. He knows that. He doesn't understand why this is effecting him like this. He should still be infuriated with Kimblee for refusing to engage in a shrieking match (regardless of the fact that Kimblee doesn't scream) and he's obviously blocking Archer's rage.
Archer finally returns to the desk, sitting back down and glaring at the research notes, like it's their fault somehow.]
...I can't always control how I react. In fact, I usually can't control how I react. It's not healthy, and it's certainly not beneficial to our relationship at all. I understand that. If there was some way for me to change it, I would. I've tried everything I can think of to control my anger, but nothing ever works.
So you say you won't put up with that. I understand that and if this were any other situation - any normal situation - I would agree whole-heartedly. You shouldn't be treated like that. They way you said that implied that I would have to find some way to change things or you would leave. I've told you how important you are to me and how I can't even function without you here. It sounds to me like you're using that against me; either I will find some way to change what I've already told you I can't change, or you'll simply leave.
It's manipulative as hell, something I have gone out of my way to make sure I never do to you. I promised you I wouldn't use anything like that against you and it's been a long time since I last did anything like that. It's only fair that you return the same courtesy to me, isn't it?
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I'm not asking you to change the emotional reaction. If that can't be helped, then so be it. I'm not going to try to argue about what you feel, because I have no way of knowing and it isn't my place to dictate it. But telling me that you have no control over what you say to me isn't going to be acceptable, because I believe you do. Saying that you're intentionally trying to hurt me when you're angry implies some semblance of control over what you're saying. I won't try to claim it's good control, but you at least have some idea of what you're saying and doing. Take time to temper it. Does that make sense?
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I asked you to temper your speech. You refuse to take any responsibility and instead provided me with excuses. Yes, this much is your fault. Not everything. This. Better?
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Answer something for me. Why do you think I leave?
I promise this is relevant; I'm not saying that I'm going to leave you now. I just want to know what you think in regards to why I do it. Do you believe I'm punishing you?
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...Yes, I do believe that's part of it. Though I imagine it's to give us both some time to cool off before we attempt to work things out.
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I leave because I can't handle being around you anymore. I'm not trying to manipulate you. I'm not trying to punish you. I simply can't take it anymore.
This entire discussion has been you yelling at me about how manipulative I am for not being able to simply stand here and take it if you want to punish me for no reason. What a terrible person I am for not tolerating your treatment. Because if I leave, it's hurting you.
Your mindset is so self-centered it disgusts me, in regards to this. Do you honestly not understand why it's repulsive to tell someone they have to tolerate the sort of things you intentionally and knowingly do, because it's going to hurt you if they don't?
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You need to learn to pay attention. If I believed that everything was about me do you think I would bother with half the shit I do for you? I have been working myself ragged to make sure this next attack will go off without a hitch. Why? I certainly don't need to attack anyone. I would be perfectly fine waiting until the right moment to strike the Executives and never bothering with any other minor attacks. I have more than enough to earn another promotion. There is literally no reason for me to bother attacking anyone else.
But I'm doing all this for you. You want to be entertained, you want to fight, and you want to be allowed to be as reckless as you desire. Fine. I don't like it, but I can set things up for you and make sure that things will go well. I have been doing everything in my power to make sure that this will go smoothly and that my Pokémon can handle the stress of controlling a Gym Leader so you won't have to deal with it. You told me how badly that bothered you and I've listened. I told you that you won't have to go through that again, but that is a crucial part of this plan. I've been working to make sure that my Pokémon can handle that part alone.
That's not the extent of it and you know that. If I didn't care about you, do you really think I would try so hard to please you? To make sure that you're at least content? I can't make you happy, Kimblee. I've accepted that. I do what I can for you. And yet you turn around and claim that I'm selfish when I explain why I do the things that I do? Do you think I like being this way? Do you think I enjoy driving everyone away? Do you think I want to fight with you about this?
And you have the audacity to claim that I only think about myself.
[He folds his hands and leans his chin against them, but it doesn't do much to hide just how badly he's shaking.]
I'm not telling you to tolerate the way I treat you. You want me to work on changing, fine. I've already told you that I've done everything I can think of to change, but fine. I'll try again just for you. All I'm asking is that you give me space when I ask for it. That's it. But no, that's apparently asking for too damn much, isn't it?
You don't know when to back off. I thought it was just you being particularly bullheaded, but now I genuinely think that you don't understand. I need time to work through things on my own. I never wanted to tell you about Kimbley and what happened in my version of Amestris. Was it the right choice? Probably not. Would I have told you eventually? Yes. But no, you backed me into a corner and forced answers out of me; you have forced me into talking numerous times about things I didn't want to discuss. I chose to engage you in this argument, but this is one of the few times that I have actively had a choice in the matter.
Yes, I shriek at you and say things I never should say when we're arguing and yes, sometimes I do initiate the arguments. I'm not perfect. But for all those other times where I haven't wanted to discuss things with you and when I haven't wanted to get into an argument like this, you've constantly pushed me into it. Allow me to have my space when I ask for it. That's all I'm asking. I'll work on tempering my speech if you'll work on listening when I tell you to back off.
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[...And if it does, he can always just tell you later.]
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And this is what I was talking about earlier; everything is always my fault. You don't even once consider that maybe you're taking things a little too far. No. Because I said that I would be difficult to deal with, that obviously means that you should press me about every single little thing and never give me time to figure out what to say or how to properly express it. I'm in the wrong. As always.
That pisses me off more than anything else you do, Kimblee. You never admit you're wrong. Yes, yes, you're proud and all that, but so am I. Look at the number of times I've apologized to you. Yes, I've fucked up more often than you have and yes, I have owed you the majority of those apologies. The ones I haven't? I've apologized because I'm sick and damn tired of fighting with you. I just want it to be over.
But I'm not taking the blame for this. Not when you refuse to accept that you could possibly be wrong. If there's even a tiny margin, you'll take it and place the blame on everyone else. That doesn't fucking work, Kimblee. How have you not realized that by now? I've realized it, and I can be particularly thick. You have to accept some responsibility for the things you do! You can't just blame it on everyone else!
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...all right, semantics aside because I'm not getting into what you said and what you implied - I'm not blaming this on you in the first place.
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I don't see how that's not blaming me.
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[...Admittedly, he's kind of looking confused as well now, um...]
Look, the point is that the way you word things makes it sound like you're blaming me, even when you're apparently not.
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[...what even has happened here]
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