02x. [Action - Fourth Wall Event]

[explosivecombat]

[It's been a surprisingly explosion-free few days.

It's not that Kimblee doesn't enjoy having his alchemy back, as he certainly does. However, he doesn't have a proper outlet for it (..."proper") and there's that battle recently, odd and dreamlike and just kind of hovering on the outer edges of his memory - he suspects it wasn't quite a dream and there's been more than enough evidence to back that up, but really, there's not much to be done about it.

So he's restless as hell. Restless as hell is never a good thing.

Today he's got Ayanami out with him, and they appear to be exchanging blows; whether encouraging this with something that's actively tried to kill him in the past is a good idea or not is apparently of no consequence to him today, since he seems to be having a grand old time either way - the shocks she's sending at him are being countered with sharp snaps of his hands coming together and whips of energy detonating in midair when they connect with the electricity, and the explosions are loud and he isn't flinching at them in the least, and the look in his eyes is getting manic.]

Again - come now, you can do better than that!

[That's about the point when Ayanami decides to prove that she can, in fact, do better than that; she waits until the next time he fires off one of those explosive currents and promptly Mirror Coats him, and he's suddenly very, very grateful that getting kicked out of Johto for a month and a half seems to have done wonders for his spine because holy shit, nothing like having an explosion rebounded at you for double the damage, getting the hell out of the way is probably prudent.

But then the air clears and Kimblee is laughing like this is the greatest damn thing he's ever seen, and he's looking a bit of a mess but hey, at least he's happy, even if he's probably deaf as hell after that - ]

That's more like it; absolutely beautiful!

[...right. Well, either way, he doesn't seem to mind.]



[OOC: He can be run into just about anywhere because Johto is, as usual for these things, completely on the blink; he's going to be a bit...um, excited no matter where you happen to run into him because yay alchemy, but you are more than welcome to put him where you want him - he'll be ending up in Goldenrod after the event, however, so he'll definitely be there at some point!]

Comments

[dixiechick]

[Restless as hell is never a good thing, and she's long since learned to be afraid of laughter when it sounds like that.

A screw-up and a failure she might be, but somewhere in that empty head of hers she's still got some scrap of a self-preservation instinct, and that's why she's rather prudently hiding behind a fairly large outcropping of rock as all this business is going on, peering out with undisguised trepidation, wishing the painfully loud noises would cease. She likes it better when it's quiet — or, well, when it's peaceful quiet, at least. There's a different kind of quiet, too (that petrifying deadly quiet), and she likes that least of all.

And now, it seems, she's stuck with a nervewracking dilemma: she doesn't know where she is, but she's pretty certain she's not anywhere that she's supposed to be, and if she doesn't get back soon she's going to catch it, she just knows it. But she'd catch it worse if this man recognizes her and turns her in to the police, and while he seems like a criminal (given the explosions, and the laughter, and the dapper way he's dressed), that doesn't mean anything toward whether or not he's inclined to help her. On the contrary, he might do just the opposite, and cause even more trouble, and then she'll really be in for it.

Indecision grips her hard, and she's trying to keep her breathing steady and even, and what that ultimately means is that a short distance away there's a vaguely familiar face peeking none-too-subtly out from behind a moss-covered outcropping, worrying her lip as she tries desperately to figure out what to do.]

[explosivecombat]

[...None-too-subtly indeed.

Kimblee is in the middle of approaching Ayanami (sort of aware that she might just decide to blast his head off but he's pretty sure they're beyond that point, and besides, all the fun of standing on the edge of cliffs is the knowledge you might fall and this operates on a similar principle) when he notices her - he recognizes her immediately, because he always recognizes people immediately and at this point he likely couldn't forget or mistake her for anyone else if he tried, but he doesn't exactly catch her expression. It's Locke and for the time being that's enough, and if she's not approaching him there's surely a reason for it, and it's only when he's recalled Ayanami and has let his hair down, shaking it out before gathering that ribbon in his hair to tie it again (it's made a horrible mess of itself) that he realizes.

He's still coming down from a manic period; she doesn't like seeing him like that, surely, but she's never shied away from him when he's like that, either. She's too arrogant for that; she's always seemed under the impression that she can calm him. Last time she'd kissed him, for hell's sake.

Curious.

He doesn't look over at that spot where she seems to be hiding; he simply keeps his gaze downcast while he ties his hair up again.]

Playing coy today, are we?

[His voice is loud enough to be heard but it's light, the usual gentle placidity contrasting sharply with the tension still gripping his posture.]

[dixiechick]

[Oh, no. Spotted.

In her haste at backing up (which is more of a physical extension of a psychological response than anything else; it's not as though she knows where she'd go right now, anyway), her foot catches somewhere and she stumbles, pitching back for a hard landing on her tailbone, her legs a tangled mess beneath her.

Blast.]

W-What?

[What does she do what does she do?]

[explosivecombat]

[...that...um. Well. That...

...what.

He finishes what he's doing with his hair before starting in her direction - he's not the sort to go bolting over in concern to see exactly what Locke's malfunction is today, he'll get there when he gets there, thank you very much. But at least that means his approach is reasonably measured as opposed to just rushing the woman.]

You heard me.

[dixiechick]

[Get up get up get up — and she does in fact manage it, but there's something decidedly off about the way she's carrying herself, even when she does; they're roughly the same height in objective measure, but you wouldn't know it from the way she stands: shoulders lowered, head down, lip caught in a perpetual cringe.

The problem here is, she doesn't know what the right answer to the implicit question is, but she does know what happens when you make someone repeat themselves too many times. When you're too stupid to answer a simple, basic question. When you're—]

I'm sorry.

[That's...usually a good start. And at least he's not...sounding an alarm? Even though he's sort of acting like he knows her? But he hasn't identified her, he's just being familiar, so maybe...]

I think I took a wrong...turn.

[It's probably her fault, after all. It usually is.]

[explosivecombat]

[Speaking of repeating oneself - what?]

Why are you apologizing? You've nothing to apologize to me for.

[dixiechick]

[...Okay, is that one of those questions where she's not actually supposed to answer it, or...]

Because...

[...Um...no, really, wait for it...]

I'm...interrupting?

[That's usually a safe bet.]

[explosivecombat]

...Did you hit your head or something?

[dixiechick]

[And UP GOES HER HAND to rest against her head, like she's not sure.]

I-I don't th-think so...

[explosivecombat]

...You don't...

[...]

Locke, what is going on?

[dixiechick]

Who?

[...Oh. Oh, okay, she's got it now. Maybe.]

I...think you're thinking of someone else.

[explosivecombat]

I'm fairly sure I'm not - I don't forget faces, you know that.

[dixiechick]

[...Well, if that's not a sign to start backing away, she doesn't know what is. Hopefully she won't fall again.]

I don't know what you mean. I don't know you.

[explosivecombat]

[Wh...

And it's then that something seems to click, and the look in his eyes shifts a bit - more comprehending, less irritated - and he actually takes a step back from her, letting his expression settle into the usual placidity as he does so.]

...Of course. My mistake; you greatly resemble someone I work with closely back home. Have you only just arrived?

[Right. Okay. Let's see if he can work out what the hell is going on with this version because wow.]

[dixiechick]

Arrived?

[Uh-oh. Uh-oh...]

Who are you? Do you — do you work with Mr. Dixon?

[Not that anybody really works with Mr. Dixon, but there are assuredly other criminals out there, and this guy does have the look of one, and maybe he's...seen her picture...?]

[explosivecombat]

Mr. Dixon...I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name. Is he a colleague of yours?

[dixiechick]

[...Well. That just gets a blink. After all, hasn't everybody heard of him by now?]

He's the world's greatest thief. The most notorious...criminal in history.

[explosivecombat]

[And he just sort of stares for a moment, his expression wide-eyed and incredibly open; it takes him a second to make sense of it, but he...thinks he understands -

(some other version of you, a prodigy who can identify the chemical properties of anything just by laying his hands on it and turn anything he touches into a bomb, escaped from prison and lived with greed and best friends with archer, killed at the age of twenty-seven in a battle against scar)

...and even if he understands he's not sure what he should...do with it.]

Who are you, then...?

[dixiechick]

I'm C...

[But then all of a sudden she seems to crumple even a touch more than she is already, like she almost (almost) managed to muster the nerve to say it with some measure of pride, but then quickly remembered her place.]

I'm...Mason Dixon's henchwoman. C-Carmen Sandiego.

[explosivecombat]

[It's then that Kimblee comes to a conclusion: he doesn't know who Mason Dixon is, but if he ever meets him in this place, he is going to memorize his face. And he is going to spend every free moment he has - not in an obsessive way, mind you, but legitimately free moments, idle Tuesdays when he has nothing to do - coming up with new and creative ways of murdering this person, and then he'll hunt him down and test them out.

It'll be a project. His skills have been getting a bit rusty anyway.

But for now his expression settles, even if his gaze does not.]

Well, Miss Sandiego, it's a pleasure.

[dixiechick]

I need to get back...

[She actually glances over her shoulder here, like she's honestly expecting the man to roar up and bellow at her any moment now.]

I shouldn't...be here, I'm supposed to be reporting back...

[Fidget, fidget.]

Which way do I go?

[explosivecombat]

You'll be sent back home after a few days; it's how this place works. He won't notice you're gone; time doesn't pass back home.

[dixiechick]

...He'll notice.

[Timing is, after all, everything.]

[explosivecombat]

And if he does...?

[dixiechick]

[And here, for one brief and fleeting blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, there's a flash of something in her eyes that can really only be described as abject terror. It's fast like a crack of lightning, and in the next instant it's gone, but for a moment she's shaken and in the next she's forcing the word out as fast as she can.]

Nothing.

[He never does anything to her. He never does anything. And people always come back when he takes them out alone.]