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]

[...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.]

[explosivecombat]

[For the briefest of moments something in his gaze shifts; it sharpens, and he's fully aware of what that pushed-out word means, and it sends a bolt of something dark and cold through his system before he can really work out why.

But the moment passes, and he's tilting his head a little at her again, and he's smiling as though nothing had just happened.]

Come with me, then, and we'll see about helping you get back. If you'd like I'll go back with you, and put in a good word to Mr. Dixon. No harm done.

[Come on, we're going this way, and you're getting a gesture indicating that you'd best follow.]

In the meantime, tell me about yourself, Miss Sandiego.

[dixiechick]

[She's...not really sure she likes the way he's looking at her, there (he's smiling, but she's not sure if he's really smiling, if that even makes sense at all, and she's not sure if it does), but she knows an order when she hears one and he's...at least seemingly trying to help her out, and goodness knows she could use a good word every once in a while. Every little bit helps.

And so she follows along, obedient as ever, preoccupying herself with the admittedly difficult task of trying to come up with something about herself worth even saying.

...

It takes her a while.]

I'm...he came to get me out of prison about...a few years now. I still...I almost always get caught, still, but it's always...all right. Even when I'm a f...

[She swallows.]

He always forgives me. So I...I must still be useful. I can be useful, still.

[explosivecombat]

[That cutoff is odd for him; it's been a while, but spending so long in the military has ensured that the word she cut off registers as "fuckup" in his head, and it's so uncharacteristic that he glances over at her.]

Were you in prison? I've been there myself; I spent many years in solitary confinement - it's unpleasant business.

[He pauses for a moment, more to consider what he's about to say than genuinely hesitating; he's able to keep his tone even when he continues.]

My employers ensured that I got out as well eventually...so believe me, I understand needing to be useful for one's employers.

[dixiechick]

[She nods, somehow a little glad to hear that he's been to prison, too. Evidently he'd handled it much better than she had, but still, there's...there's something to it. Like maybe he's just a little better situated to understand, somehow, or like there's a chance they might be a little closer from the rapport of the shared experience.

A slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. And she can hope.]

We were stealing a Rembrandt. He...he knew better, and got away, and I was headstrong and got caught. Now he runs the criminal empire, VILE. I still go back to prison sometimes, but never for long.

[explosivecombat]

[...hmmm...]

Because he breaks you out of prison again, I'd imagine. And then he forgives you.

[dixiechick]

[She nods again.]

It's an awful lot of trouble to go to, but...