03x. [Action - Fourth Wall Event]

[explosivecombat]

[A. Olivine City, outdoors.]

[Well, while usually at this point in the festivities the hills would be alive with the sound of shit gratuitously blowing up, it seems that Kimblee has found something else with which to occupy his time.

An...obnoxious, mulleted, poorly-dressed something.

The guy admittedly looks a fair amount like him in the face, except the eyes are decidedly wrong and he looks younger by a good amount; he's wearing a really poorly-fitting Amestrian military uniform, and judging by the way he that generally appears to give so few fucks that it ought to be criminal he doesn't seem too wigged out by suddenly being somewhere he's not supposed to be.

It seems he's done this before.

Of course, Kimblee himself has standing orders to kill this guy should the opportunity arise, and he fully plans on acting on those as soon as he's done doing...whatever it is they're doing outside of this café on this lovely Thursday afternoon; granted, he doesn't seem like he's in too much of a hurry to do it right now, especially since they have exactly one knife between the two of them and the moron with the mullet currently has possession of it. Kimblee currently has his left hand splayed out on the table, watching whatever this other guy is doing with it; he looks like he's stabbing something over and over again.

Upon closer inspection, it seems that knife is darting in and out from between Kimblee's fingers; it seems that they have an obscenely fast two-player version of the Knife Game going, and Kimblee seems way too fascinated by a game including the prospect of this guy possibly missing and stabbing him in the hand, and when the guy he's with finishes off the round he simply passes the knife across the table and sets his own left hand down, splaying his fingers out to let Kimblee have a go.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why we don't allow weapons in Route. Idiots bond over them.]


[B. Just about anywhere.]

[...of course, that isn't going to last long, and for the rest of the weekend the hills are going to be alive with the sound of shit gratuitously blowing up. But hey, this time they're blowing up to the general tune of science.

It seems Kimblee has found a few errant shards of crystal; upon discovering that they do...well, a lot of nothing to actually power his alchemy up (because you never know), he's doing the next logical thing and infusing them with energy just to see what's going to happen.

The crystals absorb that odd blue energy from his hand easily enough; it's what happens next that's a bit alarming - at a distance it looks like they just sit there for a while, but at a bit closer range it's obvious that that energy is just bouncing around inside the gem, becoming more and more volatile the longer it's allowed to do so, and beyond a certain point...well, it's hard to say because Kimblee promptly throws it with great force, and as soon as it's gone it explodes in all its magnificent crystal-shrapnel glory.

...He's got a couple of small cuts on his face from when he threw one of those shards straight up; needless to say, he's not doing that anymore, though he doesn't seem to mind the blood. We throw outwards, not up, clearly.]




[OOC: The idiot in question in scenario A is Kimblee's 2003 counterpart, who's sort of a hot mess; if you want to yell at one of them in particular, specify which and the mulleted wonder will be replying from alchemicals.

Otherwise, the second scenario can be literally wherever you want him - happy fourth-wall, everyone!]

Comments

[explosivecombat]

[Yes, yes, it's all fun and games until someone loses all the nerve endings in their hand, then it's their own damn fault for putting their hand on the table to be stabbed. He knows.]

Of course, Archer.

[That said, he's still offering a rather sardonic expression even as he moves to comply with what he's told; granted, he doesn't do it in any sort of normal fashion - he slams the knife down hard, burying the tip of it in the table between Kimbley's middle and ring fingers - but he folds his hands in his lap immediately once that's out there, sitting there placidly like none of that just happened and the knife isn't still sticking out of the table at a 90 degree angle.]

Better?

[sadisticwarfare]

[Kimblee. Kimblee, you're talking to Archer. Asking him if things are better is never a good idea.]

Don't do that again, either of you! Someone's going to lose a finger or something and I am not going to deal with that.

[...In other words, yes, that's much better.]

[alchemicals]

...So you're saying it's a lot better. Got it.

[If you think he's not calling you on your shit, Archer...]

[sadisticwarfare]

No, I'm not! I'm saying you never should have done anything like that in the first place! That's--!

[...sigh.]

...Yes, yes, it's much better, alright?

[alchemicals]

[...He has you so whipped, bro.]

Hey, look at it this way - if we wanted to stab each other, we wouldn't do it in such a roundabout way. So it's not like we want to see somebody lose a finger, we just want the chance to accidentally chop one off.

[explosivecombat]

...Do us all a favor and never open your mouth again.

[The most placid motherfucker at this table.]

[sadisticwarfare]

[...Kimbley...]

Right, of course. I really should have seen that coming.

[Just let him pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh dramatically again. What is he going to do with you?

...He's not going to contradict Kimblee, however, because he totally agrees.]

[explosivecombat]

Ah, Archer...am I to assume those orders you gave me no longer stand, then? Since you're so concerned with the well-being of our hands.

[You know. The orders. The ones he's explicitly not mentioning so the fucking idiot across the table will surely grill you on them later? Those orders. Right.]

[sadisticwarfare]

[Dammit, Kimblee, you weren't supposed to say anything about them! You were supposed to magically know exactly what Archer's thinking! Ugh, rude.]

...Yes. Thank you for not acting on them immediately.

[The thanks is stilted and more than a little awkward, but at least it's there?]

[explosivecombat]

[Sorry, his psychic powers aren't working today, clearly.]

And would you prefer I leave the both of you to it, or do you want me to stay around?

[sadisticwarfare]

I have some things to talk to Kimbley about. I'll give you a call later.

[...He really appreciates it, even if he's not going to say it.]

1/2

[explosivecombat]

Of course.

[And with that, he will consider himself summarily dismissed for the day and leave you two to it.

...that knife is still sticking awkwardly out of the table, by the way.]

[alchemicals]

[...]

...What did you do to him? He acts like your butler.

[sadisticwarfare]

What did I--? I didn't do anything to him!

[Way to sound defensive there, Archer.]

He's always been like this.

[...]

Well, not at first; he hated me at first.

[True friendship right there.]

[alchemicals]

...that's kind of a trend with you.

[Kimbley.

Either way, just let him take that knife and gesture to the chair Kimblee just vacated.]

So. You gave him orders?

[sadisticwarfare]

[It... really is, isn't it...]

Ah, about that...

[Archer glances around. This probably isn't the best place to discuss... well, everything they're about to discuss.]

Perhaps we should go somewhere more secluded.

[alchemicals]

[Oh.

Well, this sounds interesting. Maybe.]

Sure, if that's what you want. Lead on, I guess.

[sadisticwarfare]

[Archer leads Kimbley to the hotel and gets a room without any issues. He shuts the door behind them and leans back against it, arms folded. His posture is mimicking Kimblee's usual stance, but he's not aware of that.]

I take it you remember what happened the last time you were here.

[That's as good a place to start as any, he figures.]

[alchemicals]

[Kimbley doesn't seem to mind whatever Archer's doing with his stance, though something twinges unpleasantly at the back of his mind at the fact that he's blocking the door; he just allows himself to flop down backwards to sit on the bed, propping himself up with his hands and trying to look as casual as possible about the whole thing.]

With the automail, yeah. It's a bit hard to forget.

[sadisticwarfare]

[Archer doesn't flinch at the mention of the automail, but his grip tightens a bit where his arms are folded.]

That's what I thought.

[...]

I wasn't pleased with how things went.

[To understate it horribly.]

I didn't appreciate the fact that you considered blowing me up.

[Oh look at that, did he just say what's bothering him instead of waiting for you to figure it out??? What has the world come to??]

[alchemicals]

[Wow, look at you! Being all socially competent and shit. He's almost proud.

...That said, uh.]

It's not like I did it. If I'd really wanted to, you know I wouldn't have stopped at "considering" - I would have just gone ahead with it. It's not like I ask permission.

[sadisticwarfare]

[Don't mock him!!]

I know how you operate, yes. That said, you still considered killing me. That bothers me; I can't understand why you would ever consider killing me, regardless of what condition I'm in.

[alchemicals]

...Are you actually surprised by this? You?

[sadisticwarfare]

You expected me not to be? You're one of the few people I would consider a friend and you just--!

[He can kind of understand what Kimbley means; obviously he was willing to betray Greed, so killing Archer isn't exactly a stretch, but. It's Archer. He's a special snowflake, why don't you understand this, Kimbley.]

[alchemicals]

[Something dark flashes behind his eyes; his gaze darts toward the door again before he refocuses on Archer's face.]

So why don't you tell me about those orders that you gave the other one. The ones you're glad he didn't act on right away.