explosivecombat | 03x. [Action - Fourth Wall Event]

03x. [Action - Fourth Wall Event]

[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!]

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[Someday, she might wonder why it seems as though there are always explosions heralding her arrival to this place, but to do that she'd have to have the security of a place and time where there aren't explosions going off all around her, so it's certainly not going to be now.

She remembers being here, vaguely; she remembers there were explosions then, too. But these ones come with the unusual skittering of shrapnel scattering when they explode, and so she finds herself hiding behind an outcropping of sorts again — this time not so much from the man or the sound, but simply out of self-preservation because he's unknowingly throwing those close enough to her that ducking under cover is really becoming necessary at times.

What she ends up doing, probably, is stupid. But she's never been the best at plans (she almost always gets caught at them, after all), and it's the only one she has, but she's scared and there's blood on his face and the only way that adds up is that whatever these things are he's throwing, she really needs to get him to stop.

So she waits until one of those charged shards leaves his hand — that's when she'll have the most time, she thinks, between the one he's just thrown and the next one being primed — and seizes that chance to dart out from behind her rock and run at him. It occurs to her along the way how stupid it is, really, because that means there'll be an explosion going off at her back when she's not under cover to hide from it, but she's committed now and there's nothing to do but keep running at him and follow through with her admittedly shabby plan of just outright trying to tackle him to the ground, because if nothing else then at least he'll stop throwing those things.

And so she goes.]

[He's paying more attention to the shard than his surroundings, but that doesn't mean he's completely unaware of what's happening, nor does he really miss the woman in grey suddenly rushing toward him; he doesn't have much time to really think about why Locke is dressed so strangely or where he's seen it before (though he knows for a fact that he has) before there's an explosion and she seems like she's going to tackle him, and of all course of actions she could have taken that's really very stupid and not something he would associate with Locke of all people -

...and that's about when it clicks in, that he's seen the grey and this particular brand of stupid in the same general area before and it was during one of these weird weekends, and he's just going to take this opportunity to jerk back and out of the way and pray that he can dex for shit today when he tries to grab her, both to stop her in general and keep her from faceplanting on the ground.

Because somehow he thinks she'd cry or something, and he is not in the mood to try to fix that today.]

[In the end, he manages about half of it successfully: she doesn't react fast enough to correct for her trajectory when he gets right the hell out of the way, but she does notice that he's done it quickly enough to try to correct for it, which obviously leads to a big awkward semi-flailing mess what with him trying to grab her and her trying to...well, do anything productive, really, and then there is an explosion and she shrieks and, well.

The good news is, she doesn't faceplant, though she does end up in a vaguely sitting position on the ground with her legs a little awkwardly tangled and one arm practically vertical, owing to the fact that he's got hold of it and that was where she pivoted somehow along the way and in the end, he did in fact grab her, she just...made a mess of it, as usual.

...And as a credit to her apparent burst of willpower, she's not crying. Yet, anyway. If anything, she just looks sort of dazed, probably more from the fall than the explosion.]

[...She tried.

Well, at least she's not in tears, nor is she on her face; just...let him move into a position that's a little less awkward in relation to the way she's landed, though he's still not letting go of her arm just yet.]

Are you all right?

[If she had her way, she'd be asking questions of her own, instead — what are you doing, and possibly did you know there's blood on your face — but of course, her way doesn't matter and she's been asked a direct question, so that's really that, isn't it.]

I-I'm fine.

[...ah, yes.]

I'm sorry.

[...Oh, boy. Yes. This again.]

You don't have anything to apologize for.

[...]

Nor do you have to apologize for apologizing, to save us both some time.

[Bless this man.]

Yes, sir.

[...Well, since she's not really sure what to do with the subsequent opportunity to speak after that acknowledgement, and sitting around with her arm still caught seems a little silly, she supposes she might as well just...]

You cut your face.

Ah, did I...?

[It likely says something about the state of mind he's been in when that's what gets him to actually realize that yes, in fact, he did, and he's still bleeding a bit from it; he reaches up with his free hand, vaguely thankful that he's barehanded today, and sure enough his fingertips come away red, and right, well.]

...It's nothing to worry about, anyway; I wasn't expecting quite that much shrapnel the first time.

Don't do that, they'll get dirty.

[Whether she means his fingers or the cuts, it's hard to say, but she's at least trying to get herself up off the ground now.]

You should go back into town and have it looked at.

[...wait.]

M...Maybe.

[...Right, let him just adjust his grip for a moment and...up you go, okay.]

Is it concerning you that much, then?

Well, it...it looks like it hurts...

[Given the way she's fidgeting, her body language is far more solid an affirmation than her words.]

[...Locke...]

Come with me, then.

Yes, sir.

[At least there are no more explosions, and the last time she followed him he let her steal a motorcycle. She's heard more sinister "come with me"s in her life, and this isn't one of them.]

What were those things? Grenades?

Not exactly, no.

[And he reaches into his pocket where he's been keeping the things, and when he moves to show her what it's got it's far smaller than one would think, a pink crystal that reflects light in various ways and is really rather pretty, but generally doesn't look too remarkable outside of that.]

There's a far larger one in town; I'll show you.

Oh...

[She half-reaches for it, caught up in the way the light plays off the facets; it looks like something she might've aspired to steal, once, and something that she probably still would now, but nowadays she wouldn't get to keep it, of course, and it'd only be sold off for someone else to covet, anyway.]

I've never heard of a crystal doing that before...

It's a reaction from an outside source, not just the crystal itself. You can hold it and it'd be perfectly safe.

[...And since he doubts her ability to take a damn hint:]

Go ahead.

[WELL THANK GOODNESS HE SAID SO BECAUSE NOPE, SHE WOULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN IT WITHOUT THE HELP]

So it just holds it. And amplifies it, maybe.

[She's so busy taking the crystal to look it over, she actually doesn't realize she just let a bit of absentminded intelligence slip.]

It'd be easy to hurt someone with something like this, wouldn't it...

[WAS THAT A VAGUE HOPE SPOT JUST NOW...]

It would, if someone got it into their mind to do so.

[...now that he's said that she had better not throw the thing.]

You could make it into jewelry, I guess. Have them wear it and no one would know. Well, they would, but...

[Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope train of thought needs to go somewhere else now, thanks.]

I wonder what good things you could do with it, too.

...I wouldn't know, really. I've never specialized in creation.

[...something you'd think would be obvious, given all the explosions and whatnot, but.]

[Whoops, that just got a "you done fucked up" reaction out of her; looking alarmed again, she clams right up, ducking her head and keeping her eyes on the crystal.]

R-Right...

[Oh, well, that's...something.]

What's troubling you?

N...Nothing. They're perfect for...explosions.

[So clearly that's what they ought to do, and alternative innovation can sit down and shut up.]

Are you going to do that to the larger one, too?

Probably not, since I don't have anything personal against the city that it's in, and somehow I doubt they would appreciate that very much.

[Which is surprisingly rational, given how he tends to treat the cities around here, but clearly nothing has gotten him worked up to a LET WAR COME TO GOLDENROD extent lately.]

[ :|a ]

So we're just going to...see it?

[If there is a catch here, she certainly can't figure out what it is.]

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