explosivecombat | 002. [Text/Action for Route 44]

002. [Text/Action for Route 44]

[TEXT]

And a good evening to you, Johto.

Conversations with a few of you have shed some interesting light on opinions of exactly what it is we do here. The mandates we've received from the faceless entities that have brought us here make it very plain that we're supposed to humor them, to collect these 'badges' and essentially wander around for no real reason other than training these creatures and strengthening them - not so much a militaristic society as it is battle culture, if you will. However, others refer to these creatures as 'pets' or 'companions'; while I suppose the act of training these things may lead to bonds being formed, such people seem to have a different view of this world entirely.

I ask, then: from whatever standpoint you hold, be it one geared more toward companionship or more toward advancement - at what point does it become acceptable to you to release these creatures back into the wilderness? Surely there are some that aren't exactly battle-capable, or at least not as capable as others may be, and effort goes into their training; when do you decide that continuing to train them is no longer granting you benefit equal to the effort you're putting in?

I'll grant that "never" may be a perfectly valid answer, should your tendencies lean that way.

[ACTION]

[Well, whatever Kimblee was going on about before, it's clearly not affecting his relations with his own Pokémon any; he's currently standing beneath one of those trees on Route 43, though the white coat he's usually wearing makes him a bit obvious. He's always been a bit curious regarding what these things will do when not given orders, and he's keeping an eye on what appears to be a new member of his team from a distance; judging from the Swinub he's watching from a short distance away, apparently the answer is "generally snuffle about, and occasionally roll around for no real reason."

Of course, he seems to have another new one with him today - he did purchase two eggs from Xanxus, after all, and as a result Kimblee is now the proud owner of what seems to be the smuggest Vulpix on the planet.

...it doesn't help that Kimblee doesn't seem to have put the fox down since he hatched it, instead choosing to carry it around like a somewhat oversized cat. Seriously, Ernst Stavro Blofeld would look at him and tell him he's spoiling the damn thing.

His life, his choices, etc.]

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[...he'll tip his head a bit in acknowledgement of that first suggestion, but he doesn't comment; you have clearly not been around these creatures for very long.]

It certainly seemed that way; some of the creatures this man's companion had with him were apparently free of charge, so it would seem that they had a bit too much stock in that regard.

[...meanwhile, Vulpix likes you, good sir - you offer pettings and pettings are always okay!

Kimblee won't say anything about the talking to oneself that Gorthan tends to engage in, simply because he fails to find it odd; Kimblee pretty much spent seven years alone in the dark, in a cell about the size of a walk-in closet, and as such he's prone to all sorts of odd behaviors. As far as he's concerned, talking to oneself is pretty much standard.]

[Gorthan's tone becomes louder for a moment, before he finally seems to snap out of his momentary trance.]

... "One sees clearly only with the heart"... Ah, of course, can you remember that person's name?

I find that the profession of breeder has much in common with my own. I simply achieve more results, at a faster pace. The regular course of nature is far too slow and too balanced to cater to certain needs.

[He will pet the Vulpix a little more - now he understands why you keep in your arms like that. It's really warm and soft.]

... Incidentally, have you taken a look at the lake yet?

[...it takes Kimblee a moment to suss out exactly what was meant by that first sentence, there; after a moment, he seems to dismiss the first bit as connected to whatever rambling was going on there and focuses on the second.]

The breeder? I believe he used the name Xanxus. He was very abrasive, and his prices were high; I'll let you know whether they're worth the cost.

Your field of study does sound fascinating, I must admit, even if the concept of it is a bit beyond me; the chimeras in Amestris were interesting creatures as well. However, creation has never exactly been my strong suit.

[Pettings! Oh god pettings everywhere that is awesome and you should feel awesome have a lot of murrrrring noises because wheee]

...as for the lake, I have. Why do you ask?

I see. If I may, what was it about him that made you willing to risk getting the shorter end of such a deal?

[The affectionate noises... Gorthan actually loses his smug countenance for a moment, his eyes widening in almost childish surprise. There is just something about this situation which is simply and indescribably beautiful, and...

... and we're still right in front of a potentially dangerous person, so retaining dignity is still a priority. His cold, business-like expression will be back now.

As for the lake, um. Gorthan's never seen a lake from up close. Okay, he's seen plenty of lakes, hell, there are some on Evron, too. But blue lakes filled with dihydrogen monoxide are an Earth thing, and, so far, Gorthan has only ever watched them from screens and read about them in books.]

... I simply like lakes. This one is rather remarkable, don't you think?

[Well! Anything Kimblee was about to say regarding Xanxus goes rather out the window at that reaction to the Vulpix; it was brief, but he more than noticed it - after all, he makes a point of watching for things like that, even when he has no reason to have his guard up. Consider it an aftereffect from the war, if you like; otherwise, just know that photographic memories are very good tools to have when it comes to noticing differences.

That reaction was an incredibly open one, far moreso than what Gorthan usually gives him; that, combined with that latter response, actually gets a laugh out of him - though again, there's nothing mocking in his tone. Just. Amusement, really.]

Forgive me for that, but that was remarkably straightforward. Most seem to like justifying the things they appreciate - "I simply like this-or-that" isn't something you hear too often.

Although I can't say I agree with that thought on the lake itself - it's no more remarkable than any others I've seen, outside of, perhaps, being filled with creatures that have entirely too many teeth.

[Gorthan's eyebrows twitch with mild irritation at Kimblee's laugh. But he's also aware that, well, he should have seen it coming. He looks in the lake's direction - that means that the pettings are temporarily out of stock. Sorry Vulpix.]

If only the weather was nicer, one could swim in it, and...

[... Wait a second. That remark on creatures with teeth...? He quickly turns to face Kimblee again.]

... "Too many teeth"? Is there a story behind this idiosyncrasy of yours?

[Yes, well! After the condescension from earlier, let's just consider it even and call it a day.

...or not...although Kimblee doesn't seem too fazed by the question, simply because he'd known something of the like would probably be asked - after all, hearing something like that, he likely would have asked as well.]

I wouldn't call it an idiosyncrasy; I prefer to think of it as "a lack of desire to be mauled." It's a reasonably normal way to be if one wants to stay alive, I believe.

[His tone is light, as opposed to truly condescending; teasing, really.]

But you didn't say "creatures with a tendency to bite", or anything of the sort. You said something far more specific - "too many teeth". Placing your focus on a very specific physical characteristic as opposed to on the action itself. There has got to be a reason for that.

[Now we call it even!]

[Aha, that was a nice try! Very nice.]

Of course there is - that physical characteristic is what makes the biting a bad thing in the first place. I mean, say there was...I don't know, a Wooper with a tendency to bite. That would be more annoying than dangerous - I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly concerned about being gummed to death.

Very witty. But I still get the feeling you're not telling me the whole story. Ah, but I will not press. There's a time for everything.

In any case, if your fear makes it impossible for you to enjoy swimming in a lake, you have my deepest condolences.

[Not that Gorthan has ever swum in a lake... damn, why is it almost winter? Of course, "Can spring be far behind?", and all that.]

You're more than welcome to have all the feelings you want on the matter; just know that attempting to goad me by claiming this to be some sort of fear will get you about as far as pressing me does, especially since that sort of "fear" is simply a part of how humans are. It's a natural instinct to be wary of creatures larger than oneself, especially if those creatures contain full sets of fangs; this isn't a difficult concept.

[There are actually no implications intended by the references to human nature; it's simply how Kimblee speaks to people. Humans are what they are, and Kimblee observes them, and he talks about them like he doesn't belong among them. So it goes.]

Swimming is never something I've done much of, anyway; I can't say that I enjoy it very much.

[There's likely been a little misunderstanding, but Gorthan has to prove a point now.]

... Will you wait a moment?

[Regardless of Kimblee's reply to that, Gorthan will walk off - towards the Route 44 pond, because that is the "lake" that he meant - and return about five minutes later, with his clothes completely soaked, holding the ever-so-dangerous Pokémon Poliwag by the tail. It squeaks in fear, a little stupidly.]

Larger than yourself, and with a full set of fangs...?

[...all right, hold on. Kimblee is going to take his sweet time coming up with some sort of response, either physical or verbal; he has a lot of responses in his "Let's pretend to be a sane person!" arsenal, both appropriate and applicable to various circumstances, but once in a while a situation comes along that's either so horribly shocking or so blatantly stupid that he has no idea what to do.

Here's a hint: This one is not the former.

So Kimblee will just stand there for a good long moment, staring blankly and trying to figure out what to do with his face, because really? Really...?]

You...are aware that there's far more than that in the lake in question, right?

[Oh, look, words. There they are.]

[He lets the Poliwag go. Said Poliwag rapidly scuttles back to his watery home.]

Yes. This [He pulls out the Gear and holds it so Kimblee can see the Poliwhirl on the screen.] - notice the lack of a mouth - and this [The screen now shows Remoraid.], with the impressive number of no more than four teeth whose nature is probably cartilage-like and non-calcified.

[...okay, now he's just openly facepalming for a moment, excuse him.]

And if you took all of that data down in that pond over there, we aren't anywhere near on the same page.

[A moment of silence. Likely for the tragic loss of this conversation's normalcy.]

What were you thinking of, then?

[Kimblee cannot; he has lost all ability to Can. He cannot.]

It's called the Lake of Rage; it's a good walk from here, up Route 43, but it is in the area and reasonably accessible, assuming you're willing to deal with a good amount of tall grass along the way. It's far larger than that, I assure you.

It's also home to what appear to be six-metre sea serpents.

... Gyarados, perhaps? I have read something about them. I would love to meet them, but, ah, I suppose I won't be able to count on you coming along. Quite a shame, really.

I have read that their monstrous appearance awakens a fear so intense in their opponents that their attack power is decreased as a result, no matter how experienced or brave they might be. The ability to instill fear is true power - that is something I used to believe. Not anymore, however.

Fear is a primordial emotion. In a sense, it's proof that we are alive. If we are ashamed of our fears [There's the condescending tone again! Sorry, Kimblee.] and refuse to recognize them as such, how will we ever overcome them?

[...Gorthan. Sweetheart. Babycakes. You lose all of Kimblee's respect for the day once you somehow manage to mistake a pond for a lake. Wait for about 24 hours, then come back and try again, and maybe then he'll get irritated when you're condescending at him. For now, however, he's just greatly amused.]

Ah, but there's a difference between refusing to overcome fear and being rightfully wary, you realize. I won't claim to be fearless, but I have no interest in being particularly reckless when it doesn't serve me to be so.

And for what must be the hundredth time by now, do bear in mind that you don't know me, and that extends to what I've lived through.

[It's too big to be a pond! It's a small lake, okay? >: ]

I know that I don't know you. In fact, I'm merely waiting to hear your stories.

[...nope...nope, that is definitely a pond.]

And yet you continue to make assumptions about my motives and behavior - all of those assumptions have been almost endearingly incorrect, by the way; just consider it a reminder.

Although perhaps I'll humor you for now; shall we utilize Equivalent Exchange a bit further today?

Very well. But you will start this time. Simply share what you feel like sharing, and I will do the same, unless you have any objection to this mutual freedom.

Ah, but whatever I tell you is obviously more for your benefit than mine; do you really have no direction you would like me to take?

Ah, please don't believe that I intend to derive any practical benefit from this. I simply love a good story.

But since you mentioned your motives and my apparent inability to make assumptions regarding them, I'd love to hear you speak of them.

I don't think you're trying to interrogate me, if that's what you're getting at. But a 'good' story is generally one the listener wants to hear, I think - at the same time, I don't believe in laying any motives I may have out on the table like that. What I said about not believing in charity extends to any information I may give.

However! I see no problem with illustrating the point through these 'stories' and allowing you to form your own conclusions; you can either accept what I tell you as it is, or use such things to pass judgement on me if you like - it matters very little to me either way.

[...all right, where to start.]

There's a region in southeastern Amestris, basically in the middle of nowhere - it's surrounded by desert on all sides; the environment is very harsh and unforgiving. Nevertheless, people had settled there many years ago; it was its own country once, I believe, but that country came to an agreement with the Amestrian government and was annexed a fair while back. However, due to cultural differences, the region remained a point of contention; for one thing, they rejected the practice of alchemy altogether, claiming it to be an abomination in the eyes of their god, Ishvala.

Between that and the fact that there had been several conflicts between Amestris and the Ishvalan people that occurred before the annexation - well, it wasn't long before the inevitable happened. Almost fifteen years ago, an Amestrian soldier accidentally shot and killed an Ishvalan child; apparently this was a breaking point, as it led to rioting, and was what eventually started a rather blood-soaked civil war in the area.

[Of course, there's no need to mention the truly unpleasant things - like how the shooting wasn't an accident at all. And the fact that Kimblee works for the guy who did it.]

The Ishvalans were greatly outnumbered, but they managed to hold off the Amestrian military for quite some time; I believe they were receiving assistance from a country that borders Amestris to the south, a nation called Aerugo. Either way, they managed to draw the conflict out for seven years, at which time Fuhrer King Bradley gave the order for State Alchemists to be sent into Ishval as human weapons - something that had been avoided up to that point.

I was one of those sent to the front lines, and I was considered a valuable asset due to the nature of my alchemy; my primary task was the destruction of the Kanda district, one of the last regions still standing after the fall of the Gunja and Daliha districts.

I did as I was told, as that's what a soldier is expected to do.

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