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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Your country's army must not be all that efficient if you and your real intent managed to slip past the radar for such a long time.

If you're claiming my real intent was the massacre of my superiors, you would be wrong there - bear in mind that my own agenda and that of my country's are not mutually exclusive.

[...yes, he is intentionally being as unhelpful as possible; he does this from time to time.]

No, I'm not. Relax.

What had you been hoping to accomplish since the day you began helping with the military operation?

[Gorthan understands! It's a fun pastime.]

I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say.

So you work for somebody.

Very good.

And here I deluded myself that someone of your power, intelligence and disposition would want to work independently. But I am also certain you were deriving certain benefits from the relationship with the individual or individuals who hired you - were you not?

Well, there's hardly a point in working for someone if there's no chance of benefit - as I've said, Equivalent Exchange is a principle that I find to be applicable to most, if not all circumstances.

So what does it take to earn your respect and obedience, I wonder? Ah, but you don't have to answer - I have heard enough from you for today.

I suppose it is my turn now.

You certainly have - I've been wondering when you planned to get on with it.

[Despite his words, however, his tone is more teasing than anything - no harm meant for now.]

Tell me about this development of yours.

[Gorthan clasps his hands together behind his back.]

Well. As we have previously established, I come from a militarist society, much like yours. With the exception that mine seems to be, judging by the information you have shared so far, far more efficient than yours. I am not merely singing the praises of my homeland, realize. I speak of very tangible, factual indicators of efficiency. Such as the fact that our wars would never last more than five years at worst.

One of the foundations of said efficiency is the fact that independent thinking and the emotional states leading to it are, respectively, outlawed and seen as the worst disease imaginable. Which brings me to point out that, as you can imagine, my country lacks literary endeavors, again much like yours. It is especially because of that, I believe, that a man who finds himself living in such a society should pursue the study of literature.

... You may say, however, that I ended up getting too close to what was foreign to me. I caught the disease.

[Kimblee's attention seems to be elsewhere for a moment at the start of that - Dorian has been becoming increasingly displeased at the fact that he is no longer receiving attention from anyone, and as such he starts pawing at the front of Kimblee's suit again, getting a bark out at him before Kimblee's hand is once again ruffling the fur atop his head lightly, eventually settling into a soft, steady stroking motion. However, he is listening to everything that's being said - that much is clear across his expression, even if he's not making eye contact, the light furrowing between his eyes indicating that he's mulling all that over.]

The outlawing of independent thought...that's certainly an interesting way of putting it. Dare I ask how such a thing would be enforced?

See, if your subordinates all share a hive mind, that makes both warfare and scientific research infinitely simpler. And I might be one of the topmost science authorities in my society, but I am still somebody's subordinate, who, in turn, is a direct subordinate to the Emperor.

The disease, which I was, unfortunately, unable to hide, eventually leads to the crime. All I had to do was disobey a couple orders. Shortly after that, I found myself having to combat my own brothers and children. I was eventually forced into exile and hiding, before the Imperial Council realized that my knowledge and skills were too precious to them.

[Of course, there's a whole adventure between the exile and the hiding.]

[Kimblee continues to pet the Vulpix in his arms, though to say that he's gone entirely silent wouldn't be correct; though he doesn't respond for a good long moment, there's some definite sound occupying the space between Gorthan's words and Kimblee's response. Clearly, he's become rather accustomed to the fact that somebody in Johto left the background music on; he's humming a quiet harmony to the tune that's constantly sounding off softly in the background while he considers.]

While I can't say that I can really fathom how this...hive mind that you're referring to is supposed to work or how it came about, in the end, that really is neither here nor there.

Tell me something, however - given what you know now, regarding this 'disease' and what it's like to have thought separate from the hive mentality - do you consider the efficiency of your homeland to be worth the cost?

I do. I believe it's worth it. So many of my people are simply, biologically unable to think independently. It is to them that we owe our existence as a society.

As for myself, I have transcended the system, originally in the pursuit of my own self-betterment, and found myself downgraded to an outcast. And, paradoxically, it was only when I became different from my people that I realized how much I have in common with them. See, I don't doubt that mine is an illness, because if many others beside me caught it, our society would simply cease functioning. And even though I may have occasionally acted like one, I am far from being a rebel.

[...Gorthan, bb, you crazy.]

Well, to each their own, I suppose.

And then there's the fact that many of my mutants and creatures went on to become actual rebels. Those who are still alive are confined to a prison colony, and I can't say I envy their state. The luckiest one among them is perpetually restrained. The others survive by constantly battling the rest of the prisoners day after day.

And these wars you've mentioned - those that go on for five years or less. Are they against these 'rebels,' or mostly in conquest of other nations? Somehow I doubt that the hive mind permits you to find much else to war over amongst yourselves.

Ah, no, those are conquest wars. Granted, rebel activity has increased lately, and I am afraid I have personally contributed to that statistic, in both direct and indirect ways. But we still remain the most feared military power in my world of origin.

Again, the hive mind is a rather excellent system. Sometimes I regret no longer being a part of it.

Well, I can't say that I sympathize with you at all. [...for...several reasons, not least of which is the complete lack of empathy as a whole, but that was an entirely unintentional bit of wordplay.] I won't say that I can't see how such a thing would benefit the military - given that I've seen combat myself, believe me, I can appreciate exactly how a hive mind would have benefited some of those I was working with quite a bit; let's put it that way.

At the same time, a lack of personal choice rather defeats the purpose of living to begin with, I think.

[By Evron, you are so Trauma.]

See, I can understand that point of view. One of my mutants in particular finds his freedom to be the spice of his life. Incidentally, he's also the one who lives under perpetual restraint. Trauma is his name. My most powerful and renowned creation. He's currently - how to put this? - undergoing maintenance.

And that's a tragedy; my condolences.

[And even though those are some very insincere condolences, you should probably be grateful that he extended them at all; normally he doesn't even bother with that much.]

I wouldn't consider freedom of choice to be the 'spice of my life,' as you put it; rather, personal choice is the reason we exist. I believe that what we do is what defines us, regardless of how we came to do it - I can understand where emotion may be seen as an illness, or at the very least a contaminant, though I don't necessarily agree one way or the other because whether emotion is truly a disease or not is a completely moot point. We behave as we see fit, and it is those choices that define what we are, and what we are defines our reason for existing.

Disregard, for a moment, the theoretical concept that all life has intrinsic value, as there's no way to say one way or the other whether it does or not. The idea of a soul, the idea of fate, the idea of a higher purpose - all based in theory and not fact. Judging by fact alone, then, what renders any one given individual in a hive-mind scenario any more deserving of life than another? Hypothetically, there is nothing that any given person can do that another couldn't be trained into doing. Everyone is replaceable in such a setting. And if everyone is replaceable, why do any of them, as individuals, need to exist? They contribute nothing except a number, and they fill a slot that could easily be filled by anyone else among the masses.

I don't believe that life has any intrinsic value, but that isn't a reason to render one's life entirely worthless, as it relates to the world.

Well, aren't you the individualistic sort. If you are to follow what I'm about to say next, I will need you to broaden your focus a little. Also, let me borrow your words for a moment - don't assume you know anything about my society besides what I'm sharing with you.

[Hell, he's still in the process of figuring out how to tell you that he was born from a pumpkin-like thing. More likely, you'll never hear it.]

Should I be thankful that my judgement was set free? I am, on some days. It has made me able to contest the Council's decisions and orders, not only for my own benefit, but for other people's as well. It's a big responsibility, a role, or "slot", to use your terminology, that not many before me have filled.

And on some other days, the social stigma simply hurts. But I doubt you'll understand what that means if you keep seeing the individual as self-defined, as opposed to defined by the relationship with society and the general environment.

So, yes, perhaps I am able to live my life at a fuller extent than before. But at what cost? ... Certainly, one that I do not wish for any of my brothers to ever pay.

My, my...I'm not sure whether you're trying to put words in my mouth or just completely missing the point, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume the latter - the individual is self-defined, yes, but assuming that the way society perceives what that individual has made of themselves has nothing to do with how the individual functions as a whole is idealistic to a fault. Again, bear in mind that I've undergone extensive psychiatric testing in order to be qualified as a State Alchemist; I'm also well aware that a fair few of my thoughts would have me labeled a heretic by most. While thoughts like that contribute to who I am as an individual, did I voice these thoughts during that evaluation period? Of course not.

Society's rules and society's viewpoints aren't to be disregarded entirely in pursuit of individualism; that sort of viewpoint is horribly immature. At the same time, I prefer having the freedom of choice to decide what to do in response to those rules and viewpoints. Is that better?

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002. [Text/Action for Route 44]

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