explosivecombat | 004. [Text/Action for Goldenrod City]

004. [Text/Action for Goldenrod City]

[ACTION]

[Three days gone, with no explanation.

Kimblee had awakened strangely on Tuesday, feeling as though he hadn't slept much at all, and throughout the day he'd been unable to shake it - it's the same sort of feeling he gets when when he's been overstimulated, maybe, or spent time on a particularly difficult assignment. He would have chalked that up to a simple failure at restful sleep - he's not immune, and it happens - but then he'd checked the Gear for the time and date.

Three days gone. No memories from those three days whatsoever.

That. Doesn't. Happen.

He'd spent most of the day more wary than usual; he doesn't like this any, nor does he like the fact that there's nothing he can do about it. Even the normal solace he finds in sound isn't coming to him; he usually finds the music in Johto to be a nice constant, but now it's just grating on him - hell, he can't even be sure that anyone else is hearing it at all, and that's no use to him whatsoever.

Bluntly put, he's been feeling disoriented, Johto makes next to no damn sense as it is, and this entire thing is leaving him just a bit irritable and not wanting to stay in one place for very long. So! Today he's out wandering around Goldenrod; he doesn't seem too terribly bothered by the snow, though the heavy coat he has on over his suit and the long, pale scarf he has wrapped around his neck and shoved into his collar is definitely helping, as are the gloves he usually wears. He's determined to find something to clear his head; after a while, he finds himself in front of a building that's both stupidly loud and gaudily done-up. He kind of tilts his head at it for a moment; the place is pretty much an exercise in sensory overstimulation, isn't it.

It's perfect.

He pauses for a moment before entering; the music playing softly through the streets is the same as it always was. He doesn't want to ask if anyone else is hearing it; that's just asking for trouble. However, there are ways to get some sort of response without asking directly. He pulls out his Gear briefly, sending out a quick message via Text before entering that...casino. Game Corner. Thing.]

[TEXT]

Has anyone been able to locate the source of the incessant stream of music, or is that another of those mysteries that we're encouraged to not think too much about?

[OOC: Action-wise, you're more than welcome to catch him outside the building itself...otherwise, he fully intends to spend the next good while wanting to kill a slot machine in the face, so he won't exactly be hard to meet up with if he's seen.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ His texts. They are getting shorter and shorter. Mostly because, what the hell is this texting thing anyways? The screen is small, the keys are small... boy, does he sound like an old man already... ]

Oh?

[If that means he's an old man, then they can be old men together; Kimblee spent quite some time when he arrived here generally annoyed at the text function. He's gotten better with it, though he tends to prefer face-to-face interaction with those he actually knows; text is better for those he doesn't want seeing his face for whatever reason at the time.]

Not really, anyway. Most of my dreams center around humans, Hughes, not |

[How to describe this? Hang on...]

...creatures that my mind has chosen to make up. These weren't chimeras, either, as I could tell.

[ What...? ]

Creatures? Creatures that aren't Pokemon, you mean?

[ what are you on, Kimblee? ]

Yes. The details are hazy, which is another thing that usually doesn't happen, but when it comes to descriptions you likely wouldn't believe me if I told you.

Oh, do tell

No, no, believe me, that's quite all right.

[You can probably feel the force of his orz through the screen, good god.]

[ But... he's curious. He wants to know... ]

It's starting to sound like you just ate something bad Friday night!

Shall I assume you just got horrendously drunk and we can call it even, then?

I would much rather prefer that, I think.

[...oh, facepalm.]

Clearly, one of Amestris' finest on the Intelligence division.

Why, thank you!

[ But really, think about it, Kimblee. ]

At least then, there would be evidence of my weekend.

[...oh. Well. He sees what you did there.]

...and yet there's nothing whatsoever.

[ What...? He's intelligent enough... ]

Yes, that is what bothers me.

[Yes, well, he's realizing that.

...again.

...Johto, you are a jerk.]

...where are you? Somehow I doubt this should be continued here.

[ He's tempted to type you a message being all, "Oh? You want to see me? :D" but he won't... ]

Goldenrod. In the apartment I woke up in. You?

[...Hughes, you are going to break his brain solidly one day by mock-flirting with him, aren't you?]

Goldenrod as well - at that incredibly gaudy casino, it's a bit hard to miss.

[...or, well, perhaps he'll just break his own brain with the implied "My place or yours?" here, whatever.]

[ ... no need to. There are easier ways of breaking your brain. Like, shoving a picture of Gracia in your face. ]

I think I know where. These things might be better discussed in a more private place. I'll send you the address in another message.

[ ... apparently, he's just invited you over to his place, Kimblee. ]

Excellent.

[Don't worry, Hughes, he doesn't intend to show you up - he'll be there.]

[ What is it with those pesky character limits of these messages, anyways? What does this thing have against long messages?

There, he's sent the address. It's only really a few houses down.

And, he'll even make tea for the two of you. Because theorizing is best done over tea, yes? That, and that's really the only thing he knows how to make. Because... boiling water, and then pouring it over tea leaves. Yes. ]

[...god, Hughes, your skill at cooking rivals Kimblee's own.

Either way! You will have a Kimblee within a few minutes, because honestly, you seem vaguely interested in discussing this whatnot and it's not something Kimblee gets to do very often - Archer is often a literal thinker who prefers to put blinders on when it comes to anything weird in this world, and he doesn't exactly get to talk to many other people in person. So! Hello there, knocking is good, how's it going.]

[ ... well, who needs to know how to cook when they have A BEAUTIFUL, LOVING, DOTING WIFE who is the best cook around?

Ah, well, Maes may have a strange deja vu feeling about the idea of theorizing with you, has he walks over to open the door. He's not sure why, though. But, as much as he likes to shirk responsibility, he does actually want to figure out what's going on. And you seem like someone who may be able to help. ]

[...are you hinting again, Hughes? Because there are some people that just shouldn't marry. Kimblee is one of them.

As it stands, you aren't the only one experiencing that weird sense of déjà vu, though Kimblee shakes it off quickly enough as the door opens into that apartment; it bothers him, he's not going to deny that to himself - hazy half-memories are not something that happens to him, flat-out - but he'll ignore it in favor of pleasantries for now.]

Well, well. A pleasure as always, Lt. Colonel.

Yo!

[ He steps back to let Kimblee in, and then closes the door behind him. Elsie the Eevee, who had been sitting on the bed all the time Maes had been working out his thumbs through texting, now jumps off and comes to curiously check Kimblee out. Are you going to be friendly, or will she have to growl at you some more like she did the last few times you've met? ]

[Well, Elsie, you're not being useless today, and he won't...intentionally upset your trainer on this particular round, so we'll see!

As it stands, however, he takes a quick glance around the apartment as it enters; this is somewhat awkward, as being in someone else's residence isn't something Kimblee does often - he hasn't exactly visited anyone since he'd left prison, as he was constantly rather busy after that, and now...well. It's not much of an option, is it.

But that's unpleasant business, and he's not here for particularly unpleasant business today; he'll follow Hughes' lead when it comes to exactly what he's supposed to...do now that he's in here, but he makes it plain quickly enough that he's not necessarily here for friendly chitchat, either.]

I suppose we should start by ascertaining exactly what it is we've lost - are you aware of any other holes in your memory, or is it just the last three days?

[ Well, technically this isn't really his residence, so it's all okay, Kimblee.

Either way, Maes is going to grab himself a cup of tea. The pot and a cup are on the table, so you're free to do so as well. He sits down in one of the chairs and motions toward the other one. ]

No, just these last three days.

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/o/ action forever, 'cause I'm lazy

this works!

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