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.]

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I should think you wouldn't find us that interchangeable.

[...that's one of those things that he likely shouldn't have said, isn't it]

...

[...Yep. That was one of those things you should have kept to yourself, Kimblee.]

[RELEASE THE KRAKEN!]

I do not find you interchangeable! You two may have your similarities, but that's it! I would never replace him with anyone! Why the fuck would you ever imply something like that!? You don't mean half as much to me as he does!

[...Shrieking histrionics are always fun, aren't they? And yes, he can manage to screech all this in one breath. He's amazing like that, okay.]

Don't you fucking dare accuse me of that sort of shit!

[And for a good, long moment there's silence; the sudden outburst has clearly startled him, but that isn't the entire reason for the pause. There's a lot to take in there, buried under what Archer just said - implications, mostly, but the conclusion seems obvious.]

That's what he said to you, wasn't it.

[It isn't exactly a question, Archer.]

In this dream of yours...he said you were replacing him with someone else. Is that it?

[The silence doesn't do anything to calm him down, but Archer doesn't continue shrieking either. He normally has better control over himself, or he can at least act like he does. He can't stop the tightening of his fists or the tremors. If he was closer, he'd haul off and hit Kimblee. This isn't the one he's used to, and hitting this one just seems like a terrible idea. Still, he'd do it anyway. He needs to take his frustration out on something or someone after all.]

[Finally Kimblee speaks and Archer's fists tighten. Whatever eye contact there might have been before is broken, and Archer's glaring off somewhere to the left, mouth set in a tight frown. There isn't any verbal answer, but the fact that he's still shaking and looking pissed as hell ought to serve as enough of an answer for Kimblee.]

[It's not a direct answer, no, but it did tell Kimblee exactly what he'd wanted to know, and he's satisfied with it; Carlisle is decidedly less so, shifting his weight a bit and making a bit of an agitated noise. Kimblee can't say that he doesn't understand why - you could cut the tension in the air with a knife, and that tension is a large part of the reason why he isn't recalling Carlisle in the first place. He reaches out to place a hand against the creature's side, a clear indication that he should settle a bit, but otherwise?

Let's just say that hitting Kimblee is a very bad idea indeed, Archer.]

Didn't I tell you that there would be another outburst?

[His tone isn't mocking or cruel, even though it's clear that the question is a rhetorical one; however, it isn't gentle, either. Just very calm.]

I do believe you, you know. When you say you aren't replacing him.

[Archer doesn't respond to the first statement. Yes, of course Kimblee was right. That's only because he was provoked though...! No, okay, Archer does actually agree with Kimblee here; there's no way to pin the blameon anyone else here, unfortunately. That said, he's not going to acknowledge it. Kimblee knows he's always right anyway.]

[It's the second statement that puts Archer at ease though, and he folds his arms slowly.]

Of course you should. I would never replace him.

[There's something in his tone there that makes it sound a hell of a lot more intimate than it should have been, and Archer quickly continues.]

Don't accuse me of anything like that again.

I didn't accuse you of anything in the first place. What I meant was that I would think you would remember which of us you were speaking to; you seem to have come up with the actual accusation on your own.

[Kimblee's own voice is still incredibly blank, tone-wise; there's none of the usual levity behind it, but at the same time, he's refraining from any sort of sharpness or pointed cruelty. Just statements.]

Tell me about this discussion you had with him. I think it would be good for me to know exactly what I should avoid from now on, don't you?

[And once again, Kimblee's right.]

You could have found a different way to phrase it, then.

[But he won't dwell on that. Archer's not entirely sure what to think about that curiously blank tone, but the fact that Kimblee isn't openly mocking him is certainly appreciated.]

...I suppose so. I'd rather not discuss it out here.

[Because it's cold. Maybe there will be some sort of distraction and he won't have to discuss it if they take their time returning to Kimblee's room...? Probably not, but he can hope, right?]

Don't blame me for your lack of self-control.

[And that's where the evenness cracks a bit, a distinct coldness lacing through his words; though he's remaining calm, he isn't pleased.

Either way, however, he recalls Carlisle; he smiles a bit at Archer once he's done so, though the expression stops short of being sincere.]

Shall we, then?

[Come on, then. He's not negotiating.]

[Damn. There's no getting out of this. Archer follows Kimblee anyway; there's no sense in trying to ditch him. Kimblee's persistent, he'll get this out of Archer eventually.]

[He doesn't say anything when they return to Kimblee's room though, instead playing with the sleeves of his jacket absently. Clearly they're the most fascinating things in the world right now.]

[Kimblee ensures the door is closed firmly behind them; again, he remains standing near the door as opposed to sitting down, his back against the wall, his positioning casual.]

So, this dream of yours...?

I believe I've mentioned before that we were... close back home.

[Maybe he does want to talk about it on some level. The words come easily, anyway.]

The majority of the dream reflected that. It certainly felt very real. Toward the end though... He... said something that... Well, it bothered me.

[A pause; Archer knows he's not getting away with stopping there, and he will continue after a moment.]

He blamed me for what happened in Liore.

[Kimblee allows Archer to speak without interruptions, though he tilts his head at that last part, cocking it slightly to the side before he seems to realize what he's doing and correcting the behavior. Archer's never verified exactly what it is that he's talking about now; surely he realizes that.

However, the longer Kimblee thinks about it, the more he realizes that Archer doesn't have to. "Replacing" someone as a friend is one thing, but Kimblee has made it plain that he and Archer aren't friends - that's part of the reason why that outburst was so startling. Kimblee has never claimed to mean more to Archer than anyone else, and he hadn't been sure why it would even be an issue.

But say something had happened in Liore. Perhaps not to Archer, but to his friend - something drastic enough to remove said friend from Archer's life. That wouldn't make the accusation one of emotional replacement, but one of...literal replacement, wouldn't it?

Archer isn't reacting with anger toward his friend, either, so it surely wasn't a fight between them - say, one bad enough to make them cut ties with each other. No, Kimblee is suspecting that the removal was something decidedly more...permanent.

Oh.]

...go on.

...That's it. I don't remember anything else. He accused me of knowing what was going to happen or... or not putting in enough effort to help him.

[Archer knows he's never verified exactly what happened to Kimbley, but at this point it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that he's gone out of his way to ignore the fact that Kimbley is dead. He is dead; that's the ultimate issue. There's nothing that can be done to alter that.]

And was that the case?

[There's no accusation behind his words; it's a question that happens to be relevant. He knows that it's being perhaps too optimistic to believe that Archer will take it as such, but again, his tone isn't a cruel one, having shifted back into carefully deliberate blankness.]

[Archer tenses immediately, glancing over at Kimblee with that question. He's still not very good at reading this version of the alchemist, but the blankness in his tone implies that it's not an attack, right? Still, he doesn't answer the question for several minutes, evaluating Kimblee instead.]

[When he finally does speak, he still sounds on edge and like he's about to start screeching.]

Of course it wasn't. What the hell do you take me for, Kimblee? If I had known what was going to happen of course I would have done everything in my power to stop it. There are always casualties in war. I know that. I was fully prepared for that. But I still needed that damn alchemist...!

[There. He's admitted it. Kimbley's dead. Was he supposed to feel relieved now that that's out there? Because he doesn't. If anything, he feels worse.]

I'm sorry.

[He isn't. His tone is stiff, the words obviously being said because those sorts of words are just what should be said in situations like this; despite that, however, he maintains eye contact.]

As I've said, Archer, I believe you. While I don't see much sense in feeling guilty for something you didn't do - and before you argue with me, I think these dreams do, in some way, indicate that you're feeling guilty - I'm not accusing you of anything.

And honestly, knowing what you've just told me, I would be incredibly annoyed if you were trying to replace him. So I'm willing to continue to believe you there, as well.

[Of course he's not. They both know that. Archer doesn't reply, but he's not returning that eye contact. He's silent as Kimblee talks; part of him does feel guilty about it, but it's not a feeling Archer has ever really dealt with before and he's not entirely sure why he's feeling it. He had no way of knowing. There was nothing else he could do. So why does he still feel guilty?]

...You would be annoyed?

[That's what bothers him he most out of everything Kimblee's said.]

Why? Wouldn't it be easier just to... let it go? To not dwell on it?

[Kimblee shakes his head a bit at that; you're overlooking the forest for the trees.]

That isn't what I meant. There's no sense in dwelling on things that you can't change. If you made a mistake in the past, learn from it; however, regardless of how badly things went, if you don't believe that you've done something wrong - not based on what you feel, but what you know - there's nothing that living in the past will accomplish for you. Wallowing will get you nowhere, and if anything it's a hideous form of self-victimization.

But there's a large difference between dwelling on it and trying to pretend that it didn't happen. You were very fond of this man, from what you've told me; trying to replace him would be trivializing whatever relationship you had with him.

Perhaps you think I shouldn't be annoyed because I don't believe that life has any intrinsic value - anyone's, including yours, mine, and that of your dead friend. But what I believe in that regard isn't relevant; if you were fond of him, you placed personal value on his life. Trivializing that would be a hideous thing to do, Archer.

Always look forward, but never forget. To do otherwise is incredibly disrespectful.

[Again Archer is silent as Kimblee speaks. He frowns at the idea of self-victimizing - it's entirely possible that he's done that, but it's not something he meant to do - but other than that, he doesn't react much.]

[At least not until Kimblee says "your dead friend." That gets a startled twitch out of him, and Archer immediately turns away. He doesn't speak even after Kimblee finishes, instead reflecting on what the alchemist has said.]

[Always look forward, but never forget. To do otherwise is incredibly disrespectful.]

...I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted.

[He isn't, of course, but it's the only excuse he has to cling to Kimblee. He'll never admit it, but somehow or other Kimblee just managed to make everything easier. There's no reason for him to forget about Kimbley, and just hearing that is such a relief.]

Thank you.

Of course, Archer.

[...and with that acknowledgement of the latter part of it out of the way, Kimblee never really knows what to say to things like that first statement; it's a transparent excuse and they both know it, but it's one that Archer is obviously accustomed to using. He wonders vaguely if he used it often on this friend of his; he wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

That thought really doesn't make it any less awkward. He's never exactly been comfortable with Archer being in his space like that; it's just more productive in the long run to placate him, and it isn't harming Kimblee any. As such, he responds to the statement in the way he usually does - a bit of staring and too much silence to be entirely comfortable - while he figures out how to proceed.]

I assume you'll want to stay in here.

[Another brief pause. Hesitant, almost.]

Lie down, then. I won't... [He won't what? There's no way to word it that doesn't sound stupidly intimate, which isn't what he wants; he shakes his head a bit and tries again.] I'm not going anywhere.

[There's really no reason to be so awkward about it, Kimblee. It's just something Archer does, you'll get used to it eventually. Because like hell he's changing that for you. Not like he really could change it anyway, but that's not important now.]

I didn't think you would.

[The statement is delivered with the usual amount of sarcasm and an eye-roll for good measure, but it is a relief to hear. This version of the Crimson Alchemist isn't one he can fully trust. Not yet, at least. That said, he does trust Kimblee far more than he trusts anyone else in this world. Perhaps it's because of the similarities to the other Crimson Alchemist, but Archer's seen more differences than similarities at this point.]

[He doesn't waste any time in removing his jacket and taking his side of the bed, rearranging the pillows so he has something to do with himself.]

But... thank you anyway.

[um excuse you

your side of the bed?

he doesn't think s- ...oh what's the point in even arguing that anymore]

...you don't have to keep thanking me, you know.

[His tone is light when he says it, however, not annoyed in the least. Fine, fine, he'll lie down with you - just stop messing up his pillows, he likes how they're arranged.]

[Don't you even try to take his side of the bed, Kimblee! He'll... do nothing but sulk for the rest of the evening. And probably do some passive-aggressive-rolling-around-on-the-bed. The usual.]

Of course I don't; you just happen to respond well to flattery.

[And this is more than he gives anyone else, so!]

[Fine, he'll leave those pillows alone now; he needs two of them to... not sleep on since you tend to serve as a better pillow. Shut up. He'll do what he wants.]

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explosivecombat - 2011-12-21 00:57 (UTC) - Expand

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sadisticwarfare.livejournal.com - 2011-12-21 01:00 (UTC) - Expand

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004. [Text/Action for Goldenrod City]

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