Solf J Kimblee (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
explosivecombat) wrote2011-12-14 05:08 pm
explosivecombat) wrote2011-12-14 05:08 pm
Entry tags:
- !ic,
- *action,
- *text,
- @envy,
- @esteemed brigadier general roy mustang,
- @frank archer's utter lack of subtlety,
- @fullmetal,
- @gorthan and his biology,
- @maes hughes,
- @mihoshi kuramitsu,
- @riku,
- admittedly less than fabulous,
- itp: ace alchemist investigations,
- just thought he'd ask,
- my logic is flawless,
- my tiny violin tho,
- really damn awful noises,
- slacking off like hell,
- texting into the void,
- this is really stupid
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.]
[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.]
no subject
That's right, you do have an especially thick skin, don't you?
no subject
To answer your question, however, I don't really give much thought to what constitutes friendship and what doesn't. However, I'd think it would need to be based on a mutual understanding that that's what the relationship is in the first place, don't you?
I... what... fail!tag... >: my brain died.