Solf J Kimblee
27 November 2013 @ 04:55 pm
02x. [Action - Fourth Wall Event]  
[It's been a surprisingly explosion-free few days.

It's not that Kimblee doesn't enjoy having his alchemy back, as he certainly does. However, he doesn't have a proper outlet for it (..."proper") and there's that battle recently, odd and dreamlike and just kind of hovering on the outer edges of his memory - he suspects it wasn't quite a dream and there's been more than enough evidence to back that up, but really, there's not much to be done about it.

So he's restless as hell. Restless as hell is never a good thing.

Today he's got Ayanami out with him, and they appear to be exchanging blows; whether encouraging this with something that's actively tried to kill him in the past is a good idea or not is apparently of no consequence to him today, since he seems to be having a grand old time either way - the shocks she's sending at him are being countered with sharp snaps of his hands coming together and whips of energy detonating in midair when they connect with the electricity, and the explosions are loud and he isn't flinching at them in the least, and the look in his eyes is getting manic.]


Again - come now, you can do better than that!

[That's about the point when Ayanami decides to prove that she can, in fact, do better than that; she waits until the next time he fires off one of those explosive currents and promptly Mirror Coats him, and he's suddenly very, very grateful that getting kicked out of Johto for a month and a half seems to have done wonders for his spine because holy shit, nothing like having an explosion rebounded at you for double the damage, getting the hell out of the way is probably prudent.

But then the air clears and Kimblee is laughing like this is the greatest damn thing he's ever seen, and he's looking a bit of a mess but hey, at least he's happy, even if he's probably deaf as hell after that - ]


That's more like it; absolutely beautiful!

[...right. Well, either way, he doesn't seem to mind.]



[OOC: He can be run into just about anywhere because Johto is, as usual for these things, completely on the blink; he's going to be a bit...um, excited no matter where you happen to run into him because yay alchemy, but you are more than welcome to put him where you want him - he'll be ending up in Goldenrod after the event, however, so he'll definitely be there at some point!]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
09 October 2013 @ 04:21 pm
028. [Text]  
[Well. The previous night's sleep was absolutely hideous, for reasons that Kimblee really doesn't want to discuss, especially not with the network as a whole; however, the lack of contact with people is possibly the last thing he wants.

So. Polling the audience time again. Let's do this thing.]


While I know that this world has a tendency to pull some strange sorts of mayhem when it comes to bringing people here, have any of the rest of you found people from a different version of the world you came from? I'm not talking about different points on the timeline - though if any of you have experienced anything particularly strange on that front, I'm interested in hearing about that as well. What I'm referring to are instances of the world being identical up to a point, and the subsequent differences led to the timeline of your world and the timeline of this alternate version being entirely different.

From what I understand, this can lead to things such as another version of you living out an alternate version of your life; an example of what things might have been, if you made different choices. I know that it's a popular theory, philosophically, but have any of you received irrefutable evidence that that's the case in whatever reality you came from?

Because I have.
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
06 August 2013 @ 10:46 pm
027. [Text/Audio - Locked Rocket Frequency]  
[TEXT]

[Well, the network is getting a somewhat saner post from Kimblee this time around; he seems to have settled quite a bit since the bout of whatever-that-was involving the rain and the Anoriths and the...crazy, let's not lie to ourselves.

So there's text again tonight, and not a whole lot of prelude or explanation with it.]


In the interest of equivalent exchange...what would be the largest sacrifice you would be willing to make, in order to receive whatever it is that you desire most? For the sake of argument, you would receive exactly what it is you want, without any hideous Monkey's-Paw, literal-genie side effects. Adhering to the spirit of the law as well as the letter. I don't care what it is in particular, and you don’t have to specify. Just whatever it is you want most. What would you be willing to sacrifice for it?

Ah, and assume that offering your own life isn't an option, because that renders the question an entirely moot point; however, I’m not saying lives in general are off-limits - if you'd kill a room full of strangers, then you would, and you won't offend my delicate sensibilities any by saying so. On the other hand, if you don't consider anything to be worth it, then I'll question your powers of imagination but so be it.

Answer anonymously, if you're more comfortable doing it that way; after all, I'm not looking to measure how depraved my acquaintances are - your name is of less concern to me than your answer.




[AUDIO - ROCKET FREQUENCY] )
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
27 July 2013 @ 01:57 am
026. [Audio/Action for Route 35, just outside Goldenrod City]  
[AUDIO]

Goodness, it's only getting worse out there...

[Audio posts from Kimblee are reasonably rare, unless he's on...ah, "official business"; however, tonight he clearly feels like addressing the network as a whole for once. His voice is tight, though it's remaining controlled; there's a sort of quietness to the feed, as though he's indoors for the time being - god only knows exactly where, though, because judging by the BGM, he could be anywhere in Goldenrod.]

I've seen a few swarms in my time here, but I don't recall them being this bad in quite a while, much less this angry...perhaps this place is finally starting to strike back. I can't imagine the world being terribly pleased with how frequently the "foreigners" find their way here, after all; upset the balance too far in one way or another and the world will take notice, I've found, and if you think that will result in anything but a battlefield in one way or another, you're either idealistic or very, very sheltered.

[There's a clatter of movement in the background, a vague quickening of his breath as he speaks - heading down stairs, maybe?]

I've always enjoyed the notion that this world is built around conflict and the culture bred by the battleground; perhaps it's finally living up to its potential. Time will tell, I'm sure; while I suppose now is when it would be relevant to ask what sort of thing you're fighting for back home, I'll spare you the tedium - after all, the answer to that, when such times are upon us, is always obvious.

[A heavier thud then, and quickly-paced steps on even ground; whatever stairwell he's on, he seems to have seen fit to jump the last few steps, and his words are picking up speed a bit as he continues.

Those that are familiar with the way he is when he speaks will likely recognize overstimulation when they hear it; those who aren't...well, he sounds excited, at any rate. Excitement is good, isn't it?]


But for now, the hour grows late, and there's a battle to be had; perhaps I'd like to hear about some of your battles, myself. Not the reasons behind them - again, those are usually obvious and boring, really. But what victories you've won, if any. What victories you're seeking.

I'd prefer they be true, but you're more than welcome to make something up if you'd like. After all, it's not like I'll know the difference, right?


[ACTION]

[So. It's hideous o'clock at night, it's raining, and things are getting loud just past the northern borders of Goldenrod tonight. And not, like rampaging-Pokémon loud, though that's likely also pretty loud.

More like "shit blowing up" loud.

It seems Kimblee's finally taking the time to properly, uh. Bond. With his murderball of an Electrode. After all, if there's one thing they both can agree upon, it's that destroying things is ridiculously fun if you do it properly. Right now he's enjoying terrorizing the living hell out of the newly-local population of Anorith; this likely isn't going to make them any less mad about the state of the world, just saying.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
19 June 2013 @ 12:42 pm
025. [Text/Action for the Rocket base in Goldenrod City]  
[TEXT]

[It's been something of a long day, really, though Kimblee really can't say why - there have been frustrations, surely, but nothing more than what he's accustomed to dealing with on a daily basis.

That said, however, there have still been frustrations. Whether he wants to deal with them or not. Right now there's currently a very large frustration that's been locked up in his closet again, just because the damn thing has neither psychic powers nor hands and it's taken to zapping the Pokéballs out of his grasp when he tries to recall it. Hopefully neither he nor Archer will need anything in that closet anytime soon, because this is just getting ridiculous...]


For those of you who have experience dealing with more...ah, difficult companions, how would you recommend dealing with them? Mind you, I'm not talking finicky, I'm talking about nigh-on homicidal; is there a way to repair one's relationship with them when it's that far gone, or should I just not even bother?

[Not that he knows what to do if the answer is "don't bother" because he suspects releasing a microchipped starter will go over like complete and utter hell, but that is beside the point.]


[ACTION]

[Kimblee isn't straying far from the base today; if anything, he's taken to holing himself up harder into it when he's not dealing with his psychopath of an Electrode. Letting the damn thing evolve had been a mistake; between that and all the other issues that he's very decidedly not wanting to discuss with anyone, he's more than happy to just shut himself in one of the training rooms and set it up to his liking.

Admittedly, the thing looks less like a proper training facility and more like the world's most suicidal parkour-based obstacle course; anyone who comes in to see what on earth's going on in here today may take a moment to find him, but that's likely because they just aren't looking high enough - he's settled on one of the world's most precariously-positioned ledges near the damn ceiling, legs crossed at the knee, and he's taking a moment to get his breath from whatever it was he was just doing.

Yes, he's still wearing the three-piece suit, complete with gloves, though his tie has come undone somewhat and his collar is slipping open; if you can get him to come the hell down from his position (and he'll be easily convinced, if he notices you) it'll become plain quickly enough that there are bandages wrapped around his throat, though there isn't any blood on them.

He seems pretty keyed-up there, though; outside of the vaguely unkempt appearance of his clothing, he's shaking somewhat and those two loose strands of hair at the front have been joined by a few others that have slipped loose from that long ponytail. His gaze is pretty manic-looking, though not to the point of looking like he'll bite anyone's face off just yet; at least there's that to be thankful for.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
02 June 2013 @ 05:33 pm
02?. [Action/Text - Fourth Wall]  
[Kimblee has just kind of accepted this sort of thing, regarding those odd weekends where, for some completely arbitrary reason, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts (assuming that no one happens to get in the way of the explosions he's usually laying down); however, this time around he hasn't seen Archer all weekend, he's been unbelievably agitated for some reason he can't work out, and about the only saving grace is that he seems to have awakened in the Lake of Rage area today.

He can't say he minds.

He's got his gloves off today, if anyone is in the immediate area through either intent or chance; surprisingly, he isn't transmuting...obviously, though what he's doing makes it rather clear that something's going on before too long - he's never been any sort of particular genius when it comes to chemistry, but he knows certain things when he sees them, and he's currently picking up rocks along the shore, appearing to assess them as he holds them before a flash of blue fires off and he throws the result into the water.

It's surprisingly easy to get a good transference going, to get sodium out of the rocks by the waterfront; of course, sodium in water is known to make one hell of a bang. Admittedly, it's not a very aesthetically pleasing bang, but he's working on it, okay.

Of course, there are some other signs in the area that his activities haven't been quite so docile (if blowing up the surface of a lake filled with terrifying sea serpents can be considered docile); there are some rather impressive swaths cut into the ground by what look like something ripping it all up from within. However, for the time being he seems pretty content to be bored, seeming to have calmed down from the earlier...fit that caused all that; he'll be having at the whole sodium thing for a while tonight.

Granted, for those not in the area, he'll be showing up over the device later - not via video, but via text, as per usual.]


I trust you've all been enjoying playing with your toys. Some of my most prized ones weren't returned to me this time around; I'm assuming this means they're still in the region somewhere.

I imagine I'll find them eventually.

However, for the time being I find that I really can't complain; the most relevant part of what I can do is functional again, and if I had to select between having my abilities with no enhancements and no abilities at all, choosing the latter to spite the former would be tantamount to solving the problem of a low doorway by cutting off my head.

Indulge me in my curiosity, however: were things like this weekend to be something controllable, something you could do at will, what would you bring here and what sort of abilities would you retain from you world - given power like this on a regular basis, what would you do with it?
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
09 May 2013 @ 11:51 am
02X - Reintro. [Text/Locked Audio to the Rocket Frequency]  
[TEXT]

[Well! Those of you on the network today will be greeted by a bit of audio late this morning, from a device ID that's been bouncing back all attempts at contact for the last several weeks.]

...Oh, that's cute.

[...well, if that wasn't the most triumphant return ever, I don't know what is.

At the very least, however, he seems to get over whatever he's almost audibly linefacing at long enough to realize that the device is recording something; he promptly switches the thing over to text - he's never really liked talking at the machine when he's addressing all of Johto.]


My, it seems this place does still have its sense of humor, doesn't it? And here I thought that perhaps I'd only lost three days at worst - it was a bit of a surprise to find out otherwise.

Ah, but that's neither here nor there, is it?


[Kimblee, hon.]

There's not much to report from home, unfortunately; however, it'll be a pleasure getting in contact with all of you again - hopefully you've all been at least reasonably well.

[Oh, well. At least he doesn't seem too off-put by the whole disappearing-for-a-month-and-a-half thing?]


[PRIVATE AUDIO - TEAM ROCKET FREQUENCY]

[...At least, not until the audio message that goes out over the private Rocket network a few minutes later; Kimblee's voice is cold and clipped, and the amiable "tone" from the text earlier is completely absent.

He has no idea if he still holds his rank or not; he suspects he doesn't. Like hell if he won't throw it around anyway. He's a bit displeased at his life basically being a .gif from Community, and he's going to figure out what in the good hell is going on if it kills him.]


This is Team Rocket Beta Solf J Kimblee, reporting back in for duty; to my superiors, I admit that I don't know what happened, but I assure you that it won't happen again.

To the rest of you - check in with me immediately, particularly if you're one of my subordinates. I'm receiving a lot of "ID Not Found" nonsense, and I need to know who's still present; given that and various things that I've had to hear about secondhand, I expect a full report regarding what happened here from someone, I'm not feeling particularly choosy right now.

New members to the organization - welcome to it, and you have my personal apologies for the disarray. For now, you're welcome to introduce yourselves; it'll serve you well to know that I'm good to those who are good to me. Again, prove yourself useful and you'll be rewarded.

None of this is a request. Allow me to make that much clear.

[...oh dear. Well. At least he's not in much position to actually do anything at the moment - this is Team Rocket we're talking about, and if somebody's on the network very vocally overstating their importance and/or competence, that means it's pretty much a day ending in Y.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
08 March 2013 @ 11:42 am
023. [Anonymous Text + Images/Video]  
[An anonymous text will be going out to the network today; the ID is consistent with the one that usually sends out things along these lines from Seth.

Surprisingly (and lbr, probably refreshingly), there aren't any images of Seth's "work" prefacing the text; it simply gets to the point.]


It's been a year since we first met. As predicted, I'm still doing just fine. Those who stated I would be caught before the year mark have officially failed in their task.

But as I've said before, I like to level the playing field a bit once in a while. It keeps things interesting for me. And since people in this place tend to like their anniversaries, I thought I would celebrate mine with an invitation for you.

I'm in Goldenrod City for the next week. If you want a battle, you're more than welcome to it.

I have eyes all over the city. Set up a trap for me and I'll know. But meet me as my equal and you'll be rewarded.

No tricks. No lies. Just battle.

Contact me and we'll see what can be arranged.


[The text is punctuated with an image, taken in what appears to be a mostly-dark meeting room; the focus of the picture is on a set of six Ultra Balls, shining dimly from what little light is illuminating the room. Visible behind the table they're set on is what's clearly a Team Rocket member, visible from the upper chest to about his hips; he's leaning against the table, gloved hands braced on either side of the set of Ultra Balls, and as usual, the red R insignia on his shirt is able to be seen easily enough.

The second attachment is a brief video. Though his face is still out of the shot, the Rocket in question seems to have seated himself behind that table; the Ultra Balls are still displayed in front of him, but a white card is obscuring some of them, pinned between two of his fingers. The card is handwritten in thick, blocky lettering, as though they've been written over repeatedly, obscuring the handwriting and making them less identifiable.

MY NAME IS SETH. A YEAR AGO TODAY, I BEGAN MY WORK.

AND I KNOW SOME OF YOU HAVE WANTED TO MEET ME IN PERSON.


He turns the card over slowly; there are two words written on the back, in the same style as the front.

ANY CHALLENGERS?]



[OOC]

[If there are any takers when it comes to this challenge of Kimblee's, there will be a log set up later this week to accommodate all your battling needs! This post is for the sake of arranging such things, should anyone be interested in trying to throttle the bastard. This isn't a plot so much as it is a post in two parts, so to speak.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
15 February 2013 @ 11:51 pm
022. [Text]  
With matters of one's heart and soul so close in mind, due to the recent holiday and all the romantic connotations therein, I ask that you forgive the possibly morbid nature of the question I have for you tonight:

The state or condition of one's soul is often brought into question when their deeds are brought to light or held up for scrutiny; the concept of the damned and those destined for salvation aren't new concepts by far. However, I have to ask what that means for all of you - do you accept your soul as existing only as a metaphysical concept, a matter of faith, something unproven and intangible? Or is it something undeniable where you come from, not a matter of faith but rather proven to exist? Does it fail to exist for you at all?

Or, perhaps, is it something else entirely - something that was rendered from one of the above options into another?

I suppose I should apologize for such heavy subject matter; I imagine some will find it rude to attempt to quantify such a thing. However, it's been something I've had reason to consider lately, so no apology is forthcoming.
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
22 January 2013 @ 09:57 pm
021. [Anonymous Text + Images/Locked Audio - Rocket Frequency]  
[ANONYMOUS TEXT + IMAGES]

[Kimblee hasn't been back in Goldenrod City for very long; he's well aware of the attack on the Tower, however - his contacts here have made him very aware of that.

He's well aware that he shouldn't do anything rash; however, his pride does have quite the tendency to get involved in decisions where it really has no goddamn business being, and as such, an anonymous text goes out over the network.

Seth's clearly making a reappearance tonight.]


It seems some of you have been enjoying yourselves lately.

[There's no clarification regarding exactly what he's talking about; however, there are, as usual, pictures accompanying the text.

The first is par for the course, as Seth goes; a set of six Pokéballs held in gloved hands, on chest-level with the person holding them - his face isn't visible, but the red R insignia on his uniform clearly is, even in the dim light of the room.

The next three photographs are decidedly more straightforward, in terms of what he's trying to get across; each image contains two Pokémon in heavy, reinforced cages set up in front of a black backdrop of some sort - birds, all of them. They seem alive, though "unharmed" is a bit of a stretch; they seem to have been roughed up quite a bit.

More text, clearly continuing on from the first line.]


So have I.

[One more image follows, similar to the first - though instead of Pokéballs clasped in his hands, he has a white card pinned between his index and middle fingers, the words written on it scrawled out in thick, blocky lettering as though someone had gone over the words repeatedly, obscuring any sort of distinctive handwriting for the sake of making them far less identifiable.

TELL FALKNER THAT SETH SAYS HELLO.]



Locked to the Team Rocket frequency. )
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
21 November 2012 @ 04:29 pm
020. [Text/Action for Vermilion City, and one other thing.]  
[TEXT]

This seems to be a time of loss for many; while there are several who have joined us in Johto, there are several others who have left us. Some may have come as a shock; from what I understand, many had been here for years.

My advice to you now is to mourn, but not stagnate; acknowledge the loss without allowing it to define you or your actions. If this is the first time this has happened to you, take this experience and know that while it may be repeated, it is bearable. If you've lost many during your stay here, know that you will continue to survive, as you have in the past. Draw your strength from previous experiences.

This world won't stop for you, nor will it stop for those who are gone from it. Move forward, but don't forget. Never forget; the most insulting thing you can do with the memory of those you care about is to ignore or defy it.

And yet moving on is essential. Those you have lost can no longer have an impact on this world, nor will they be able to until the day that they return. The best thing you can do to remember them is continue to affect the world in their stead.



[ACTION]

[Kimblee can generally be found at the docks today; he seems to have given up on training for the time being, despite the fact that he's kind of in a tournament-deciding match tomorrow. He seems calm enough for the time being, though there are some signs of tension if you know him well enough; he's shivering once in a while, despite the weather not being nearly cold enough to warrant that, and his gaze is strange and unfocused - he's looking at the water but not seeming to see anything in front of him.

There's also a Pokéball he pulls out once in a while, for the sake of toying with it; he has no idea why he received this particular one, but it's been weirding him out. It's something he's wanted for a while, species-wise - the ball contains a high-leveled Magmar - though he has to admit the source surprised him; it seems his original assessment of this "Minnie" woman was entirely accurate, and she really was too giving for her own good.

However, for the time being he's content to not dwell on it; he'll just be relaxing(?) by the ocean today, trying to keep himself calm in preparation for tomorrow.]



[PRIVATE TEXT TO RYUUNOSUKE URYUU]

I trust you're prepared for tomorrow?
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
26 October 2012 @ 04:30 pm
019. [Text/Action for Mahogany Town, and one other thing.]  
[TEXT]

Does anyone know if the hideous creatures permeating this region of late are deceased humans, deceased Pokémon, or some ungodly combination of both?

It's nothing I had ever given thought to before, nor will your answer affect my thoughts on them. I'm merely curious about what it is that I'm repeatedly destroying, and whether I have something unfortunate to look forward to if this place decides that I'm the lucky person who dies on a permanent level out here.



[ACTION]

[Well, a very brief time after that text hits the network, it seems Kimblee has escaped whatever Ghost-free location he was in before.

Kimblee hasn't taken kindly to the ghosts here; he never has, really, and the fact that they're now in the cities isn't doing anything to help with that little issue. However, he's also never taken kindly to the idea that he simply can't do something, or the knowledge that some things are simply beyond his physical and mental boundaries, and it seems that today he's finally reached something of a breaking point.

He has Dorian out with him today, as well as Ramsay; he's loaded the latter with TMs, taking full advantage of the fact that Absols can learn Damn Near Everything. Kimblee himself seems to have decided that he has absolutely no fucks left to give; people in the general vicinity of Mahogany Town this evening may notice a figure dressed in white wandering through the fog, looking vaguely like one of the undead himself. His motions are tightly controlled, the orders he's giving his Pokémon clipped and tense; he's also trying to act like every time he comes across one of the Ghost-types everywhere he doesn't promptly flail a little and overkill the hell out of the poor level 20s with Fire Blast from a level 100 Fire-type.

He seems...determined (it's just a very skittish sort of determined, okay) to find and destroy every damn ghost in this town, judging from the flames everywhere; the local ghost population likely has no idea what it did to have quite this much hell rained down on it, but there certainly is a lot of hell going on here, goddamn.

...he really doesn't like ghosts, okay. At least they can't be harmed with Explosion, else this would be much, much worse.]




[PRIVATE TEXT TO EMMY ALTAVA]

Miss Altava,

I apologize for the abruptness of the message, but I need to speak to you immediately; get in contact with me, if you can?
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
04 October 2012 @ 01:10 am
NIETZSCHE; DEAD PHILOSOPHERS' INBOX  
[TEXT; LOCKED TO [personal profile] doitrockapella]

The offer for conversation is always open, should you desire to take me up on it; I can't guarantee that I'll respond immediately, nor will it necessarily be the response you want, but I'll always respond in some way.

In the name of enlightened discourse.
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
04 October 2012 @ 12:30 am
018. [Text, and one other thing.]  
[TEXT]

Due to various circumstances in my world of origin, for quite a while, time was immeasurable for me. It came to lack meaning. Weeks bled into months, months into years. In some ways, this world seems like that for many of us; there's a lack of structure, and the list of things that one can do with themselves before they settle into some sort of day-to-day routine is incredibly short. These creatures become a part of our daily lives; this world becomes a part of our daily lives. And before we know it, we've spent weeks here. Months. Years.

That blank spot in my life lasted for seven years, I believe. Yet with nothing else to focus on, I discovered more about myself in those seven years than I did over the course of most of the rest of my life. Spending that long in the dark - whether it's physical or otherwise - tends to teach one a lot, I believe, even if it's just where your limits lie.

You'll have to forgive me for the needless introspection; if you're humoring me by continuing to read, either you have more patience than most at half-midnight, or this is one of those messages on the feed that greets you first thing in the morning. But apparently time does have meaning to most people in this place - in which case...

Tell me how long you've been here, if you choose, and what you've come to discover about yourself in that time.

I suppose it's worth saying that personally, I've been here for a year, as of half an hour ago.

For me, it's been another year where time has next to no meaning, despite the fact that I have an easy way to keep track of it; another year with no direction, though I wouldn't say it's been spent in the dark. Whether I like what I've discovered about myself or not within that year has yet to be seen; however, I find myself content with the way things are.

While I know that I have no choice in the matter, I think I could tolerate another year.



[PRIVATE TEXT TO KATO]

I have a favor to ask of you.
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
27 September 2012 @ 10:44 pm
017. [Locked Audio/Rocket Frequency]  
[AUDIO / PRIVATE - TEAM ROCKET FREQUENCY]

Good evening.

[The voice that comes over the 'Gear tonight is calm, at least; soft and open, a bit high-pitched perhaps, but generally not unpleasant to listen to. Confident, in a bit of a self-satisfied way. So it goes.]

My name is Solf J Kimblee; I hold the rank of Beta within this organization. I suppose I owe you all an apology for being away from the organization itself for so long.

I think it's time to remedy that a bit.

As one of the field agents in charge of assisting with the training of the new recruits, I would like to extend an invitation to all of you - particularly the new ones that I have yet to meet, although I would like to see those I'm already acquainted with as well. It isn't an order; again, it's just an invitation to talk. I would like to get to know all of you, and to have a fuller understanding of your talents. Should you require orders or simply want something to do, I may have a proposal for you; we'll see.

I would prefer meeting you in person; I'm in the Goldenrod base for the time being, but if you're currently elsewhere, neither time nor money is a problem for me. Let me know where you are; I'll meet up with you.

I must say that I'm pleased with the work I've seen so far, however. Do keep it up, hm?
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
03 September 2012 @ 08:47 pm
016. [Anonymous Text + Images]  
[And tonight, with no fanfare, a text hits the network. Completely anonymous, as always; those who have done their homework would recognize the 'Gear number as the one ascribed to the device that's been showing off several other attacks that have been broadcast to the network.]

Good evening, Johto.

The last few times we've spoken have been a bit unbalanced, wouldn't you agree?


[Ah, there are the pictures. Still images from the attack on the square in front of the Goldenrod Department Store, along with a few other images - the attack on the Kimono Girls and against a few random civilians, the Goldenrod Pokémon Center being destroyed. Little unpleasantries like that. Scroll past them and the text will pick back up, don't worry.]

You've told me so much about yourselves, during those attacks. I've gotten to know several of you quite well, actually.

For the time being, I would like to even the playing field a little. It will keep things interesting, I think.

From the time that you contact me onward, you have an hour to ask me anything you like. I can't guarantee you'll like or be satisfied with the answers, but it'll be better than nothing, I imagine; anything is up for discussion, short of my current location.

And don't worry - I'll introduce myself, just to spare you some time.


[There's one more image after the text ends; it's the sort of picture that usually closes out these transmissions to the network - a shot of the Rocket agent in question from the chest down to about the waist. The room behind him is dark, though it appears to be a meeting room of some sort, if you squint; the Rocket insignia emblazoned across his shirt is clearly visible above his hands, which are obscured by the pale gloves that come with the uniform. Instead of the usual Pokéballs clasped in his hands, however, there's a white card with a few words written on it in thick, blocky writing, as though someone had written the letters and gone over them repeatedly, rendering them unidentifiable through handwriting alone. The words are highly visible, standing out against the stark, glaring white of the card in the flash of the camera:

MY NAME IS SETH.

PLEASED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE.
]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
08 August 2012 @ 08:59 pm
015. [Video/Text]  
[It's been several days since Kimblee spoke to Archer in Olivine City; he had decided the morning after that conversation that it would be for the best that they keep their distance from one another, at least for the time being - the last thing they needed was to be unsure that this was going to work, after all. He needed space.

And he certainly has gotten space! The room he's in when the feed flickers on is rather spacious, all things considered; of course, the actual size of the room is a bit difficult to determine, given that the place is kind of the most retina-searing green imaginable. Like a factory of limes exploded in here, people. That is the level of green we are looking at.

Kimblee is pretty easy to spot, however; he's wearing the usual white, which is incredibly ill-suited (no pun intended) for his current activity, all things considered: namely, he's getting rid of all the green. Clearly, he's decided that he's somewhat unimpressed with the lack of activity lately - he's still working those mutations out of his system, and flooding his system with electricity has left his motor skills...uh, lacking, for want of a better term - and he's decided to remedy this by simply having at the room with a can of paint and a roller brush. Never mind that he grew up incredibly spoiled and has never painted a damn wall to save his life, and the fact that his motor skills are, again, shot to all hell; this can't possibly be that hard to figure out!

...needless to say, there's a huge amount of dark red paint just kind of everywhere on that poor wall. There are several good solid sections that are painted in a perfectly normal, rational manner, of course - and then there are sections where he's really obviously slipped, thick red haphazard streaks all over the place, before he seems to have worked out what he's doing and reset himself on some sort of halfway sane path...somewhere else entirely.

It's fairly clear that he's been at it for a while; this entire room is going to need to be redone by the time he's finished with it, but at least he's trying?

The camera follows the wall for a moment, showing the room in all its...uh, glory, before flicking back to Kimblee, kneeling by the wall and smiling in an incredibly content, if a bit vacant, manner. He's completely alone in there, just amusing himself with a can of paint.]


...still haven't made any progress...

[Kimblee's voice is soft but clear; he sounds as though he's speaking to someone, despite...being...completely alone in the room...]

...they'll probably never find whomever did such a number on the Centers. Such a display...I understand that they will be down for some time now. And they haven't a clue who was responsible for it. For any of it.

[He doesn't sound bothered by this, nor does he sound particularly pleased; he's just making statements. At no one. He pauses for a moment; his hand's slipped again on the brush, drawing another jagged streak against the wall. He looks momentarily displeased at that, linefacing hard, before moving on to pick up where the line stopped.]

Shame that the infection spread to so many, though, especially with the vital cities running so low on medical supplies; I wonder how many were hit by it. My own mutations will fade shortly, I'm sure - it will be unfortunate if this keeps up for much longer. It's incredibly inconvenient...not that I don't miss the power, however. That was lovely, while it lasted.

[He pauses again. Smiles to himself.]

It wasn't quite like alchemy, but it was close enough. Such a beautiful feeling...I wouldn't mind feeling it again. Perhaps someone can assist with that, if they ever work out -

[There's a rather odd, blurred flash of green-and-white across the screen before Kimblee can finish that thought, then the video feed shuts off; it takes a moment, but a bit of text goes out to the Network before too long, also from Kimblee's 'Gear.]

i think my trainer is broken

[...yeah, Kimblee's Gardevoir is getting a bit...concerned about this talking-to-the-walls business.

Kimblee will definitely answer responses as they come in, though; he's not that out of it, though it may take him a few minutes to get on it.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
10 July 2012 @ 10:03 pm
014. [Anonymous Text/Video/Action for Goldenrod City] - ROCKET PLOT  
[ANONYMOUS TEXT]

[Unlike the other anonymous messages that this particular 'Gear tends to send out, there are no images attached to this one. Nor are there any particularly threatening messages - in fact, the message attached isn't threatening at all! Really, unless you're keeping very close track of who's sending what, you wouldn't think it was coming from the same source.]

i understand that there are a lot of you who were disappointed last week - something about how there were no fireworks on the fourth??? and there was something else called tanabata that not everyone may have heard of. i'm glad that people are spreading the word about things like that - celebrating culture is important!

and because it's important, a few of my friends and i have arranged a surprise for you! most people seem to be in goldenrod city, so we'll do it there - meet us in the square in front of the department store at sundown tonight. we want to make johto a special place for you, and to make you feel welcome here - i hope the later date isn't too disappointing!

if you can't be there, don't worry! i'll broadcast the fun for you over the network; it'll be great!


[Well. Uh. While it's completely anonymous and therefore less embarrassing than it could have been...Kimblee is typing like a hyperactive teenager. This can't possibly bode well. At all.]


[ACTION/VIDEO - GOLDENROD DEPT. STORE, SUNDOWN]

[And just as promised, after the sun goes down and there are a fair few people in the square - some NPCs, some not - there will be fireworks.

They aren't exactly high-grade, so the display isn't too impressive at first - a few pretty colors, maybe, but nothing terribly elaborate. Clearly whatever hyperactive teenager sent the message to the network will get a YOU TRIED........ Award, but it's nothing to write home about.

...and then other displays begin enhancing the explosions.

It's a bit difficult to pinpoint exactly where they're coming from, as there seems to be at least three Pokémon contributing to them - and the bolts of electricity must be coming from a Pokémon, they're unmistakably attacks like Spark - but the electricity seems timed to enhance the blasts put out by the fireworks, causing far larger explosions, shocks of electrical energy dancing between the trails of embers raining down from the sky.

Rather pretty, all things considered - it's gone from the work of an amateur into something far more advanced. Probably someone who knows what they're doing.

And while everyone's attention is trained skyward, that's when things start to go wrong.

It's a very planned-out sort of wrong; a calculated sort of wrong. A "something is firing Zap Cannon directly into the crowd" sort of wrong.

Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be aimed properly; Lock-On is clearly not being used. However, it's difficult to say what on earth is being aimed at in the first place; those who are quick enough to not get fried (easier than it sounds, given the lack of aim here) and analytical enough to notice patterns will realize shortly that there is none, though the attacks do seem to be coming from one particular direction - the assailant is situated on the rooftop of the Goldenrod Department Store. Certainly, making your way up there will ensure that you find one of your attackers.

However, there are secondary attacks that seem to be following the Zap Cannons - smaller attacks, Spark and occasionally Thunderbolt, though that latter one seems to be a bit more infrequent - and those seem far more directly-aimed, trying to take out individual targets rather than shooting into the crowd at random. These are coming from another rooftop a short distance away - one of the nondescript, privately-run shops that aren't directly affiliated with the Department Store itself. Entering that shop will find the shopkeepers knocked out, so it's clearly neither of them doing anything - so who else is up there?

Should you be in Goldenrod City and wanting to investigate the electrically-based mayhem, pick your path - either the Department Store, where you'll find the individual with the ridiculously powerful attacks and no sense of aim, or the nondescript shop, with the weaker attacks but some sort of strategy.

And for those not in Goldenrod City? The fireworks were definitely filmed for you. And after a sudden burst of jittercam veering off into the crowd? So was the attack on the civilians, until the feed suddenly snaps off mid-attack. Should you try to respond to this particular signal, responses will come a couple of hours later.

Enjoy.]



[OOC]

[HELLO, ROUTE. Kimblee is one of the Rockets that submitted himself as a human guinea pig for the sake of gaining stupid amounts of elemental powers! Of course, there's no way he's doing this entirely on his own - he has some...help, shall we say - but even so, he's having himself a pretty good time tonight.

Should you choose [action], regardless of which path is taken - the larger threat overall or the one that's actually strategizing - I'll be engaging you; feel free to mingle among yourselves as well, if you see fit to do so!]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
11 June 2012 @ 06:03 pm
013. [Text/Action for Olivine City, also one other thing]  
[ACTION]

[It's incredibly rare to see Kimblee out of that fancy white suit; it's rarer still to see him not wearing it for any reason other than "If I wear it now, I'll get it filthy", "I'm in prison", or "I'm in a hospital and on life support."

While he's not on life support, however, he certainly is in a hospital of some sort - and not as a patient for once, either! Those who enter the Pokémon Center in Olivine City will be treated to Kimblee wearing general hospital scrubs, his hair pulled back in the stupidest french-braid ever to be stupidly french-braided. He isn't terribly interested in trying to mess with the human patients - in fact, he seems rather eager to stay out of the way of those who actually know what they're doing in that regard, as he hasn't been seen back there at all; given that he's filed just about everything he can get his hands on, he's working in the front today, assisting those who bring in Pokémon injured in battle.

And by "working" I mean "today has been ridiculously slow, so he's currently leaning idly over the desk, playing the hell out of the Tetris app on the 'Gear."

At least he's making no secret of his answer to the question of "working hard, or hardly working?"]



[TEXT]

[However, there are some sorts of boredom that even copious amounts of Tetris can't alleviate; at some point today - most likely after Kimblee has realized that he's going to be shifting around falling blocks in his goddamn sleep and he's going to be humming "Korobeiniki" for the next week - there's a text thrown out to the network at large.]

In my experience, there are those who exist to create, and those who exist to destroy. Neither are inherently good, nor are they inherently bad - there are those who create weapons and those who destroy barriers, after all. It's all a matter of how one utilizes their talents.

For the sake of idle curiosity, I have to wonder how many of us that were brought to Johto find themselves drawn to creation, destruction, or something else entirely.



[PRIVATE TEXT TO COBRA COMMANDER]

Position secured. Clearance and access to relevant materials likewise secured. Window of opportunity opens tonight during shift change.

Permission to proceed?
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
31 May 2012 @ 07:37 am
012. [Text/Action for Olivine City]  
[ACTION]

[So it had happened again.

Kimblee had been keeping largely to himself since the incident - another three days gone, another batch of bizarre dreams that he normally wouldn't have been prone to involving alchemy and fighting and...Miss Rockbell, of all people - and as such, he had kept the exploring to a bare minimum. This place wasn't necessarily a pleasant one for him; he had been here before, to meet with Miss Farron - that had gone over like a lead balloon, really, and while he wasn't one to dwell on unpleasant things of that particular nature, it had put quite the damper on his mood. All in all, Olivine City was one of those places he had no intention of returning to again once he had defeated the local gym.

Of course, that had changed as soon as he saw the location of the gym, and the view that it had offered.

He had assumed the stretch of water near Goldenrod City, on Route 34, was an inlet of some sort, or perhaps a large lake; he hadn't worked out exactly what that water had been connected to, simply taking for granted that it was there. However, there's no doubt in his mind when he sees it in Olivine - it's incredibly vast, seeming to go on forever.

Amestris is a landlocked country; he had never seen the sea before.

Even if the sun is out, eighty-three degrees is hardly a good temperature for swimming, and Kimblee doesn't know how, besides; that doesn't seem to have stopped him from wandering out into the ocean, stopping when the water is about waist-deep. He at least has the common sense to not do this in the white suit - the shirt he has on is a deep crimson, high-necked with the collar pulled up over his throat; the pants are black and made of heavy, stiff fabric. Unseasonably warm, perhaps, but he doesn't seem to mind; the water is rather cold anyway.

He doesn't have his gloves on, simply allowing his hands to trail lightly through the water, just under the surface; he's been in Johto for seven months, and his hair is getting long, the ends of it sinking just below the soft crests of the waves and wicking up water, soaking his back.

He seems rather peaceful today, all things considered; tranquil, compared to the manic shrieking and loud explosions during those three days. He's alert as usual, listening for sounds of an approach despite the calm exterior; however, that doesn't mean he's opposed to company on that beach.]


[TEXT]

[A text will hit the network a few hours later; don't worry, it's actually signed this time, and he surprisingly has no intention of trolling the hell out of everyone who responds - he'll leave that to Anon for now.]

As eager as some of us are to return home, it can't be denied that this place has provided most of us with far different opportunities than we would have normally had.

Tell me your memories of this place. Good, bad, it doesn't particularly matter - tell me what it's offered you.



[OOC]

[There are now hard spoilers for the plot of the Fullmetal Alchemist manga in the thread with Envy; read at your own discretion!]