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 @ 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
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!]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
27 March 2012 @ 05:50 pm
010. [Anonymous Images + Text/Possible Action for Ecruteak City]  
[ANONYMOUS IMAGES/TEXT]

[It's been a while since the last anonymously-sent post like this hit the network - images sent from an individual obviously from Team Rocket, depicting seemingly random attacks on NPC trainers and showing proof of the Pokémon that had been stolen from them.

Three weeks later, there's another set; judging by the content, your anonymous friend seems to be getting a bit bolder, given that these pictures aren't showing completely random NPCs anymore.

Those who have been to Ecruteak City have surely heard of the theatre near the middle of town, where the Kimono Girls put on quite the lovely show; from the look of it, it may be a while until they do another one. Two of them are depicted in the first image, lying unconscious, facedown on the floor; what's visible of the ground around them - and there isn't much - indicates that a battle had happened there minutes before the picture was taken. Obviously, it didn't end too well for the girls.

The following pictures are individual close shots of their faces, verifying that all five of them were "dealt with" (read: roughed up greatly); the angles are strangely aggressive, as though taken from directly over their unconscious bodies. The next is a shot not unlike one from the first set - a set of several Pokeballs in gloved hands, that familiar red R visible on the clothing of the person holding them; otherwise, any actual defining features on the individual holding them can't be seen in the image. The second-to-last picture is along the lines of the previous one, only decidedly more direct; the person is again holding things they've stolen, but this time the Pokémon have been released. Not all of them, as there are only two of them this time, as opposed to the several Pokéballs - but they're a pair of Eevees, obviously very young; they look...incredibly confused and kind of dazed, but generally unhurt. Anyone who knows what the Kimono Girls specialize in will likely get the idea behind this one being included - more proof of theft, really. And once more, no glimpses of the face of the person doing the stealing.

The last image is taken from further back, clearly from one of the seats in the audience; the stage is clearly visible, making it immediately obvious that whomever's sending the images wants to leave an impression.

There's a large, dark R singed into the stage. The flames were apparently quickly put out, as they're no longer smoldering; however, the damage to the stage is clear. The Kimono Girls have been arranged such that they're lying beneath the insignia; again, the last image is sent with a line of text accompanying it.]


We've been watching.


Explanations (Or, How We Learned to Stop Worrying and Love This Shit) )



[OOC:]

[You are more than welcome to do action/mingling replies re: the theatre, though Kimblee and Archer are long gone; the doors have been frozen shut from the inside, so it may take a while to break in - at the same time, it was intended more as a warning for them while they worked (they would hear the cracking) and a temporary deterrent, not a permanent sealing-off, so the ice isn't particularly strong and can be broken/melted from the outside.

Responses to text will come from either or both of them; one of them is minding the Gear at all times, so somebody will respond.

...also yes, assault on the Kimono Girls is mod-approved!]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
08 March 2012 @ 02:22 pm
008. [Anonymous Images + Text/Action for mid-Route 36]  
[ANONYMOUS IMAGES/TEXT]

[Today, Johto, you're in for a treat - clearly, someone has decided that there aren't nearly enough photographs shot from hipster angles on your Gear. Don't worry, that will be remedied shortly. After all, a series of images has hit the network this afternoon!

Granted, the images are a bit...unusual. A couple of unconscious NPCs, shot from incredibly close up. A few glimpses of the Rocket uniform on the person pinning said NPCs against the ground for the sake of the images. A set of Pokeballs in gloved hands, the telltale red R visible in the background, emblazoned across the clothing of the person holding them - anyone who's familiar with the organization can infer that said Pokeballs have been stolen.

...oh.

No glimpses of the face of the Rocket who's done the stealing; the images have been submitted anonymously. Accompanying the last image - the stolen Pokemon, the red insignia - there's a line of text, equally anonymous.]


We're still here.

[ACTION]

[A short while after the text goes out, there's another attack.

There's some poor sap of an NPC on the ground, having come out on the losing end of their confrontation with a member of the criminal organization; the Rocket has his boot planted firmly in the center of the NPC's upper back, pinning him down at the shoulders. At a distance, the Rocket looks similar enough to the rest of his organization: dark hair of indeterminate length - it's either very short or tucked up under his hat, it's a bit difficult to tell; long gloves and knee-high boots, pale grey and sharp-looking over the dark clothes; the red R emblazoned over the chest. He's rather thin, and his shoulderspan is incredibly narrow, and there's an odd, shaking tightness to his posture; there are a couple of stray locks of hair at the front that have managed to work themselves out from underneath the hat, falling down into the man's face.

He isn't bothering with the mask issued for official work; his face is visible. Were he in Goldenrod this would be different, but now...why bother? It isn't as though there are usually many people on this particular route anyway.

He's smirking like a madman; his amber eyes are alive, the pupils constricted. Get close enough and you can hear him laughing a bit, though the sound is quiet today. Controlled.

Welcome to Route 36, a couple of days outside of Violet City; Kimblee's been a bit overstimulated lately, that's all, the stress of playing nice for the last two and a half weeks finally getting to him.

It's nice to let some of it out.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
07 February 2012 @ 03:36 pm
007. [Text/Action for Violet City]  
[TEXT]

I ask that you forgive the morbidity of the question, but I find that there are some things that can't exactly go unasked -

I've heard rumors that if one dies in Johto, one doesn't exactly remain that way; has anyone actually proven this? If so, whom, and by what means?


[ACTION]

[Early afternoon in Violet City will see Kimblee dressed like quite possibly the world's most pretentious horseback rider, what with the black pants tucked into the pale grey knee-high boots, an amber shirt that's perhaps far too nice for the occasion, and the usual thick gloves over his hands, the ends of which disappear neatly under his sleeves. It would look halfway appropriate were he in the company of...I don't know, a Rapidash or something similar, but instead he's got Carlisle out in front of him. Kimblee seems to be checking over his murder mammoth, who's been at a bit less than 100% after almost a week of constant pushing to get to Violet City in the first place; however, after several days' rest, he seems to be doing fine. Kimblee is singing to himself as he circles the creature; it's not entirely perfect, but it's a decent mimickry of the tune Emmy was singing a few days ago.

Either way, he doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that holy balls it's cold out here; hell, he's not even Blofelding it up with his Pineco right now. Obviously, whatever it is he's doing, he's a man on a mission. Or something.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
19 January 2012 @ 02:15 pm
006. [Text/Action for Goldenrod City/Northern Route 34]  
[TEXT]

While I suppose it matters relatively little in the long run, morbid curiosity compels -

Exactly how driven are most of you to complete this 'challenge' that's been set forth, and what drives you to complete it in the first place - what do you have to return to?


[ACTION]

[A short time after that text hits the network, Kimblee can be found just outside of Goldenrod City, on the northern end of Route 34; if the question is at all related to anything he's currently doing, it's not obvious in the least...outside of the part where maybe the Pokémon he's dealing with might be making him not want to live on this planet anymore.

Basically, his Yanma evolved.

Fortunately for him, the hellbug she has become seems to have retained her personality despite the evolution. She's honestly always been more like a dog than an oversized dragonfly; now she's just...well, a sufficiently larger dog. As such, she's bringing Kimblee a decently-sized stick to toss off into the nearby cluster of trees for her to chase; Kimblee is complying with her, albeit warily - he's never had much of a poker face, and while he seems generally calm, it's reasonably plain that he's half-expecting her to do something odd.

Like snap his arm off to get at the stick. Or maybe bring him back a person, or something.

Either way, he's clearly wondering what the hell his life has become. Good afternoon, Johto, it's been a while.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
14 December 2011 @ 05:08 pm
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.]
 
 
Solf J Kimblee
03 November 2011 @ 11:56 pm
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.]