[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.]

[VIDEO]

[Aaaaaand when Kimblee's feed comes alive this evening, there are a few things that are immediately obvious over the video.

The first is the Pokémon curled up in the background; they're outside, and it's rather obvious that the poor bb is worn out from a recent training session, seeing as it's...completely and utterly asleep despite the reasonably early hour. It would be almost cute, were the Pokémon in question not a gigantic demon mammoth, but to each their own, really.

The second is that Kimblee is looking ridiculously smug today.]

You know, I'd been wondering if there would come a point when these creatures would stop gaining levels; it was logical to assume that point would come, of course, given that they stop learning new skills eventually, but at the same time, I'd almost feared that reaching it would be disappointing.

Believe me, it isn't.

[Seriously. Given that Kimblee's ego is usually strong enough to strike with roughly the force of a million gods, at this point you cannot grasp the true form. It's an Eldritch abomination that would make Pride flinch, and that's saying something on so many levels.]

I believe that means I'll be awaiting an eventual challenge from at least one of you, hm?

[That last part is actually aimed at Isaac, but if people want to take a shot at him for something...well. He's hit level 100 with two of them, not just Carlisle, this week; he'll be decidedly less inclined to tell them no.]

[ACTION]

[Anyone on the outskirts of Mahogany Town will likely come across Kimblee this evening; he doesn't mind the cooler temperatures up north and as such he'll be outside, alternating between chilling next to his sleeping murdermammoth and...playing with a rather adorable baby deer with flowers on its head.

You know. As you do.

Lizaveta will likely get all up in his business during video feeds, because he has yet to teach her the meaning of "being rude" and why we don't do it; he'll have to...work on that eventually, won't he.]

[VIDEO]

[Good evening, Johto!

The room is a bit dim when the video feed flickers on; Kimblee seems to have set the Gear on some piece of furniture in front of him - probably a desk of some sort. The room is nondescript, the walls bare, but it's spacious enough and there's what looks like that long trenchcoat of his draped over the edge of the bed behind him, as well as the edges of those boxes that the care packages came in, almost out-of-frame but just barely visible.

The room is his, after all, he just hasn't bothered decorating the place.

His voice is calm when he speaks, his posture casual - he's leaning back in whatever chair he's sitting in (and either it's a hell of a swivel chair or he's leaning it back on two legs and balancing it like that), and his arms are folded across his chest; despite that, however, there's a definite cocky note to his voice.

Someone's pleased with what he's received for Christmas, holy shit.]

My, my - judging from the feeds today, I'm not the only one who's received gifts from an unknown benefactor. Whether this is a sign that we've been favored by this world, or whether someone simply has a strange and possibly sick sense of humor has yet to be seen.

Perhaps a bit of both.

[And when he unfolds his arms, he's playing with something; it's moving a bit too quickly between his fingers for the camera to really focus on it, but whatever it is, it's small and solid and gleams a bit when it catches the light. A crystal of some sort, perhaps, blood-red in color.

For those from his world who would know a Philsopher's Stone when you see one: yep.

However! Kimblee will just be smiling and it will be a very pleasant expression, actually.]

I should hope that you're all enjoying yourselves; it's been such a lovely season so far.

[End feed.]


[OOC: It's been a lovely season indeed. Some of his CR has received things from him, just for the sake of reference; enjoy it?]

[There had been some definite toying around on this particular connection today, the screen flickering off and on as the PGC's functions were flipped from video to voice to text and back - anyone with a reasonably quick eye may have caught glimpses of amber eyes and long black hair, and perhaps sharp features holding an expression that seemed more amused than anything else. However, Kimblee has never really been interested in wasting too much time with playthings; the PGC hasn't been completely abandoned, as there are occasional sounds that indicate that someone is still in the area - footsteps once in a while, followed by odd scratching sounds and the like - but Kimblee himself is nowhere to be seen.

...probably because he's left the thing on in Voice mode before wandering away from it. The technology is a bit beyond him, and apparently he hasn't quite figured out how to turn it off.]

...try this again, shall we?

[Either Kimblee is muttering to himself or his conversational partner is exceedingly boring, as there's no response; either way, there's a bit of odd rustling, like fabric being shifted a bit, before a sharp snap - someone clapping their hands together, perhaps.

A brief pause. Another clapping sound.

Sigh.]

No...no, of course not.

[A few moments pass before there's a bit of a clatter - clearly he's decided the PGC is worth another shot, as he's back to fiddling with it, humming lightly to himself as the screen suddenly flickers to life.

Good afternoon! This would be Kimblee. And just barely visible on the ledge behind him would be several circles etched into it, with various designs scrawled into them.

For those who are familiar with transmutation circles, it seems he's been making an...attempt at alchemy. A very, uh, persistent attempt. Given that the clapping implies he was just trying to blow the thing up, apparently he just really doesn't like that ledge.]

Well, it seems that even with four functioning limbs you can't vault over them properly, and the chimera I've been given is useless in terms of destroying them. Either these ledges are defying all logic, or there's some other force at work. Dare I ask?

[Because as polite as his tone is...no, really, those ledges are just unfair.]