Accept that you are killing people. Don't forget them.

31 May 2015 @ 02:40 am

04X. [Action/Fourth Wall.]

[A.]

[They say that time heals all wounds, and most everyone who's had any sort of serious wound can tell you that "they" are full of absolute shit; the fact that this guy's shown up with the front of his jacket ripped open and covered in blood is probably enough to say that that he totally agrees on the "absolute shit" front.

That isn't to say that he's alone, though; Kimblee remembers him (partially because Kimblee remembers everyone but mostly because it's sort of hard to forget an alternate-universe version of yourself that's so different you're absolutely certain the world made some sort of fundamental error when it spat the guy out and called him you), and he'd managed to catch his attention in an entirely reasonable, perfectly affable way when he'd seen him - ...or, well, okay, he'd caught his attention via an explosion across the way that may or may not have been very well-controlled, because he imagined the mulleted moron would like that.

But! Either way, they seem to have made nice and now they're out in the open messing with something, and whatever it is it's probably nothing good because Kimblee's actually deigning to kneel on the ground in that white suit of his, sitting back on his heels and trying to disregard how dirty he's going to be when he stands up again, but for the time being he seems more interested in whatever his counterpart's got going on in his hands. That particular "whatever" seems to be a mason jar, presumably full of water from the lake they're hanging out next to.

And it looks like the mulleted one is explaining something, and his eyes slide closed while he's talking and he's smiling in a vague, pleased sort of way, and there's a brief flash from his hands and when he tips the jar and pours the water out the grass fucking corrodes.

Ask him to do water into wine and he'll laugh it off; water into hydrochloric acid, however, is apparently entirely doable.

Kimblee just kind of stares at him, before he smiles and asks him to demonstrate again; the guy he's with shrugs and says he can do one better.

...We might not want to let him do one better. Just saying.]

[B.]

[Of course, when he's not participating in the chem lab from hell, Kimblee can be found elsewhere; it's been a good long time since he's had his alchemy back, and like hell if he's not going to actually use it. He seems agitated this time around, though, as though he's not entirely sure what he's doing with it; it's far less elegant than it usually is, more explosions for explosions' sake.

It's not good enough, for whatever reason; after a moment of deliberating following a rather hard aftershock, he brings his hands together again and the energy he's using shifts from blue to red.

The Stone he's using isn't visible, but it doesn't really need to be for it to be obvious that he's using it; the sheer destructive power of it is going to absolutely destroy the shit out of a large distance down the route.

He laughs a bit once he has, the sound strange and breathless; that's better.]

[OOC: The idiot in question in scenario A is Kimblee's 2003 counterpart, who's sort of a hot mess; if you want to yell at one of them in particular, specify which and the mulleted wonder will be replying from

alchemicals.

Otherwise...welcome to the semiannual KIMBLEE SIT THE FUCK DOWN party.]

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24 March 2015 @ 08:09 am

041. [Text]

It's been a little while since I last spoke to the lot of you; a fair amount has happened since then, hasn't it? I'm not just referring to the local conquests – both for the better and for the worse, merely attempted or otherwise – nor am I referring to anything that may have been cast down to us from on high, simply because this place believes that we deserve a bit of kindness from time to time. I refer instead to personal achievements we may have made in the last few months – things that may seem insignificant in the scheme of things, but regardless are all the better simply because they were achieved.

Where I'm from, some of us were granted acknowledgement of our power to change the world; I say everyone holds this power for themselves. Perhaps not everyone realizes it; perhaps not everyone understands exactly how little it takes to influence fate in such a way. I've spoken on this sort of topic before, with emphasis on how this place has changed you; I'm curious to know what the rest of you have done to ensure that Equivalent Exchange is adhered to. You can't exist in this world without leaving some sort of mark on it, because that's the way of things; regardless of how important you believe the mark you've left to be, I'd like to hear about it.

It can be something simple; perhaps you won a badge recently, perhaps you encouraged some sort of creation you're particularly proud of with regards to breeding and egg moves. Small achievements are so often overlooked in this world that it's difficult to recall sometimes that they're achievements at all. Perhaps you've had a personal revelation; perhaps you've improved yourself recently in a way that isn't obvious to anyone but you. That counts as well.

On the other hand, perhaps you've managed something far larger for yourself; I'm curious to hear about how that's going, too, should you be willing to tell me. (In other words – yes, Lieutenant Blake and the leader of the future Cobra Empire, you're both welcome to boast in my direction should you desire to; I won't be offended if you don't.)

Now is normally when I offer some sort of thought experiment, and apologize for how morbid I'm choosing to be; none of that is forthcoming today. We're leading into a season filled with great significance for me – one that centers around changing the world and changing oneself, in recognizing challenges and yet cleaving to our ability as people to adapt and overcome. It's a very positive time, one in which our personal glory should be celebrated. As such, I'll leave you with another quote instead that I believes sums up my mood today far better:

"You have overcome yourself, so why do you show yourself to me as the one who has been overcome? I want to see the victorious – cast roses into the abyss, and say: 'Here is my thanks to the monster who didn't succeed in swallowing me alive.'"

Tags: !ic, *text, being you guys is suffering, come at me bro, god is dead and my tl;dr has killed him, just thought he'd ask, like a brick to the face, my social skills are flawless, professor of fauxlosophy, slacking off like hell, surprisingly not plotting anyone's death, ten points to ego, texting into the void, today we are tranquil for once

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07 November 2014 @ 04:34 pm

038. [ANON TEXT + IMAGES]

[Good afternoon, network! It's a surprisingly nice day today; the sun is out, and while it's not warm per se, it's warm enough to be pleasant.

The last time "Seth"'s device had shown up on the device with this particular sort of message, it'd looked about to snow; he's finding the weather far more favorable this time around.

The first image to hit the network is a view of the streets of Ecruteak, as shot out what looks like a window of some sort; there doesn't seem to be anything on the walls of wherever this was shot from, though the curtains are light and filmy-looking as they billow inward with a light breeze, a bit more elegant than the normal hotel fare. Possibly a private residence of some sort. The leaves are in their full fall colors outside; it's a pretty shot, if not particularly interesting.

The next image is panned down a little – you can still see the window, the curtains having fluttered to a bit more of a standstill, and there's still some of the view of the outdoors; what's new is the table beneath the window, covered in black cases and wires and triggers.

Bombs. Plenty of them.]

I'm not the first one to note that this world isn't safe.

[And there's the text, moments later.]

Aqua and Magma tried to save the world by destroying each other. Some of you try to save the world by destroying me.

Will you succeed this time?

[The next shot is a bit more casual than most of this nature, though as usual, it seems to be set up across a table of some sort. It's his stance that's different; "Seth" has one forearm braced against the wood, and he's leaning forward heavily enough for his stance to look idle, almost bored. As usual, his face isn't in the shot, but if you look you can see the usual Team Rocket insignia emblazoned across his chest; his free hand is holding one of those white cards that he uses to communicate sometimes, pinning it between gloved fingers; the words written out in thick, blocky writing, traced over multiple times to obscure any sort of distinctive handwriting.

LET'S HAVE A WAR.

The second shot is almost identical to the first; only the writing on the card has changed.

ECRUTEAK CITY.

ONE WEEK.

[OOC]

[While the IC timing of this is going to be as he said – the attack will be taking place on the 14th of the month – the log itself will go up on the 10th and will be forward-dated, to circumvent possible continuity issues.

More details about how we're going to run this thing will be forthcoming!]

Tags: !ic, **anonymous, *text, @carmen sandiego (here she is), @carter blake: bff 5ever, @cecil palmer, @cynthia (fe:a), @envy, @frank archer's utter lack of subtlety, @greed's poor life choices, @harime nui, @mimi tachikawa, @miss altava, @nagi naoe, @our future cobra commander overlord, @sion astal, @veronica madaraki, @yusuke urameshi, archer's gonna kill him, being you guys is suffering, come at me bro, engaging in heresy, everything's exploding and nothing hurts, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, he's come undone, hell are you even, how edgy of you, just thought he'd warn you, kimblee is overstimulated, like a brick to the face, my spinal cord is totally dancing rn, no kill like overkill, no sense of self-preservation, not slacking off for once, one-man army, raid on the city knock out evil tusks, sanity is so passé, ten points to ego, texting into the void, the greater internet fuckwad theory, this is gonna suck, tonight we're going hard, took a level in exploding things, two-person assault team, well that's needlessly sinister, why we can't have nice things, with apologies to carmen sandiego

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20 October 2014 @ 03:32 pm

037. [Text]

I come seeking discussion again today, which to most of you should probably be nothing new; if anything, I ought to apologize for it, but I suspect that will ring about as true as my usual apologies for the subject matter. For what it's worth, the subject is better than it usually is; take that as you will.

I'd like to discuss dreams today; I'm sure those that were here about a year ago know exactly why, but in the end that is neither here nor there, and you don't have to have experienced it to discuss this with me.

I'm sure we're all no strangers to very vivid dreams...? The sort that immerse you so entirely that they almost seem real...surely there are a few qualities here and there that mark them as dreams, but they're disregarded in favor of whatever is actually happening right in front of you. Dreams like that can hardly be said to be different from reality, can they? They invoke feelings within you; they encourage you to continue thinking about them long after you've awakened. You could even say that dreams like that have given you experiences that you might never have had, were you awake – you've gone on adventures and met people and done things that affected you, all while physically being asleep.

Say that there was a way to live like that forever.

Suppose that there's a machine that will put you under, rendering you solidly asleep and allowing you to experience whatever you want. The machine can simulate any pleasurable experience that you choose, instilling all the thoughts and feelings that would come with actually going out and doing those things for yourself in your waking life. There would be no pain or suffering; it would be an experience in pure bliss for as long as you were plugged into the machine.

Again, you could stay that way forever, if you so chose, living out the rest of your life in dreams, and it would be a pleasant experience that's custom-tailored to you. The only tradeoff is that you would be unconscious the entire time; the experience would be entirely in your mind, rather than anything you actually did.

Would you choose to go under and live the rest of your life happy but effectively comatose, or would you prefer to experience life for yourself, entirely awake, with all the imperfections and strife that may come with it?

You can answer me anonymously if you wish, because as usual, your identity doesn't interest me as much as your response does; if you really want to impress me, you'll tell me why you would answer as you did.

Tags: !ic, *text, @carmen sandiego (here she is), @carter blake: bff 5ever, @greed's poor life choices, @henry (fe:a), @isaac mcdougal: non-fail junior, @lancer (fsn), @micchy kureshima, @mimi tachikawa, @miss altava, @our future cobra commander overlord, @rideaux, @riku, @ryner lute, @snake (black butler), @tobias, being you guys is suffering, but is everyone mad about genocide, come at me bro, engaging in heresy, god is dead and my tl;dr has killed him, hell are you even, just thought he'd ask, like a brick to the face, look at your life; look at your choices, my social skills are flawless, professor of fauxlosophy, slacking off like hell, surprisingly not plotting anyone's death, texting into the void, that wasn't morbid at all, this is gonna suck, this is really stupid, today we are tranquil for once, why we can't have nice things, with apologies to carmen sandiego

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09 July 2014 @ 07:37 pm

035. [ANON TEXT]

[Well, good evening, network - it seems Seth's device is active again, though at the very least he's not inviting everyone to war like he's throwing the world's most unasked-for party this time around.]

You know, one of the things I've always found most fascinating about human morality is the idea that we're higher beings due to our natural inclination to put others before ourselves. It's generally accepted in society that we should be willing to sacrifice ourselves before harming another; I've always found adhering to that sort of notion to both vaguely admirable and sickeningly saccharine. If you must kill one to save another, that's still a life that's lost; why shouldn't the reward go to the one who's willing to fight for it, rather than the one who did nothing to earn it but sit there in pious devotion to doing nothing wrong?

We claim superiority for suppressing our instincts to survive; if anything, I think that would put us lower than dogs, not above them. All this intelligence and no will to live; it's pitiful.

But then, I suppose my lack of understanding of these things is why I can't be considered one of you.

For the time being, however, say I were to humor you in discussion for a while. Do you think your will to fight to ensure your survival actually needs to be tested? Since I suspect the answer will overwhelmingly be "No," I have another pre-emptive question for the heroic types.

Is there anything outside of arrogance and so-called moral superiority that makes you say so?

[...O...kay that's really not any better but apparently, it's just that kind of night.

You know, full of misanthropy.

Because some nights are like that.]

Tags: !ic, **anonymous, *text, @carmen sandiego (here she is), @flynn, @greed's poor life choices, @hiccup haddock, @royce, @walter, admittedly kind of asking for it, being you guys is suffering, but is everyone mad about genocide, come at me bro, engaging in heresy, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, hell are you even, how edgy of you, i used to be hardcore, just thought he'd ask, kimblee is overstimulated, like a brick to the face, my logic is flawless, my social skills are flawless, no sense of self-preservation, professor of fauxlosophy, raid on the city knock out evil tusks, sanity is so passé, slacking off like hell, so fucking flawless, surprisingly not plotting anyone's death, texting into the void, that may have been a bit insensitive, that wasn't morbid at all, the greater internet fuckwad theory, this is really stupid, tonight we're going hard, well that's needlessly sinister, why we can't have nice things, with apologies to carmen sandiego

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29 May 2014 @ 07:34 pm

03x. [Action - Fourth Wall Event]

[A. Olivine City, outdoors.]

[Well, while usually at this point in the festivities the hills would be alive with the sound of shit gratuitously blowing up, it seems that Kimblee has found something else with which to occupy his time.

An...obnoxious, mulleted, poorly-dressed something.

The guy admittedly looks a fair amount like him in the face, except the eyes are decidedly wrong and he looks younger by a good amount; he's wearing a really poorly-fitting Amestrian military uniform, and judging by the way he that generally appears to give so few fucks that it ought to be criminal he doesn't seem too wigged out by suddenly being somewhere he's not supposed to be.

It seems he's done this before.

Of course, Kimblee himself has standing orders to kill this guy should the opportunity arise, and he fully plans on acting on those as soon as he's done doing...whatever it is they're doing outside of this café on this lovely Thursday afternoon; granted, he doesn't seem like he's in too much of a hurry to do it right now, especially since they have exactly one knife between the two of them and the moron with the mullet currently has possession of it. Kimblee currently has his left hand splayed out on the table, watching whatever this other guy is doing with it; he looks like he's stabbing something over and over again.

Upon closer inspection, it seems that knife is darting in and out from between Kimblee's fingers; it seems that they have an obscenely fast two-player version of the Knife Game going, and Kimblee seems way too fascinated by a game including the prospect of this guy possibly missing and stabbing him in the hand, and when the guy he's with finishes off the round he simply passes the knife across the table and sets his own left hand down, splaying his fingers out to let Kimblee have a go.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why we don't allow weapons in Route. Idiots bond over them.]

[B. Just about anywhere.]

[...of course, that isn't going to last long, and for the rest of the weekend the hills are going to be alive with the sound of shit gratuitously blowing up. But hey, this time they're blowing up to the general tune of science.

It seems Kimblee has found a few errant shards of crystal; upon discovering that they do...well, a lot of nothing to actually power his alchemy up (because you never know), he's doing the next logical thing and infusing them with energy just to see what's going to happen.

The crystals absorb that odd blue energy from his hand easily enough; it's what happens next that's a bit alarming - at a distance it looks like they just sit there for a while, but at a bit closer range it's obvious that that energy is just bouncing around inside the gem, becoming more and more volatile the longer it's allowed to do so, and beyond a certain point...well, it's hard to say because Kimblee promptly throws it with great force, and as soon as it's gone it explodes in all its magnificent crystal-shrapnel glory.

...He's got a couple of small cuts on his face from when he threw one of those shards straight up; needless to say, he's not doing that anymore, though he doesn't seem to mind the blood. We throw outwards, not up, clearly.]

[OOC: The idiot in question in scenario A is Kimblee's 2003 counterpart, who's sort of a hot mess; if you want to yell at one of them in particular, specify which and the mulleted wonder will be replying from

alchemicals.

Otherwise, the second scenario can be literally wherever you want him - happy fourth-wall, everyone!]

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03 March 2014 @ 03:21 pm

031. [Text]

You know, I've realized that whenever I address the network nowadays, I always include some sort of apology for the morbidity of the subject matter; the subject matter is never any better the next time around, which I think just draws the validity of the apology into question by now. Ah, but that's neither here nor there - the subject today is still, however, not any better, so consider the apology this afternoon as genuine as it always is.

[In other words, sorry-not-sorry. Kimblee...]

I would like to discuss morality today, actually - perhaps befittingly, since there are so many morally dubious individuals around as of late.

Assume for a moment that you come across someone in peril; you're in a secluded area, and no one else is around to help this individual but you. The specific sort of peril they're in doesn't matter, but for the sake of argument, assume that it's something that you can handle easily - assume that assisting them won't kill you, and even if the situation you envision is dangerous you can call the authorities for help and that would be considered "assisting" for the sake of this experiment. For whatever reason, the person in peril cannot save themselves; if you don't do anything, the situation will prove fatal for the person you've come across.

No one will know if you help the person or not. You won't be punished or penalized in any way for not helping them - in other words, you have no legal obligation to do so - but if you don't, the person in peril is going to die. You've never met the person before this moment; there's nothing about their appearance or situation that implies that you should consider them an enemy, but they aren't explicitly a friend or an ally either. Just a random stranger that you are given the option of rescuing.

Most would probably agree that rescuing a person in peril like that is the "right" thing to do; I'm sure some would disagree, either because their beliefs are a bit unorthodox or because they want to feel edgy. So my question isn't necessarily what you believe - my question is why. Can you justify it, or are you just operating under "what feels right"?

Answer me anonymously if you'd like; as usual, your identity doesn't necessarily interest me, but your answer does.

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03 February 2014 @ 10:58 am

030. [Anon Text + Images.]

[Well, good afternoon, network - it's been a few months since this particular device has been active. There's an ID assigned to it, of course; those familiar with Team Rocket's activities in the past may recognize it as belonging to the individual calling himself Seth.

He's been inactive lately, as far as crime goes; that doesn't mean he hasn't been busy.

Today's message comes with a few lines of text and an attachment; the text is definitely deliberate, to say the least.]

What does this world mean to you? Do you think it's something worth protecting, or would you rather sit on the sidelines and watch it burn? This place is more than sunshine and Pokémon battles. If given the choice to make a difference, would you take it?

[As usual, there's a set of photos attached to the message; the first few show a desk in a nondescript room, covered in various mechanical things - those who are familiar with incendiary devices and triggers in your world will likely recognize them. The rest?

Those are bombs. A lot of bombs.

The last two are the usual shot of the Rocket member in question, in full Team uniform and shot from about chest-level, keeping his face and other defining features out of the shot. He's not holding anything stolen this time around; rather, it's one of those white cards that he's used to deliver messages before, 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 it far less identifiable.

LET'S HAVE A WAR.

The final shot is similar to the first; only the card has changed.

OLIVINE CITY.

YOU HAVE THREE DAYS.]

Tags: !ic, **anonymous, *text, @carmen sandiego (here she is), @carter blake: bff 5ever, @envy, @geddoe, @jade harley, @jinguji ren, @joker (black butler), @kayneth archibald e-rank luck, @madoka kaname, @our future cobra commander overlord, @riku, @roxy lalonde, @ryner lute, @snake (metal gear), @tenten, being you guys is suffering, come at me bro, engaging in heresy, everything's exploding and nothing hurts, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, he's come undone, how edgy of you, just thought he'd warn you, kimblee is overstimulated, like a brick to the face, look at your life; look at your choices, my tiny violin tho, no kill like overkill, no sense of self-preservation, one-man army, raid on the city knock out evil tusks, sanity is so passé, the greater internet fuckwad theory, this is gonna suck, this is really stupid, tonight we're going hard, took a level in exploding things, well that's needlessly sinister, why we can't have nice things, with apologies to carmen sandiego

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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] )

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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.]

Tags: !ic, *action, *audio, @domri rade, @envy, @france, @frank archer's utter lack of subtlety, @jinguji ren, @karkat vantas' impressive profanity, @kayneth archibald e-rank luck, @miss sniper, @ryuunosuke uryuu's sense of cool, @temeraire, @tsunade, also ayanami, because awesome that's why, being you guys is suffering, clearly i have become meguca, come at me bro, electrodes are decidedly less useless, engaging in heresy, everything's exploding and nothing hurts, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, he's come undone, hell are you even, how edgy of you, kimblee is overstimulated, like a brick to the face, look at your life; look at your choices, my spinal cord is totally dancing rn, no kill like overkill, no sense of self-preservation, not slacking off for once, one-man army, professor of fauxlosophy, really damn awful noises, sanity is so passé, stupidly dangerous tactics, that wasn't morbid at all, this calls for a tag party, this is gonna suck, tonight we're going hard, took a level in exploding things, well that's needlessly sinister, why we can't have nice things

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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.]

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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.]

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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. )

Tags: !ic, **anonymous, *audio, *text, @apollo: a father to his mon, @carmen sandiego (here she is), @chase young, @crow hogan, @demon sisters, @dimitri allen, @dist the rose (take him seriously), @dr kato (hopefully not in a dress), @ilya: partner in kittyface, @jinguji ren, @kayneth archibald e-rank luck, @king logan's ttly awesome people skills, @lightning farron, @lust, @momo hinamori, @obito uchiha's therapy no jutsu, @our future cobra commander overlord, @philip, @raven, @raz, @rommy, @saber the blue, @tsukiyomi ikuto, @wreck-it ralph: real johtan hero, all the juniors. all of them, because awesome that's why, being you guys is suffering, come at me bro, engaging in heresy, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, how edgy of you, i am superior, kimblee please stop helping, like a brick to the face, my social skills are flawless, no one in tr can communicate for shit, no sense of self-preservation, raid on the city knock out evil tusks, the greater internet fuckwad theory, this is gonna suck, this is really stupid, two-person assault team, well that's needlessly sinister, why we can't have nice things

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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.

Tags: !ic, *text, @crow hogan, @dr kato (hopefully not in a dress), @karkat vantas' impressive profanity, @kayneth archibald e-rank luck, @king logan's ttly awesome people skills, @lust, @rin okumura, @utena tenjou, being you guys is suffering, come at me bro, god is dead and my tl;dr has killed him, just thought he'd ask, my tiny violin tho, no sense of self-preservation, professor of fauxlosophy, texting into the void, why we can't have nice things

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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?

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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.]

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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!]

Tags: !ic, **anonymous, *action, *text, *video, @abalon demar, @daimon masaru, @danny fenton, @dist the rose (take him seriously), @esteemed brigadier general roy mustang, @frank archer's utter lack of subtlety, @gorthan and his biology, @harry dresden, @karkat vantas' impressive profanity, @kayneth archibald e-rank luck, @korra, @lightning farron, @luke triton (...luke triton), @luke triton (clive dove), @miss altava, @rangiku, @shinn asuka, @vanitas, admittedly kind of flailing, also archer of the non-human variety, also aya, also hunter, also ramsay, because awesome that's why, being you guys is suffering, clearly i have become meguca, come at me bro, electrodes are decidedly less useless, engaging in heresy, everything's exploding and nothing hurts, god is dead and my tl;dr has killed him, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, he's come undone, i am superior, kimblee is overstimulated, my spinal cord is totally dancing rn, no kill like overkill, no sense of self-preservation, one-man army, raid on the city knock out evil tusks, really damn awful noises, sanity is so passé, stupidly dangerous battling tactics, the greater internet fuckwad theory, the happiest day, this calls for a tag party, this is gonna suck, this skill is never going to be useful, tonight we're going hard, took a level in exploding things, why we can't have nice things, with apologies to carmen sandiego

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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?

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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!]

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27 May 2012 @ 11:06 pm

0??. [Action / Fourth Wall event]

[It's been seven and a half months since Kimblee has arrived in Johto; seven and a half months since he's felt whatever restrictions that are on his alchemy here loosen and fall away, leaving him with sheer destructive power flowing through his body.

But today, he can feel it. Oh, can he feel it.

Today he's out on one of the routes, training. That isn't anything new.

What is new is the way the route has been ripped up, large swaths cut through it; Kimblee is standing somewhere among all of the destruction, his breathing jagged. Those 'fortunate' enough to see what he's doing will get a glimpse of dark red energy flickering between his palms, sharp and crackling like some sort of demonic lightning storm in miniature, before he drops down and forces the energy from his body, chaining together a series of explosive reactions that detonate somewhere deep within the ground, ripping up fiery trails of destruction that rip through the earth, destroying everything in its path. The explosion chains doesn't seem to be hindered at all by obstacles in their path; rather, they seem only to be spurred on, ripping up anything in its path as fuel for another detonation.

The sound is immense, as are the shockwaves in the trail of those explosions; they don't carry on forever, but they're certainly not caused by any sort of natural phenomena.

Needless to say, Kimblee isn't training his Pokemon today...

Though he's certainly in one piece after the explosions stop, Kimblee doesn't seem to be all right, exactly; he seems to be having huge amounts of difficulty controlling himself, shrieking and shaking with laughter, to the point that he looks damn near about to fall over. If one didn't know any better, they'd likely think he was intoxicated; however...]

This sound...the power...! It's truly been too long!

[Another burst of laughter rips out of him.]

After all this time...I still...

[...oh boy.]

I love this!

[...Kimblee, please...]

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