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

15 April 2015 @ 05:09 pm

042. [Text, and one other thing.]

[TEXT]

I've noticed that when people are asked the question of whether they would change any major events in their past, a prevalent answer seems to be "No, because everything that's happened to me and everything I've chosen to do have made me who I am today." Sometimes I find that position unbearably arrogant; who's to say that the person you could have been – as terrifying though that notion seems to be for most – wouldn't be an improvement on you are now?

Not all changes are for the better, but there's no reason to assume they'll be for the worse, either.

I hold to a general principle of not regretting anything I've done; that hasn't changed, even now. Just the same, that doesn't mean that sometimes I don't wonder what would have happened if I've chosen to do something different at critical junctures of my life, regardless of how pointless that practice actually is in reality.

The idea of seeking solidarity in such notions is also pointless, but I suppose today is good for indulging in things like that. If I have any questions to pose to the rest of you today – and I admit I didn't start this with that sort of thing in mind for once – I suppose what I want to know is whether you would change anything or not. What it is doesn't matter; I just want to know whether such doubts have crossed your mind before, whether you find it plausible or not.

At the very least those feathers from on high are good for one thing, and that's ensuring that such insipid thoughts aren't keeping me up at night; I've been sleeping surprisingly well since picking one up.

( Private message to Archer. )

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19 January 2015 @ 07:16 pm

040. [Text/Action for Route 34]

[TEXT]

As a former soldier, I've had to consider and handle the question of when it's considered acceptable to take another life. It's hardly a question here, since in this world life is incredibly well-protected and death is incredibly cheap; however, seeing as this place hasn't just dissolved into an anarchic killing spree, it seems that most of us still have a basic grasp on morality as we understand it and are of the basic consensus that "murder is bad."

I suppose my question then is where the line is, for most of the people here, and where the difference lies between murder and self-defense. There's the obvious understanding that if someone is trying to kill you, you likely won't just stand there and let them do it; you're probably going to defend yourself or even fight back, no matter how much of a pacifist you are.

But surely there are places where the criteria becomes a bit more difficult to discern...? Say that you have two people drowning in the ocean; there's a plank nearby that will support the weight of one of them. Without use of the plank, both people will surely die. Person A gets there first, but Person B shoves them off, saving themselves but causing Person A to drown in the process.

Was what Person B did murder? Probably. But they were also going to die if they didn't do it – isn't that just another form of self-defense?

What if Person A fought back and was able to hold their position? That's self-defense, in all probability – but they're also deliberately ensuring the death of another person. Is Person A a murderer for doing so?

Does it matter? Either way, a person is dead because someone else valued their own life more. A life is over and somehow I doubt whatever words the living use to make themselves feel better matter much to the deceased.

...I suppose now is when I apologize for the morbidity of the subject matter, although honestly it seems I can't let a year pass in which I don't ask some sort of horribly inappropriate question about murder. I suppose I'm just getting it out of the way early this year.

[ACTION]

[...And in contrast to that self-admitted horribly inappropriate question about murder, Kimblee actually is doing rather well today; if anything, he seems pleased that the weather has broken and it was above freezing for a few blessed moments today, since that means he can actually go outside and not spend most of his time shut in the base. It's large enough to keep him from getting too worked up, but it's still windowless and claustrophobic and if he can be outside, then dammit, he will be outside.

He's just outside Goldenrod today; he's up on Acasta.

It's been a while since he's done anything from up on top of the Steelix – travel is one thing, but battle is another entirely, and he's got some of his other high-leveled Pokémon out with him for the sake of satisfying that latter desire; Acasta's up against Carlisle right now, and from the look of it, it's not so much Kimblee's job to command as it is to not fall right the hell off. But his balance is good and his gaze is incredibly focused, and from the sound of it, he's having a grand time – he's laughing quite a bit, and it's cold and there's entirely too much ice around and he's done this before and it was a good time then, too.

He manages to jump down when a well-timed Earthquake finally takes Acasta out, ensuring that he's well clear of the steelsnake when it falls; apparently he's not having fun unless everyone stands a great chance of dying, and today isn't much of an exception. At least he'll be unoccupied with battle for a while as he spends a while seeking out a Revive that he has somewhere on his person; whether he's going back up later or just doesn't want to leave Acasta unconscious is a bit hard to say, but either way he's around for conversation.]

Tags: !ic, *action, *text, @armin arlert, @frank archer's utter lack of subtlety, @kaine, @ken kaneki, @rideaux, @schuldig, admittedly kind of asking for it, also acasta, also carlisle, archer's gonna kill him, because awesome that's why, being you guys is suffering, but is everyone mad about genocide, engaging in heresy, god is dead and my tl;dr has killed him, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, hell are you even, how edgy of you, itp: we discuss zombies, like a brick to the face, my social skills are flawless, my spinal cord is totally dancing rn, no sense of self-preservation, pokespe tactics (don't work well here), professor of fauxlosophy, sanity is so passé, stupidly dangerous battling tactics, surprisingly not plotting anyone's death, texting into the void, that may have been a bit insensitive, that wasn't morbid at all, this is gonna suck, this is really stupid, this skill is never going to be useful, 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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22 December 2014 @ 03:12 pm

039. [Text]

One of the things I've always found admirable about humanity is their power to initiate change. Not just within themselves, either; that particular power includes the unique ability to instill change in other people – and for some, the world. It's always been rather appalling to me, that so many people would fail to understand how rare a gift that actually is: the actions of a single person have the potential to affect all of human society and leave their mark on the world, affecting and changing the course of the future itself.

It's a good amount of power that most people choose to do nothing with; it's a bit of a shame, really.

But whether we do anything with that power or not, we're all affected by it in some way; after all, the reason it exists at all is because people as individuals are volatile. We can change the world, and so it follows that the act of being in the world can also change us – whether through the actions of others who do choose to utilize that particular power, or just through the inconsistent nature of our surroundings. It follows the law of Equivalent Exchange rather well, I think.

Normally now is when I would suggest some sort of thought experiment to the network at large, probably morbid or inflammatory in nature, but I did promise someone that I would try not to be pointlessly negative for the sake of the holiday. Instead, my interest is elsewhere today – I want to know how this place has changed you. Positively or negatively, it matters very little to me; I'm just curious about what this place has given you, or perhaps what it's taken away.

Be as literal as you like, and as anonymous as you like; as usual with these sorts of things, your name interests me less than your answer.

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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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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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13 May 2014 @ 09:23 am

033. [Text]

The standard example of existential anguish is said to be standing on the edge of a cliff or other high place; there inevitably comes a moment in most self-aware individuals where they experience the realization that not only do they fear falling to their death, but there's nothing stopping them from throwing themselves off. I've always found it strange that a moment of experiencing true freedom like that would be considered distressing rather than a relief; knowing that there's nothing holding me back - that I am in full control of my own choices, whether it's to stand perfectly still or throw myself off - and there is nothing pre-written into whatever it is that I am that will dictate what I do either way is something I've always found calming.

It begs the question, however - do we choose our fears, and more importantly, do we choose how we respond to them?

If nothing is predetermined and everything about our lives comes down to choice, it makes sense to me that our fears also have to come down to choice, whether consciously or not. The part I'm not entirely sure of is the response.

For example, if one is attacked by some sort of animal, it makes sense that one would fear that animal. However, the response to animal attacks tend to vary - some will try to minimize their contact with that sort of animal as much as they can, while others will immerse themselves in it and attempt to desensitize themselves. Is there a particular thing that predetermines what choice a person is going to make?

I'm curious about your thoughts on it; you don't have to detail what fears you have and how you handle them, though if you would like to that might be helpful. I'm more interested in whether you think this sort of thing comes down to ingrained personality - something more inherent, I suppose - or personal choice, and whether such a thing can be changed.

Answer me anonymously if you wish; as always, your response is of more interest to me than your identity, and quite frankly I'm not in the mood to judge either way.

(As for the existential anguish, I've found over the years that I get the greatest satisfaction from neither the thought of staying put, nor the thought of throwing myself off - I've always enjoyed the notion that if I stand on the edge long enough, perhaps someone will act on their compulsion to put their hands against my back and shove.)

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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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12 December 2013 @ 11:56 pm

029. [Text]

Memory seems to be something of an elusive thing for some people, from what I've heard; I've never really considered it to be much of a problem myself, for various reasons both personal and not. But since we're all in this more or less together, and we have no obvious indication of if - or when, depending on your level of optimism - we'll be returned to our worlds of origin, I have to admit curiosity regarding the experiences of others.

Memories being the finicky things that they are, I'm sure we all have things we remember vividly about home - people, places, various other whatnot that I'm sure mattered to you at the time. I'm mostly curious about the people; you don't have to give me specifics if you choose not to, but I want to know -

What sort of things do you remember most vividly about the people that were important to you, and what sort of things do you not remember but wish you could? I'm sure we've all had that jarring moment when we realize that we don't remember what someone's voice sounded like, for example; I want to hear about things like that, if you don't mind. As always, do it anonymously, if you wish; I have less interest in your name than I do your answer.

Perhaps someday I'll learn to ask questions that are more seasonally-appropriate for any oncoming holidays; unfortunately, I've never really been one to adhere to the spirit of a season that I have no real understanding of in the first place.

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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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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?

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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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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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19 April 2012 @ 01:07 pm

011. [Video/Action for outside of Goldenrod City]

[VIDEO/ACTION]

[Today's episode of Oh God, What: Solf J Kimblee Edition is brought to you by a Pokégear that seems to have been knocked to the ground; the shot is incredibly lopsided and at least some of the action is out of view of the camera, but more than enough is visible to convey that there is what appears to be a raging battle going on between a rather high-leveled Ninetales and an unbelievably annoyed Steelix over there. The battle doesn't look like the uncontrolled flailfest that it would be if either Pokémon were rampaging or beyond a trainer's guidance, but if it's a training battle, it's a hideously uneven one - the Steelix is obviously far weaker and at a type disadvantage - and there doesn't appear to be a trainer anywhere immediately nearby.

Of course, if you still don't see said trainer after a moment of looking, it's possible that you're just not looking high enough.

Clearly, today Kimblee has decided that he isn't content to just watch battles from the sidelines, as he's currently commanding this half of the battle from on top of the Steelix. He's trained Dorian well enough to attack unprompted if necessary; right now, he's crouched down on one knee atop Nagara's head, keeping a one-handed grip on the steelsnake and holding his fedora on with the other hand.

He doesn't seem to mind that Dorian is slinging full-out fire attacks at him now, nor does he even seem aware of the heat flowing through the metal of Nagara's body on any level other than purely physical; if you can get a good look at him when Nagara is holding reasonably still, he's flinching a good amount physically and shifting his grip quite a bit, indicating that he's definitely feeling the burn through his clothes, but he doesn't seem inclined to jump down - if anything, he's laughing as the battle rages on, that long ponytail and the length of his white trenchcoat flowing out behind him, and for all intents and purposes he seems to be having a grand old time.

Granted, those who know him reasonably well probably know that the reckless behavior and manic laughter are signs that he's neither pleased nor feeling particularly sane; he's taking the failed attack against Goldenrod City as a personal insult, and he's got a lot of steam that needs to be let out as a result. As such, today's training session is horrendously harsh; as soon as he gets any sort of indication that Nagara is being weakened too badly by the flames - and he seems fairly used to the way battle feels from up here, so he can tell - he's immediately throwing down healing items so she can keep going.

At the same time, Kimblee can't keep it up forever, and really neither can his Steelix. He'll stop eventually, much to the poor thing's relief; she lowers her head to let him down, though he doesn't seem too inclined to move yet - rather, he has his eyes closed and seems to be focusing on catching his breath, and ignoring the fact that he's likely burned himself in several locations. Eventually, however, he does seem to notice that the 'Gear took a hell of a fall somewhere along the lines; he picks it up and snaps it off without checking it, promptly ending and sending the feed the thing had been been broadcasting without being too aware of what he's doing.

However tired he may be - and he does seem incredibly tired, in those brief moments he's visible up-close on the 'Gear; he's been doing damn near suicidal training all day - there's still a tight sense of energy to him, and his gaze is alive; he doesn't seem able to calm himself very well, and it's incredibly likely he'll move on to something else completely idiotic by the end of the day if he's not distracted by anything.]

Tags: !ic, *action, *video, @crow hogan, @dr kato (hopefully not in a dress), @envy, @esteemed brigadier general roy mustang, @frank archer's utter lack of subtlety, @gorthan and his biology, @isaac mcdougal: non-fail junior, @ivan braginsky (soviet union), @john egbert, @luke triton (clive dove), @lust, @ryuunosuke uryuu's sense of cool, admittedly kind of asking for it, also dorian, also nagara, because awesome that's why, fuckin' technology how does it work, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, hell are you even, itp: we discuss god, kimblee is overstimulated, my logic is flawless, no sense of self-preservation, not slacking off for once, one-man army, pokespe tactics (don't work well here), sanity is so passé, stupidly dangerous battling tactics, this is really stupid, this skill is never going to be useful, tonight we're going hard, why we can't have nice things

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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.]

Tags: !ic, **anonymous, *action, *text, @crow hogan, @envy, @frank archer's utter lack of subtlety, @gorthan and his biology, @ivan braginsky (soviet union), @lightning farron, @luke triton (...luke triton), @luke triton (clive dove), @miss altava, @our future cobra commander overlord, @touya rima, admittedly kind of asking for it, being you guys is suffering, come at me bro, engaging in heresy, good ideas are clearly relative concepts, 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 calls for a tag party, this is gonna suck, tonight we're going hard, well that's needlessly sinister, why we can't have nice things

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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.]

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