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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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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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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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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02 June 2013 @ 05:33 pm

02?. [Action/Text - Fourth Wall]

[Kimblee has just kind of accepted this sort of thing, regarding those odd weekends where, for some completely arbitrary reason, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts (assuming that no one happens to get in the way of the explosions he's usually laying down); however, this time around he hasn't seen Archer all weekend, he's been unbelievably agitated for some reason he can't work out, and about the only saving grace is that he seems to have awakened in the Lake of Rage area today.

He can't say he minds.

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

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

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

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

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

I imagine I'll find them eventually.

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

Indulge me in my curiosity, however: were things like this weekend to be something controllable, something you could do at will, what would you bring here and what sort of abilities would you retain from you world - given power like this on a regular basis, what would you do with it?

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09 May 2013 @ 11:51 am

02X - Reintro. [Text/Locked Audio to the Rocket Frequency]

[TEXT]

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

...Oh, that's cute.

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

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

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

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

[Kimblee, hon.]

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

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

[PRIVATE AUDIO - TEAM ROCKET FREQUENCY]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...oh dear. Well. At least he's not in much position to actually do anything at the moment - this is Team Rocket we're talking about, and if somebody's on the network very vocally overstating their importance and/or competence, that means it's pretty much a day ending in Y.]

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15 February 2013 @ 11:51 pm

022. [Text]

With matters of one's heart and soul so close in mind, due to the recent holiday and all the romantic connotations therein, I ask that you forgive the possibly morbid nature of the question I have for you tonight:

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

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

I suppose I should apologize for such heavy subject matter; I imagine some will find it rude to attempt to quantify such a thing. However, it's been something I've had reason to consider lately, so no apology is forthcoming.

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21 November 2012 @ 04:29 pm

020. [Text/Action for Vermilion City, and one other thing.]

[TEXT]

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

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

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

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

[ACTION]

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

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

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

[PRIVATE TEXT TO RYUUNOSUKE URYUU]

I trust you're prepared for tomorrow?

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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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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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19 January 2012 @ 02:15 pm

006. [Text/Action for Goldenrod City/Northern Route 34]

[TEXT]

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

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

[ACTION]

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

Basically, his Yanma evolved.

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

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

Either way, he's clearly wondering what the hell his life has become. Good afternoon, Johto, it's been a while.]

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14 December 2011 @ 05:08 pm

004. [Text/Action for Goldenrod City]

[ACTION]

[Three days gone, with no explanation.

Kimblee had awakened strangely on Tuesday, feeling as though he hadn't slept much at all, and throughout the day he'd been unable to shake it - it's the same sort of feeling he gets when when he's been overstimulated, maybe, or spent time on a particularly difficult assignment. He would have chalked that up to a simple failure at restful sleep - he's not immune, and it happens - but then he'd checked the Gear for the time and date.

Three days gone. No memories from those three days whatsoever.

That. Doesn't. Happen.

He'd spent most of the day more wary than usual; he doesn't like this any, nor does he like the fact that there's nothing he can do about it. Even the normal solace he finds in sound isn't coming to him; he usually finds the music in Johto to be a nice constant, but now it's just grating on him - hell, he can't even be sure that anyone else is hearing it at all, and that's no use to him whatsoever.

Bluntly put, he's been feeling disoriented, Johto makes next to no damn sense as it is, and this entire thing is leaving him just a bit irritable and not wanting to stay in one place for very long. So! Today he's out wandering around Goldenrod; he doesn't seem too terribly bothered by the snow, though the heavy coat he has on over his suit and the long, pale scarf he has wrapped around his neck and shoved into his collar is definitely helping, as are the gloves he usually wears. He's determined to find something to clear his head; after a while, he finds himself in front of a building that's both stupidly loud and gaudily done-up. He kind of tilts his head at it for a moment; the place is pretty much an exercise in sensory overstimulation, isn't it.

It's perfect.

He pauses for a moment before entering; the music playing softly through the streets is the same as it always was. He doesn't want to ask if anyone else is hearing it; that's just asking for trouble. However, there are ways to get some sort of response without asking directly. He pulls out his Gear briefly, sending out a quick message via Text before entering that...casino. Game Corner. Thing.]

[TEXT]

Has anyone been able to locate the source of the incessant stream of music, or is that another of those mysteries that we're encouraged to not think too much about?

[OOC: Action-wise, you're more than welcome to catch him outside the building itself...otherwise, he fully intends to spend the next good while wanting to kill a slot machine in the face, so he won't exactly be hard to meet up with if he's seen.]

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