route_1065 | Learn what you can from the beasts you defeat; you'll need it for some of the people you meet.

Entry tags:

Learn what you can from the beasts you defeat; you'll need it for some of the people you meet.

Who: Maes Hughes, Solf J. Kimblee
Where: Goldenrod City
When: Evening of March 30th
Summary: Ace Alchemist Investigations, Part III - aka sitting around in Hughes' apartment thing and talking over coffee, but you know. Details.
Rating: PG? PG13? God only knows?
Log:

Approaching Hughes' apartment, Kimblee couldn't hide all of the signs that travelling had worn him down a bit; he'd been on the Routes almost constantly for a month now, stopping for a few days within the cities to train and allow the Pokémon he relied on for transportation to not utterly hate him before leaving again. It was taxing, but Kimblee couldn't say in all sincerity that he hadn't enjoyed himself in some ways; after all, since his release from prison, he hadn't exactly been prone to staying in one place in Amestris, either. And besides, the countryside here was...pretty, really; much of it was largely undisturbed by humans, and even what wasn't managed to be almost unusually pristine, not bearing the scars of war and conquest that had been gouged across so much Amestrian soil.

...however, in all blunt honesty, that latter part was ultimately boring and in some regards unnerving after nothing but goddamn pristine countryside for a month. The job in Ecruteak City had been rather satisfying, then.

But that was neither here nor there; currently, he has a meeting to keep, even if he is more than a bit tired-seeming. It had been seven days since that post Hughes had made had hit the network; Kimblee had told him that he would meet Hughes within a week's time, and really, he was nothing if not punctual. The idea of directly visiting someone's residence was still horridly weird to him, but it wasn't anything that he couldn't get over; he would just be knocking, then, and vaguely hoping that Hughes wasn't going to insist on making another attempt at tea.

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Actually, Maes had been in the process of making himself a strong cup of coffee when he heard the knock at the door.

It's been a few days since he's 'woken up' but he hasn't been able to make sense of any of it yet. One thing he does know, though, is the fact that his dream had very much been real; Armstrong had confirmed that. And even though he knows that it wasn't exactly a dream, he's become a little afraid of sleep.

Funny, how he can come back from a war where he'd helped kill an entire civilization and still manage to live a relatively quiet, normal life. But after dreaming about his death, all he can think about is... Ross' face, morphing into Gracia's face. The gun. And the bullet that pierced his heart.

He's lucky now, if he can sleep a few short hours without awaking from some sort of nightmare.

As such, he's begun living off of coffee, and hadn't exactly bothered to socialize as much has he used to. Maes put in just enough effort for people to not suspect anything, and then mostly kept to himself. It's been getting better, thankfully.

He sets his coffee down on the counter and makes his way to the door, Elsie following in his footsteps. Taking a deep breath, Maes puts on a familiar smile -- it's a bit worn out, but a smile nonetheless -- and opens the door.

"Ah, Kimblee. Come on in. Would you like some coffee?" He knows it's evening, but, coffee is good at any time of the day, isn't it?

"Lt. Colonel." Kimblee inclines his head a bit in acknowledgement of Hughes' greeting, though there's still a slight hesitation before he enters the apartment itself; he covers it quickly enough, however, his pace easy as he enters. "Coffee would be nice, actually; I can't risk having the blood-to-caffeine ratio slip too high, now, can I?"

As dry though the comment is, however, Kimblee isn't exactly relaxed; he's keeping his attention focused firmly on Hughes' face. He seems tired; the signs are there.

He doesn't comment for now; at least not directly. "I take it you've been well?"

He doesn't let the smile slip. No until he's turned his back to pour Kimblee a cup of coffee. But as soon as he's turned around, the smile is back. He hands Kimblee a cup, and then nods toward the small table they'd sat at last time Kimblee had paid him a visit.

"Yes, quite well." He takes a seat and also a large sip of his coffee. Maes isn't even really sure caffeine affected him anymore.

"And you?" His smile broadens just a little at the thought of Archer and Kimblee traveling together; it reminds him of how flustered Archer had gotten the last time they'd spoken. "Nothing too horrible on the trip back down from... ah... where was it again?" Somewhere up north.

Kimblee accepts the cup of coffee easily, wrapping his hands around the mug; the warmth of it is welcome, despite the fact that it hasn't been cold in the least.

He settles himself across from Hughes, though he doesn't start in on the coffee just yet. "Mahogany Town; I challenged and defeated the gym leader there recently. And nothing particularly horrible happened, outside of the usual difficulties related to doing anything at all with Archer."

He laughs a little at that. "Is the Colonel really that difficult to travel with?" Or is it more than that? Really, Maes isn't sure he wants to know about your strange love-but-not-really-love affair that's going on over there.

He takes another sip of his coffee, trying to make a mental map of the area in his mind, just so he has a rough idea of where exactly Mahogany Town is.

... Isn't that close to where those girls had gotten attacked? Ecruteak? But he isn't sure, and he's not sure he wants to rush into discussing Team Rocket plans with Kimblee.

Not yet.

First, he'll hear out whatever Kimblee had wanted to discuss.

"You've spoken to him, clearly. Just imagine that for days on end, with no escape from him, outdoors with no viable way to put some distance between the two of you. You'll have a fairly good idea of what it's like then, I think."

Regardless of his words, however, that light smirk is still clear across his features; it's not exactly affectionate, but it's plain that he isn't bothered, either.

However.

There's a good amount to discuss, really, and it's a bit difficult to know where to begin; Kimblee takes a sip of his coffee before continuing, his tone straightforward but not harsh.

"Have you found out anything regarding that week you were unconscious - was there some sort of cause or reason behind it?"

Edited 2012-03-30 07:54 (UTC)

Yes, yes he has. But this isn't something that Maes is comfortable discussing with just anyone. He trusts Mustang, Armstrong, and Tot, but other than that, he's not willing to give out any more information than he really has to.

But since this doesn't seem like an abnormal thing, here, it's better that he provide some bits of information; just enough to make the entire thing believable should Kimblee hear about this sort of thing happening to others.

"I have, actually. A friend of mine claims that this sort of thing has happened to others here as well. This... falling asleep for a long period of time and dreaming of home, bit." He takes a sip of coffee before continuing, trying to think of the best way to word this.

"It seems that sometimes, this world puts you to sleep here, and... allows you to go home for a short period of time. Forge new memories, if you will. From the sounds of it, it all seems chronological. So you pick up from what you last remember before arriving here." Up until this point, he's been telling the truth.

And here comes the big lie.

"So that normal day in Amestris dream I told you about, I believe I actually experienced!" He doesn't miss a beat, and the lie rolls easily off his tongue. Maes leans back in his chair and takes a large sip of his coffee. "Ah, it was really nice, actually, getting to spend a day with my wife and child!"

Kimblee freezes up abruptly at that, finding himself immediately, stupidly thankful that he'd just set the cup back down on the table - the last thing he needs right now is to do something hideously clumsy with it, and as it is his fingers slip a little against the handle of it.

Bear in mind, Hughes, that this is the man who informed you of your death; he'd heard plenty about what a tragedy it was. Right after your daughter's third birthday, too, hadn't it been?

It takes Kimblee a moment to regain anything resembling composure; he has absolutely no poker face and he knows it - the damage has been done in that regard, and there's not much he can do about it. Really, he's still staring. But just the same, when he speaks again, his intentions are fairly clear.

"Yes, I'd imagine that would have been - you must have been pleased to see them again."

He knows. He definitely knows.

At the same time, he isn't going to force you to talk about it.

Thankfully, Maes is fairly good at keeping up a poker face. He does shoot Kimblee a curious glance. He's not sure how Kimblee, of all people, would have knowledge of just how fast he'd died after Elicia's birthday. The man had been in prison, after all?

So he'll just keep pretending it was a normal day, and deny anything Kimblee might say about the fact. Just one day! Maybe he died the day after, or something. "Yes! It really was. At first I thought it was just a dream, but others are claiming that it may have been more than that. Either way, it really doesn't matter, because getting to hug Elicia again -- in a dream or not -- is the most wonderful experience!"

It hurts a little to say that, but he pushes past it and plasters that idiotic smile that he always uses when talking about his family onto his face. In fact, he'll just pick up the closest photograph he has of his entire family -- not the one that had fallen and shattered, thankfully, because he hasn't been able to look at that one the same for a while -- and shove it happily in Kimblee's face.

"I mean, look at this face! Isn't she just the most precious thing? I really don't know what I did here to deserve such a gifted day back home!"

... this isn't the reaction of a man who just found out he was brutally murdered, is it? Hopefully not.

In some ways, it's a relief that Hughes is pretending that things are normal; if nothing else, it keeps Kimblee from having to answer for exactly how he knows about all of this to begin with. Knowledge of the death is one thing - he had been imprisoned in Central Prison, that sort of thing was fairly common talk around there - and hell, he could have even gotten vague knowledge of the timeframe from that...at the same time, he knows more than he should from overhearing idle talk, and he's aware of it.

However, he would rather not have to get into the fact that he was incredibly close with Hughes' murderer; that isn't anything anyone here really needs to discuss.

...at the same time, he could really do without having photos of Elicia being shoved in his face for the next couple of hours. Unfortunately, he hasn't quite learned how to derail that sort of thing properly yet, so the most he manages is, well. More staring.

"She's. Quite adorable, yes. Just like she was last time you showed me. And the time before that."

Yes... well... Maes wasn't exactly expecting that one. So as far as he's aware, nobody should know exactly the timeline of his death, and so this little lie of his should be perfectly sound.

So he's really just going to keep pretending he's alright, and... pressing pictures of Elicia into Kimblee's face.

Though, thankfully for Kimblee, that one picture is really the one one Maes has within reaching distance, and he's too tired -- and really not that willing -- to get up to go find others. For now, anyways.

He sets the picture back on the table and sends it a fond glance. "Ah~ it was really great to get to hug her again. You really don't know how much you miss them until you get to see them again." And also realize that you'll never ever get to see them again...

He takes another sip of his coffee and smiles happily at Kimblee. "But that's not what you came here to talk about, I gather?" ... He really can take himself off the topic of his family, even without depressing reminders like his death.

"It isn't, no." The subject change is incredibly open-ended, but at the same time it allows Kimblee some time to, you know. Regain control over his damn face.

Once his expression is back under control, however, he leans forward a bit, bracing his elbows against the table and folding his hands around one another, bridging them a little at around chin-level; his expression is generally neutral, though he's reasonably sure Hughes won't like the new topic.

"I take it you've heard about the recent assaults in and around Ecruteak City, carried out by a member of Team Rocket; there was another attack in Violet City, while you were unconscious - I don't know whether you heard any details about that one. Do you have any thoughts on them?"

Ah, so he was right about that attack. He hadn't had a chance to learn about the one on Violet City, however. It'd be nice to get some information, in general.

He's been watching Team Rocket's movements and pretending to be a good little grunt from afar as of late. So far, he hadn't seen anything horribly... well, horrible in anything they did. Most of it has just been petty thefts. However, judging from the whole train incident that happened a few days after his arrival to Johto, Maes had assumed that petty thefts couldn't possibly be all Team Rocket was capable of.

He'd been looking for a way to get deeper into the organization. And Kimblee seemed to be well-versed in the organization. After all, he'd been given special orders during the whole train fiasco; he'd even told Maes so himself.

So he leans back a bit, picking and choosing his words carefully.

"I hadn't heard about the attack in Violet City. Was it similar to the one in Ecruteak?" He frowns a bit, remembering back to the pictures he'd seen. "Whoever caused that one sure did a hell lot of damage on those girls."

"Not exactly. This was carried out by another member of the organization, one that was willing to reveal his identity on-camera and openly gloat about what it was that he'd done."

He takes another sip of his coffee before he continues; the gesture is casual, but his gaze is attentive, fixed once again on Hughes' face.

"Are you aware of the Pokémon Academy? It's commonly full of children studying to become trainers; the lessons taught are often very basic, implying that most attending are rather young."

He sets the cup back down on the table, one of his fingers tracing lightly along the lip of it as he speaks. "The attack in Violet City involved the Team Rocket member in question intentionally releasing fairly dangerous airborne toxins; that school was their primary target."

Maes doesn't bother hiding his surprise at this information. Targeting Pokemon trainers is one thing, targeting a bunch of children studying to become trainers is a whole other thing.

His frown deepens. It's no secret at all that he's personally fond of children. Even those who've seen him interacting with the Elrics would know that much. This doesn't sit well with him at all. "The children were...?" he leaves the question open-ended, and simply shoots a glance over at Kimblee to ask him to finish that sentence.

"From what I understand, there weren't any fatalities."

Kimblee's tone is calm and clinical, not really giving an opinion on the situation one way or another; his expression is fairly relaxed, in contrast to the disapproval on Hughes' features.

"I'm rather aware that you're still in this organization, Hughes; are you still willing to stay, despite the knowledge that its targets include civilian women, and children who are currently unable to defend themselves?"

He's not really sure why Kimblee cares. Or rather, Maes knows Kimblee could care less what he does in Team Rocket. But he wants to know why these questions are being asked. Especially now of all times.

He can't help but laugh at how strange this conversation even is. It's a low, humorless laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "You make it sound as though a choice is given, Major." His expression is serious, but no longer disapproving. Mostly just neutral. "I was under the impression that the organization wouldn't exactly like it if you tried to ditch."

He keeps his voice leveled. "Is it so different from the war?" He's killed his fair share of women and children, after all. It's true that he'd tried his best to turn a blind eye and avoid killing as many innocents as he could, but Maes isn't going to deny that he's done his fair share of horrible deeds back in the day.

He's determined not to do any of that here and now, and he's washed his hands as clean of the deeds as he possibly could. But leaving the organization isn't an option.

"Why do you want to know?"

Kimblee shakes his head a bit. "There's always a choice, Lt. Colonel. But if you're going to insist on comparing this to Ishval, then I suppose I can humor you."

He leans a bit more firmly over the table; his gaze has sharpened considerably. "For every action taken, there is a reason that precedes and a consequence that follows. I think we can agree on that much; it's just the way of the world. All of our premeditated choices, then, with a thought-out reason, are based on the potential consequence.

"All of those who fought in Ishval did so for their own reasons, but I believe you'll find a common thread among all of them - that being that the consequence for not fighting would be more difficult to take than the consequence for participating in the war. Facing a court-martial, being sent to prison, receiving a dishonorable discharge, possibly being killed in battle; the soldiers in Ishval all had a choice, Lt. Colonel. They could have chosen to take one or more of those penalties; for whatever reason, they chose to take the lives of innocents instead.

"If you're looking for a choice you can make without consequence, then you're right. Choices like that don't exist. But don't self-flagellate yourself, saying that you have no choice.

"Now. Logically speaking..."

He trails off for a moment, gathering his thoughts; it doesn't take long. "You must have a reason for what you're doing - one that renders remaining in an organization willing to harm innocents worth refusing to take one of these other options. And 'I don't want to die' isn't a valid reason here, Hughes."

He quietly listens to what Kimblee has to say, occasionally taking a sip of his coffee. It's gotten rather cold now, but he's not drinking for the coffee anymore. Rather, it's something to do, to help him remain composed throughout the entire speech.

Kimblee is right, of course. He has a choice. He could run from Team Rocket and take whatever punishment is dealt. And honestly speaking, Maes doesn't think the punishment would be all that bad, all things considered. It isn't like he's gone very far into this organization, so they're not losing a valuable member if he were to run, of course.

But he's not about to tell Kimblee that the penalties are more than just that. He's not going sit there and discuss with Kimblee over coffee just how much guilt his death caused him. How, in the end, he'd felt so goddamn helpless; and how he hadn't really done much to help Roy out at all, or kept his promise to come home on time for Elicia.

It's funny how this all started while he'd been asleep. Before this sudden 'gift' of knowledge, Team Rocket had been just another petty crimes organization to Maes; and he hadn't felt too horrible being part of it, honestly. All he'd really had to do was keep up the quota by going out and trying to capture some uncommon Pokemon and then hand it back to the bosses. But then he'd gone and fallen asleep. And he'd woken up to a world where children were being threatened with poisonous gas, and young women were being brutalized for their Pokemon.

A world where he's dead. Officially and 100% dead.

Returning home is no longer an option. And quite frankly, he wouldn't want to bring Gracia or Elicia into a world like this. However, that isn't his choice to make. It would be possible for them to appear at any moment. And from the way this world had treated him thus far, Maes honestly wouldn't be surprised if one of them suddenly appeared tomorrow.

Therefore, he's going to do everything within his power to make sure that if they do happen to appear, his beloved family will be appearing in a world where they wouldn't have to fear for their safety.

And if that meant dirtying his hands, then so be it.

He didn't want to die in Ishval, so he steeled himself and took the lives of innocent people. He doesn't want his loved ones to suffer here, and so he'll steel himself and associate with this organization that thinks it is okay to harm innocent lives. He understands perfectly what Kimblee is saying, but he is also well aware that there is no choice for him.

This is it. Someone has to do it. And he sure as hell isn't going to trust anyone else with the task of ensuring that his family would be 100% alright.

Kimblee's speech ends, and he lets the silence draw on for a few beats longer, all the while holding the other man's gaze.

"Why do you want to know?"

Kimblee doesn't shy away from the eye contact, continuing to hold it despite the ongoing silence; he doesn't answer the question right away, though he doesn't seem bothered by it in the least.

"Because this isn't war, Lt. Colonel, and you aren't a criminal. You had the same look in your eyes as the rest in Ishval - those who had seen too much, killed too many. But you aren't a criminal."

He settles back in the chair then, folding his arms across his chest; he isn't at ease again, but some of the tension is fading from his posture.

"Bluntly put, you don't seem the sort to remain in such an organization without the intent to stop it. Or at least the intent to nullify it as a threat."

Kimblee would be right, there. But that still doesn't exactly answer the question of why he cares. Kimblee doesn't strike Maes as the type of person who would be very enthusiastic about stopping an organization like Team Rocket. If nothing else, Kimblee strikes Maes as someone who would thrive quite well under Team Rocket's umbrella.

After all, he hasn't forgotten Kimblee's enthusiasm during the war. He's simply chosen to ignore it.

He doesn't move to confirm or deny Kimblee's observations.

"I'm still not sure why you are taking an interest in my motives." Is Kimblee here to stop him? "What benefits do you gain from understanding whether or not I choose to remain in this organization?"

And almost as soon as the question is out there, Kimblee's relaxed again, calm as usual, that light smirk present once again; the physical response is abrupt, with next to no transition period, but it's seamless - whatever seemed to be on Kimblee's mind before has either quite simply resolved itself or he's choosing to ignore it, but either way, it's as though any tension from the previous few exchanges has simply left him.

"Well, I admit that part of it is personal curiosity. You're a fascinating person, Maes Hughes."

He shifts again to toy with the cup a bit more, tracing his fingertips along the rim of it while he talks, that vaguely amused smirk never fading. "I hope you don't think I'm here to stop you; it matters rather little to me what you do, and if anything, elements such as yourself can be rather interesting on the battlefield. I won't stop you simply because I'm curious to see what you'll end up doing, in the end - stopping you now would just be disappointing.

"At the same time, I imagine it wouldn't be terribly fair for you to go into whatever task you've set for yourself uninformed. It's good for you to know what you're getting into; it keeps the battlefield even. You understand and are willing to proceed anyway, which is fine; I have no fight with you right now."

He'd been so good at keeping his emotions in check up til this point, but at Kimblee's words, Maes can't help but look completely surprised. Of all the things he'd expected Kimblee to say, this certainly wasn't one of them.

... Did the man really just tell him that all of these questions were simply because he was personally curious?

Finally, he just lets out a low chuckle. This is all... insane. All of it. And he feels he's far too tired to not laugh at all of this.

And that's just what he does for a few minutes. He laughs.

Finally, he turns his gaze back onto Kimblee. This time, it's less serious, and a little bit more amused. "It sounds like you've already decided we are on opposite sides of this so-called 'battle' of yours."

Edited 2012-03-30 11:26 (UTC)

Kimblee tips his head slightly at the laughter, though he doesn't seem concerned; somewhere, he knows that Hughes' reaction likely isn't a good sign, and that his own response is inappropriate - that feeling nothing besides a sort of idle curiosity at something like that is in itself abnormal, but he isn't terribly interested in pretending that he cares, nor can he bring himself to do so genuinely. As such, he simply watches in silence, his expression calm, until the laughter dies away and Hughes speaks to him again.

"Aren't we?" His reply is quick, flippant. "Really, Hughes - I'm not saying that this supposed 'battle' will ever come to pass; it's entirely possible that there will be a raid on the base tomorrow, followed by a forced disbanding and who-knows-what-else. But should it come to that, can you really say that we wouldn't be?"

He has to admit that he's a bit amused by all of this. More amused than he should be, anyways; but maybe the insomnia has messed with his thinking just a little too much.

Even without knowing Kimblee too well, Maes has no doubt that he and Kimblee would not come to common grounds on the subject of Team Rocket. But it's a little strange to hear all of this being referred to as a 'battle' of sorts. And he's fairly sure he doesn't actually want to fight Kimblee, even in an environment where it isn't possible for the other man to use his alchemy.

"If you're so sure we'll oppose each other if a 'battle' should come, why are you telling me these things?" He's having a hard time believing that Kimblee's... just... interested in seeing what happens.

"If I'm really intended on stopping this organization like you've suggested," and he's really not denying or confirming anything at this point. Though he's well aware that Kimblee's already solidified his own opinions of the situation regardless of what Maes chooses to say, "what's keeping me from ending you before we have to go to battle against each other? That'd be one opponent out of the way, wouldn't it?"

Or you ending him, which is the slightly more likely situation, given that Kimblee's been here longer and probably has quite a few tricks up his sleeves.

... But then again, he's got Roy on his side as well.

"Oh, I can think of several reasons why you wouldn't."

Kimblee leans forward again, propping his chin in his hand; his words are just as casual as his positioning, as though they aren't sitting around talking about ending each other in one way or another. After all, death isn't exactly something that either of them have to fear anymore, is it? Not that Hughes knows Kimblee's situation, but still.

Either way, Hughes. The sky is blue. The grass is green. We're probably going to try to destroy each other somehow. It's a lovely day.

"First of all, it would risk drawing attention to yourself, which is something you don't seem terribly inclined to do. For another, I think you would have done so already, if you were so inclined; you've had many opportunities, after all, and you've known what kind of person I am from the start. Another still, it's entirely possible that you acknowledge that I'm one of the people that's been willing to provide you with information since your arrival, and as such you have a reason to not want to push me away."

He smiles a bit; it's closer to a smirk than anything. "But if you've no further use for me, Hughes, you're more than welcome to try."

It's unnerving how much Kimblee knows and how little he did. It's even worse that part of the reason Kimblee knew more was simply because he lived longer; both here and in Amestris.

But Kimblee's the one in control in this situation. He may be Maes' biggest source of information, but he's the one who's controlling what sorts of information gets passed on, and what doesn't. And Maes is fairly certain that Kimblee is still keeping something from him.

Whatever it is, it gives Kimblee the bigger advantage.

He leans back in his chair. The coffee's gone cold now, but he's still holding onto it, if only to be able to feel something tangible in his hands. It keeps him calm, grounded. It gives him the ability to look back at Kimblee just casually.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Excellent."

And Kimblee does sound genuinely pleased at that; there's no sarcasm in his tone, nor does he seem particularly on edge. He smiles a bit; it doesn't look...real, in the same way that most of Kimblee's expressions fail to look real upon closer study, but either way, the moment passes quickly, and Kimblee changes the topic equally quickly.

"Ah, but while I'm still being a good little informant for you - there is one other thing I should probably tell you, since you seem so determined to stay in this organization. Indulge me?"

He raises an eyebrow at this. What more could Kimblee possibly want to share with him? Maes holds back a sigh as he holds out a hand, inviting Kimblee to continue speaking.

"Go for it."

Kimblee pauses for a moment, considering; there are ways to word what he wants to say, but regardless of how he does it, it's likely going to be horribly awkward.

He might as well see if Hughes already knows; it's entirely possible he does, isn't it?

"That Eevee you're raising - it's the one that was given to you by the organization upon your arrival, isn't it? What do you know about it?"

"What do I know about it...?" He scratches his head and glances at Elsie. The Eevee had been spending the entire conversation napping on a pillow nearby, but at the mention of her, she perks up and glances over at the two men.

"You mean... what I know about Eevees in general, or what I know about this specific one?" Maes really isn't liking where this conversation is going, but he's got know idea what Kimblee is trying to say. It shows rather bluntly from his tone that he's completely out of the loop in this one.

...rather bluntly indeed.

Kimblee's gaze darts off to the side, looking at Elsie for a moment; the look is neither approving nor disapproving, just calm acknowledgement before he returns his attention to the man across the table.

"Shortly before your arrival in Johto, members of Team Rocket were told to bring the creatures they were given on arrival to the base for some sort of procedure. I'm not sure what the procedure was, exactly - it was referred to as 'microchipping,' and I'm not sure exactly how it was done, but from what I understand some sort of device may have been surgically implanted into the creature itself.

"At the time it was a voluntary procedure; those that refused were expelled from the organization. Do you recall your Eevee being brought in for anything like that?"

His expression remains fairly blank and confused. Maes has never heard of this 'microchipping' and he ha sno idea what it is. But it doesn't sound pleasant, to say the least.

The Eevee, though, seems to have taken a special interest in this conversation. She hasn't moved from her spot, but she has perked up significantly now and seems to be staring intently at both Maes and Kimblee. Whether or not she actually understands what is said is up to interpretation.

"... No. I think I would know if I had to go through something like that."

Whether the Eevee is actually comprehending what they're talking about or is just paying attention because they both looked at her is a bit difficult to tell; either way, that's unnerving, Elsie. Kimblee glances at her again, just long enough to tell that she's staring at them, before deciding that the way Elsie is staring is Seriously Giving Him The Wig and his gaze returns quickly to Hughes.

"From what I've been told, this 'microchipping' is supposed to serve as some sort of...tracking device?" If it were possible for one to shrug verbally, then Kimblee has surely just done so; the upward pitch at the end of that statement is more than enough to imply that Kimblee has no idea what sort of thing they're dealing with, just that it's there. "Judging by the context of the explanation I was given, it's something that will notify the organization of our location at all times. Which, in all bluntness, isn't exactly anything that concerns me, though I don't know whether you feel the same way or not."

He pauses for a moment, drumming the fingertips of his free hand against the table for a moment before continuing. "What concerns me is that the procedure alters the creature's behavior somewhat; it may not have been a terribly drastic change in personality for some - from what I can tell, Archer's...bat seems to have remained more or less the same, but it generally has a more subdued personality. Whereas mine did not, but it certainly acquired one after the procedure. However, regardless of personality changes that may or may not have occurred, the procedure did ensure one thing - that the creature in question belongs to the organization, not you. Its primary loyalty, then, will not be to you, should you do something the organization doesn't like, or if you mishandle its tools, if you get my drift."

Were it any other situation, Maes might be congratulating Elsie for making Kimblee uncomfortable. But as Kimblee goes on to explain the situation as he understood it, Elsie began making Maes uncomfortable.

It's true that he's grown attached to the little creature. She's not human, and he's well aware of that, but she was as close to a daughter as he had here in Johto. He's spent pretty much every moment since he arrived here with her, after all.

The tracking didn't bother Maes that much. Though, the idea of such technology is a bit frightening. Even still, there are ways of going around that -- like leaving his Eevee behind if he didn't want his footsteps to be traced.

But he shifts uncomfortably in his seat at what Kimblee suggests next. He's already had his trust broken once before, by a man named Envy. Or Victor. And as attached as he was to Elsie, she's not Elicia or Gracia.

"How do you know this, exactly?" He has to make sure Kimblee isn't just making things up. Though, he highly doubts Kimblee would.

Kimblee doesn't seem bothered by the question - he doesn't blame Hughes for asking, and he's interpreting it more as a lack of desire to believe such a thing in the first place, rather than any sort of comment on his credibility. Although even if it were, he hardly has anything to hide - while he's not opposed to being horrid for the hell of it once in a while, he's not usually inclined toward telling flat-out lies if he has nothing to gain from them, and he has nothing to gain from this.

And besides, he's a horrible liar most of the time. But that is really neither here nor there.

"It seems my training methods are a bit more...ah, aggressive than the creature in question would have liked. It's currently unusable; to put it lightly, it doesn't like me very much."

"....." That gets a slightly disbelieving look out of Maes. He'd thought the reason would be much more elaborate.

"... Are you sure it wasn't just angry that you weren't treating it well?" He's fairly certain that any creature, if pushed, was capable of fighting back.

"Maybe you should try being nicer to them."

"Have you heard of the move 'Frustration', Lt. Colonel?" Kimblee's reply is prompt; he's actually considered that much in advance, and to be blunt his battling partner is one of the largest nerds Kimblee has met in a while - they've looked into it. "It's one of those moves that strengthens in power based on certain circumstances regarding the creature's upbringing - along the lines of Return, which strengthens based on how well it's treated. Frustration can be said to be Return's inverse; it strengthens in power based on how much it dislikes its trainer.

"The fact that such a move even exists implies that most of these creatures won't attempt to flat-out kill their trainers, regardless of how far you push them. To say nothing of the fact that none of my others have even attempted, and judging by how some of them are, it isn't just that the one had some sort of issue with its personality. The only difference is the microchipping procedure."

Kimblee's earned himself a very exasperated look. Of all the strategies to take, he's decided on this particular one? Maes can't say that all of his Pokemon love him, but he's always treated them with some amount of care. After all, soldiers of war are far stronger when they're united behind a leader they support than a tyrant, right?

Then again, this does seem to make Kimblee the perfect Team Rocket member. Fear makes a pretty good motivator; this much seems to be slowly becoming a Team Rocket motto of sorts.

He sighs a little at this explanation. "I see..." He's not judging Kimblee on how he deals with his Pokemon. Simply tired from all this newly discovered information. And he's beginning to develop a wariness toward Elsie. That can't be good, considering he's supposed to be relying on his team to win him battles.

Kimblee isn't exactly sure how to take that sigh; as such, he just kind of tilts his head a bit and...misinterprets it entirely, don't mind him.

"It isn't as though it's all brutality, Hughes; I simply push harder than most seem to in this place. These creatures are weapons, first and foremost; regardless, I know better than most that sentient weapons have to be treated a certain way. Which is why the one that turned on me came as such a surprise, really."

He's back to toying with the rim of that coffee cup with his left hand, still leaning heavily against the right; he seems to be thinking for a moment before he continues speaking. "I may know of a way to have the procedure reversed, however."

He's noticed the misinterpretation, but doesn't bother commenting on it. Kimblee can think what he wants to think.

Then again, the State Alchemists had been called weapons as well once. And some of them had turned around and pushed back. But Maes really doesn't want to dwell on that thought for too long. He doesn't like the comparisons he's drawing from his current situation to the war he'd worked so hard to push out of his mind.

He's back to gripping onto his coffee mug tightly with both hands as he leans in a bit, resting his elbows on his knees. "Do you? I don't suppose you'd share that bit of information with me?"

Again, Kimblee's response is swift, his fingertips still tracing circles around the rim of that cup as he speaks.

"Tell me, do you know a man named Gorthan? He works within this organization; I believe he's a scientist of some sort. He told me when we were called in for this procedure that he can remove the device, should it come to that; I believe him when he says that he's capable of doing it.

"His personality is aggravating, but the man has a conscience and an almost disturbing amount of interest in culture and history; if all else fails, tell him that you're displeased with your coworkers' methods, and you would like to gather information on those who attacked the Kimono Girls without risking the organization finding out. That should get you reasonably far into his good graces. If he asks where you received the information that he can reverse the procedure in the first place, you're more than welcome to tell him that I referred you to him; I'll gladly take responsibility for talking."

Gorthan. ... Yes, he knows Gorthan. 'An almost disturbing amount of interest' is a good descriptor, actually.

"You've witnessed him do this sort of procedure before?" It's true that Kimblee hasn't lied to him yet, but Maes is still very cautious about trusting him. Anyone whose reasoning for giving information is, 'I'm curious to see what happens' can't possibly be telling the whole truth? Especially not if he's already established himself as a potential enemy in the future.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Learn what you can from the beasts you defeat; you'll need it for some of the people you meet.

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I wish I had a proper icon for this...

This entire thing is kind of defying description at this point

this is very true

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