route_1065 | If I'm not the type of guy you'd like to circumvent, just remember not to love me when I disappear

Entry tags:

If I'm not the type of guy you'd like to circumvent, just remember not to love me when I disappear

Who: Emmy Altava (

snapandscoot); Solf J Kimblee (

explosivecombat)
Where: Goldenrod City
When: The evening of the 22nd
Summary: Completely innocent not-date between friends. Completely innocent. Because it's not like Kimblee's been in the doghouse lately or anything.
Rating: Most likely PG/PG-13 at the highest
Log:

There were days when it paid off well to be living in a region that changed its fashion sense maybe once every two or three years at the fastest and had a department store with an entire section devoted to capes, of all things; Kimblee hadn't exactly been optimistic when he had returned to a store he had last had reason to visit last February, and he hadn't exactly been looking forward to it in any way, either. He had been born upper-class and as such had never felt out-of-place, exactly, in high-end boutiques, but this was the sort of place that was made of entirely too many frills and jeweled things and lacy things and...things he admittedly had no idea what to do with; it was the sort of place where the fondest memories he had of such places in Amestris was finding another guy in the shop, usually sitting outside the fitting rooms, girlfriend's purse firmly in hand and bored look firmly on face - the unspoken conversations carried on with such people, conveyed through expression and soft tilts of the head, were often entertaining enough in their own right to alleviate the monotony somewhat.

He hadn't expected the trip here with Emmy last February to be any better, but her enthusiasm had made the shopping...surprisingly more tolerable; he had been able to tell that this was mostly, if not entirely, a new experience for her, judging by all the excitement over the dresses and the way she seemed to be determined to move like a lady but couldn't quite contain the urge to put just a bit more sway in her walk for the sake of feeling the skirts swish around, and how she didn't seem able to keep herself from twirling a bit in front of the mirrors while asking his opinion.

It had been, for lack of a better term, completely adorable.

There had been other things Kimblee had noticed, however, namely the way she had rather seemed to enjoy a rather extravagant number, warm-colored and quite frankly pulling out all of the stops in terms of formal wear in general. She had taken it into the fitting rooms one last time before making her selection, and then she'd surprised him by selecting another dress entirely; the hesitation in her voice had been almost entirely absent when he'd asked her if she was sure. He hadn't argued the point at the time, but his suspicions had been confirmed when the price was - the one she had selected had been rather less expensive.

Again, however, that had been in February; he was pleased to find the shop still carrying that particular extravagant style months later, in June. Given that it was Johto, he wasn't exactly surprised, but just the same, it made his life just that much easier. He'd sent a message out to Emmy upon purchasing the thing, asking her to clear some time in her schedule for the evening - he would like to take her to dinner, for the sake of catching up; he was punctual, garment bag draped loosely over his arms.

Their last conversation had left reason for Kimblee to believe that she was displeased with him, but his demeanor was casual despite that as he knocked to let her know he'd arrived, shifting the garment bag a bit to do so before resettling. He was dressed far differently than usual himself, having abandoned the usual white-and-pastels in favor of something far darker, the black suit and shirt accented just slightly with the deep purple of the tie. It was classy without being flashy; when one accompanied someone wearing a dress like what he had purchased for Emmy, it was primarily their job to be an accessory, and he was perfectly content with that.

Assuming, of course, this went over well in the first place.

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Kimblee laughed a bit at that as he moved to sit across from her - not before pulling the lady's chair first, however, allowing Emmy to actually sit down once she'd drawn her gaze away from the window; while he had never really been one to stare off at the scenery, the ocean held his attention far longer than such things usually did, even as he spoke to her.

"Don't worry, Miss Altava, I understand the sentiment; it's rather lovely, isn't it?"

He pauses for a moment, shifting his attention back to her. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with your country's geography, or with London - is it near the ocean at all?"

Emmy happily took the seat that Kimblee offered her; could he get any more gentlemanly?

"Ah, London isn't actually on the ocean but it's linked to it; we have a river called the Thames that runs through the city and ends up there! I've been to the seaside a few times, but not recently."

Better not start talking about what happened the last time she was near the ocean. That could open up a whole bag of worms, especially in regards to a certain masked scientist. Taking a look at the wine list, Emmy folded her arms and shook her head slightly, handing it over to Kimblee with a 'you choose, I've never been too good at this'.

"What about Amestris, Mr Kimblee? You said it doesn't touch the ocean, correct?

Kimblee had honestly never been terribly good at selecting wines himself; he was able to place a selection reasonably quickly, however - white wine, based less on whatever they were possibly going to order and more on the fact that red wine ensured that Kimblee's impulse control would be completely dead for the rest of the evening.

Once the order had been placed, he returned his attention to Emmy.

"Ah, its borders aren't anywhere near the ocean, unfortunately; furthermore, almost all of the countries surrounding it are either actively hostile toward Amestris, or there's bad blood between our countries. Xing is the exception, but that country is separated from us by the Eastern Desert, which is considered to be too dangerous to cross by most."

He paused for a moment, looking through the window again. "As partial as I am to Amestris, before my arrival in Johto, I had only left the country once; I hadn't seen the ocean at all before coming here."

"...you'd never seen the ocean? Well, that settles it! We should make our next trip to somewhere on the sea-side; maybe Cianwood! It's quite beautiful; it can be a tropical island getaway, Mr Kimblee!"

Emmy giggles happily to herself as the wine arrives, smiling as the waiter fills her glass.

"We could have a picnic on the beach, and go swimming! We should invite Isaac, too; he looks like the sort to enjoy the water!"

The wine is a good choice; she finds it sweet but not overpowering, and the taste is quite pleasant. It's probably hideously overpriced, but she tries not to think of that. She's had enough of doubting Kimblee; now she just wants to enjoy the night. After all, who knows when she'll experience this sort of thing again?

"I think the Pokemon would enjoy it too; some of mine are too serious. They need to relax a little!"

Her thoughts go to Ralto, and the way he always seemed so concerned whenever Kimblee came over. What on earth is wrong with that boy? Abbie loves Kimblee, so it's not a Psychic Pokemon thing...oh well, whatever it is, he'll probably grow out of it!

"Well, I think that Isaac would like that, as he seemed rather fond of Cianwood while we were there. And you're right in thinking that he likes the water, by the way; he's an alchemist as well, you realize - most of us that came here from Amestris are - and he worked primarily with water and ice. He was incredibly talented, actually; I know he misses it.

I'll see if he would be up for that sort of thing sometime soon; we could all use it, I think."

He paused for a moment, toying with the wineglass while he thought; this had potential to go in a bad direction, depending on what they had actually discussed, but it had to be mentioned eventually.

"Did you ever get in contact with Isaac, by the way? I know that you wanted to talk to him, last time we spoke."

"Ah, I did, yes."

Emmy takes a sip of her wine, before replacing the glass neatly on the table, watching the liquid swishing within it.

"I just wanted to discuss all this...business with him, and see if he was alright. You know, nothing too serious. We hadn't spoken in a while, so."

"Of course, Miss Altava."

He continued playing with the wineglass, however, keeping his gaze downcast.

"I had intended to leave it alone for the majority of the evening, but I think it would be best to not have this hanging over our heads - there are some things that need to be discussed between us, aren't there?"

....ah. She was wondering when it was going to come up. It would be a lie to say Emmy hadn't been dreading the topic, sweating over the fact that she would have to bring it up sooner or later, so the fact that Kimblee had jumped the gun and done it before her was....well, it was quite a relief. She had to hold herself back from visibly relaxing.

"...I suppose you'd be right, Mr Kimblee."

So with any luck her dining partner wouldn't mind if she picked up the menu, holding it up with a sheepish grin.

"...could we possibly order first?"

Kimblee allowed his gaze to shift upwards when Emmy started speaking again, trying to gauge her reaction; the atmosphere between them had changed somewhat, but it didn't seem like a negative shift in the least. The smile and the behavior with the menu confirmed it nicely; he allowed himself to smile a bit in return, though the expression was slightly guarded - this was a good sign, but there was no way of predicting the following discussion. He would just have to see where it went.

But for the time being, he allowed some of the tension to leave him.

"Of course, Miss Altava. Whatever you like."

"Oh good, thank you, I'm starving-"

Emmy opened the menu up and peered at it, ensuring it hid her face, and allowed her calm demeanor to drop for a moment as she bit her lip. At least an order of food should ensure that one of them doesn't just get up and leave; Kimblee had done it before but that was with Lightning in a little cafe. This was on a different scale, so hopefully....hopefully the talk would go well.

Shaking her head slightly, Emmy decided to actually focus on what was in front of her. All of the dishes were filled with obnoxious French words like 'jus' (what on earth was a 'jus'? A...juice?) and for a moment she almost wished Descole was there so he could translate. He said he knew a bit of French, didn't he?

...now was not the time to be thinking about him; Emmy promptly put the menu down daintily and smiled at her ever-so-charming dining partner.

"I think I'll have the steak. What about you, Mr Kimblee?"

At least if she felt the urge to stab something during the conversation, the meat would give her an excuse. That and the fact that she hadn't had a good piece of steak since she'd arrived-

....

...oh god, hopefully it wasn't....Pokemon meat....

Kimblee had, admittedly, settled into the usual pattern of toying with the menu more than he was looking at it; he had gotten better at disguising it, more or less perfecting it in an attempt to keep Archer from noticing, but the sheer amount of options wasn't anything he was terribly thrilled about. It wasn't that the decision was stressful, per se, just...far more difficult than it should have been, and he was grateful when she spoke up offering a direction.

"That does sound lovely, doesn't it..."

His words were a bit absent-sounding; at least it gave him a section of the menu to focus on. Admittedly, though he obviously had no way of knowing her thoughts, his were along the same general line - releasing frustration by lashing out in public or storming out of the building was unacceptable, but it wasn't as though the damn steak would mind being jabbed at a bit more roughly than was really necessary.

"Hopefully you won't mind my following your lead."

"Of course not, Mr Kimblee; I have very good taste, you know~"

With any luck, that would turn out to be true. Regardless, the order was placed without too much trouble, although she was thankful the waiter had managed to translate her look of mild distress when asked what 'jus' she would like with her steak; she'd been seconds away from saying 'orange' when he listed the options, and it finally clicked.

Mushroom and garlic sauce sounded a little more appetizing on steak than orange sauce, anyway.

The menus collected, the order placed, Emmy knew she couldn't delay bringing up the elephant in the room any longer.

...once she'd drained her glass of wine, of course. There, that was better. Right, serious face on, Emmy, it's time to face the music!

"...I suppose I'll let you start, Mr Kimblee. I'm sure you've got something to say since I didn't give you the chance last time we spoke; I'm sorry about that."

...that brief moment of hesitance between "orange" and "mushroom and garlic" was one of those things that rendered it a good thing that Kimblee wasn't a mind-reader; he wouldn't have been able to keep himself from facepalming hard, and it would have been extremely undignified all around.

However, Kimblee found himself more than content to allow her to start; he didn't move to drain the wineglass in the meantime, but at the same time, he was beginning to wonder if there wasn't nearly enough alcohol in his bloodstream for this conversation.

"It's quite all right; I imagine the news must have come as a bit of a shock, wherever you heard it from, and I don't blame you for any suspicions you may have had. However, it isn't something I could discuss with you over the network - it had to be brought up in person. As I was going to be back in town within the next short while, I supposed I could tell you then; I apologize for the fact that you had to hear about it secondhand, but I couldn't do anything about that, myself."

"...it was a bit of a shock, yes, but moreso because...."

Emmy slowly refilled her wineglass, but only to the half-way point. With any luck, she wouldn't feel the need to drain it again.

"....well, I heard those promotions were incredibly hard to get without...a lot of work."

"...normally, that would be the case, yes."

He had been right; there was not nearly enough alcohol in his system right now. He refrained from consuming any more of it, however; again, he was fully aware that his impulse control was horrible, and introducing substances of any sort was a generally bad idea right now.

"However, it seems that Archer is incredibly pleased with how much our friendship seems to be improving; he's happy that I'm in the organization with him, and as he was in line for quite the promotion himself, he put in a word for me. Or, well, I suppose it was closer to several words - he gave me credit for assisting him with several missions he had undertaken alone, some of which I hadn't even been aware that he was behind. He arranged for me to speak to some of our superiors privately; they offered me the promotion shortly after. I saw it as an opportunity, Miss Altava; I have more access to information this way, and those higher up the chain of command will be a bit more willing to listen to me now. I don't have much yet, but it's improvement."

Emmy listened quietly as Kimblee spoke, wine momentarily forgotten. Instead, she looked at her fingers, absorbing everything he was saying. It made sense. It made so much sense. In a way, it was very comforting.

"So Archer pushed to get you promoted along with him. Well, knowing him, that does make a lot of sense."

And that was that! Archer pushed the team to get Kimblee promoted along with himself. End of story.

...if only. She knew she couldn't just leave it there; it was cowardly. Descole had given her more information than just that, and what if he'd had to take risks to get it? What if giving it to her was a risk in itself? How could it not be?

No. She owed it to him, and herself, to follow every lead.

"....could you tell me about the high-ranked woman in the back of the transport vehicle?"

Kimblee paused for a moment, staring; he had a decent idea as to why she would be asking him about that, and he didn't particularly care for it. However, he managed to collect himself reasonably quickly.

"She isn't the leader of the organization - that particular individual has yet to make him- or herself known to the rest of us. She holds the rank of 'Executive,' however, and from what I understand she isn't to be trifled with. She seemed to be in charge of assignments; I was talking to her in the back at one point to try to get a better idea of what Team Rocket is doing as a whole. What the endgame is, so to speak. She was authoritative but polite and she answered my questions directly, but she wasn't forthcoming with information."

He paused for a brief moment, drumming his fingertips lightly against the table; it wasn't an agitated motion, just something to occupy himself with while he thought.

"However, she responds well enough to flattery and subservience to listen to requests and concerns; she was willing to engage me in discussion about things of that nature even before my promotion, though she was decidedly harder to get access to. I've no doubt that I could get on her good side; she seemed to be warming up to me reasonably well despite the lack of information regarding the ultimate goal. It won't be an immediate thing, but I'm fairly sure I could get information out of her."

Another sigh.

"So...why didn't you tell us you had access to someone so powerful? That mission was well over a month ago and...I've heard nothing about it from you. Not what it involved, not what you had to do, and nothing about the fact that you were specifically summoned to talk to this Executive woman."

Running her fingers through her hair, Emmy tried to remain reasonable and calm. Getting angry would do neither of them any favours. The best way to approach this would be as adults, not children screaming and trying to shove the blame onto the other person.

"I just...you have to understand my point of view, Mr Kimblee. I'm not trying to attack you or accuse you of anything, but...these are all things I would have much rather heard from you, but I've gotten nothing. I want to work together with you, but I can't if you don't tell me anything."

"And when, exactly, do you propose that I should have told you about this? We haven't spoken in person for quite some time, Miss Altava, and I've already made it plain that I can't tell you these things over the device."

"....well, you...could have arranged to meet with me. I can't talk to my other informant over the Gear but he manages to find a way to contact me. I just...this is important information, Mr Kimblee. I just thought you might...maybe find it worth passing on to me so we could make a plan. That's all."

This was already going bad. But to her credit, she was staying calm and ladylike. Maybe the dress was good for something after all.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Miss Altava. But I must admit that I find it incredibly troublesome that your informant seems to be selecting information specifically designed to turn you against me. From the sound of it, you spoke to him before meeting me at the Lake of Rage; that was after the mission as well. And yet he didn't tell you about my meeting with that woman before - rather, he focused on telling you about my past and making me sound as dangerous as possible, and he's only just now telling you about this promotion, as though it's another reason to not trust me. Why is that, do you suppose?"

Kimblee's voice was cold, but civil; there wasn't any overt anger present, at least. His expression, as well, was calm - displeased, certainly, but calm. Losing his composure here wasn't an option, regardless of exactly where this conversation led; the location had been selected at least partially to ensure that, on both of their parts - it would hopefully keep her from causing a scene, and he couldn't simply leave the situation regardless of how much he might want to.

"....I don't know."

And she didn't; not really. In reality, Descole's visits hadn't been asked for, but they were certainly not unwelcome, and he was yet to tell her anything untrue, from what she'd seen. But she couldn't deny Kimblee had a point.

"But all the information is true, isn't it?"

Kimblee sighed a bit at that. "You and I both know that's beside the point, Miss Altava; the way information is given is just as important as the information itself. Given your affinity for puzzles and logic games, I think you would understand that."

"...well, why would they be trying to warn me off you?"

Taking another sip of wine, Emmy waits patiently for Kimblee's answer. She wants to understand as much as him, but she also wants to know where Descole is coming from.

One of these two is in the right; she just has to find out who.

The 'Miss Altava...' flashing though Kimblee's mind at that couldn't have been any clearer if he'd spoken it aloud.

"Do you genuinely expect me to know that? You haven't even told me who this person is."

If I'm not the type of guy you'd like to circumvent, just remember not to love me when I disappear

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