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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, as long as Ralto didn't start trying to...assist in any way, Kimblee figured that the creature was likely fine; Emmy's behavior, at the very least, didn't seem to change any from what was expected, so he doubted she was receiving any sort of urgent thoughts being beamed into her head regarding her current company. He simply shrugged slightly, slipping his gloves off before he began looking through her bag for supplies; elegant but simple would be best tonight - with a dress like that she didn't need anything too ornate, lest it look overdone.

He rested his hand lightly against her arm while he began applying a light layer of powder to her face; her skin was cool to the touch, his hands having been warmed by the gloves.

"I really am pleased that you agreed to join me tonight, you know." His words were soft, his gaze flicking to meet her eyes before returning to what he was doing. "I was out of town until very recently, meeting up with a friend; otherwise, I would have done this properly, on the seventeenth. But a few days won't hurt anything, I don't think."

The feeling of someone else doing her make-up was relaxing; Emmy closed her eyes happily, enjoying the soft feeling of the brush against her skin. They snapped back open, however, when she felt his hand against her arm; she hadn't even noticed he'd taken his gloves off, so distracted as she was by the powder.

"...w-well, there's no reason I'd decline, I...."

She could feel her cheeks burning again, and bit her lip softly. There was no way she could bring up the promotion now. Not when things were on track to be...well, lovely tonight. She had so many questions and she didn't want to start an argument, especially when he'd bought her something so beautiful, so expensive...

....that uncomfortable thought crept into her head again. Could that have been the reason he bought the dress; so she'd feel too guilty to bring up the elephant in the room? But...no, Mr Kimblee wouldn't do that, that wasn't his style. Still, it seemed slightly odd that he'd get her such an extravagant gift on an ordinary occasion.

No, that was enough; she was being stupid and ungrateful. Mr Kimblee was taking her to dinner! She felt ashamed of herself for suspecting him like that.

Placing a hand over his, she smiled.

"It's fine Mr Kimblee, really; I had things to do myself, so it's no trouble. I'd accompany you anywhere, any time!"

He could tell there was something bothering her; for a brief moment, she had seemed somewhat troubled. He glanced down when she lays her hand over his, however; the direct contact was pleasant, and he smiled a bit as well in turn before averting his gaze downward, gathering a bit more powder on the brush before taking a pass with it over her cheeks.

"It's good to hear you say that, Miss Altava; I've enjoyed getting to know you over this last half a year."

Again, his gaze darted away from what he was doing to look at her a bit more directly before returning to his work. "That's why the seventeenth would have been ideal, you realize; that would have been the six-month mark exactly, since you arrived in Johto. I think we're entitled to a bit of celebrating."

....well. That....well...

"I-I must admit, I was a little confused when you said the seventeenth, I..."

Oh god. No, not now, she's wearing make-up for god's sake-

"...I didn't even realise the date had gone past, you didn't..."

-crying is not an option right now!

"....you didn't have to do all this for me, Mr Kimblee...."

There comes a time when one's emotions just tend to boil and bubble over, resulting in a complete loss of words and no way to show said emotions without using actions. Emmy, however, with a face full of make-up and a ludicrously expensive dress on, found she couldn't express herself in the way she wanted to without risking dirtying Kimblee's beautiful clothes or potentially damaging her own.

She settled for an obviously awkward double shoulder pat.

"I just want to hug you, but I don't want to get p-powder on your jacket or risk anything happening to the dress, I-I...."

Kimblee paused for a moment before setting the brush down in the jar of powder, placing the entire little setup down on the table nearby and then returning his hand to her arm; the other, however, found its way to her hair, stroking it lightly against the top layer and taking care to not muss it up.

"I promise you'll get to hug me before the evening is over, Miss Altava; for the time being, don't worry about anything like cost, or whether I had to do this or not. The point is that I wanted to.

Now, let's get you finished up, shall we?"

Emmy couldn't resist giggling as Kimblee played with her hair, smiling at him. She really did feel spoiled.

"If you insist, Mr Kimblee~"

--

A short time later Emmy found herself holding onto Kimblee's arm as he led her through what looked to be the most expensive part of town. They were near the ocean, with well-dressed people everywhere, some with Pokemon trailing them, others talking into 'Gears or leading their own well-dressed partner into any of the stunning restaurants lining the ocean view.

"I've never even been to this part of town...everyone looks so....well, rich! You still haven't told me where we're going though, Mr Kimblee."

They seemed to have passed most of the restaurants; where on earth could he be leading her?

While Goldenrod City seemed to have been overtaken by the "foreigners" that had been pulled here from different worlds, at least part its original purpose - back when Johto was populated only by the locals - seemed to have been at least partially as a playground for the affluent. What with the casino in town offering rather extravagant prizes for long hours of play, it seemed expected that several of those spending time in Goldenrod would have money to burn.

Kimblee allowed his hand to rest lightly on Emmy's as he walked with her; the gesture was both for the sake of comfortable positioning and to serve as a sort of reassurance, to discourage any potential thoughts that she might seem out-of-place. His own mannerisms were calm but confident - they were a bit tight, in comparison to his relaxed demeanor up at the Lake of Rage, but just the same it was clear that he wasn't uncomfortable with the area in the least.

That said, however, he was incredibly amused by her initial assessment, there.

"Miss Altava, I assure you that you look every bit as refined as anyone else here."

He didn't bother answering the implied question of exactly where they were going, however, as it came into view shortly after; the place Kimblee was taking Emmy was a bit more secluded - more than enough to provide an air of intimacy, at least, nestled tightly against the large rocks along the shoreline. The building itself was large and obviously elegant, but in a decidedly more understated sort of way than the establishments that were closer to the center of town. Those were flashier, attention-grabbing, proving a strong contrast with the much quieter, refined air of the building in front of them; Kimblee found that he far preferred the latter over the former. The former, while incredibly upscale in their own right, catered rather well to those who were throwing their money around and didn't care who saw them do it; this place, with its far more intimate atmosphere and large windows overlooking the sea, seemed to attract those who had money to throw around but were secure enough to not care whether anyone saw them doing it or not.

Whether anyone actually did see them doing it or not, however, there was still no question that whomever went in there would certainly be spending; clearly, Kimblee had decided that money simply was not an object this evening.

"I apologize for it being so out-of-the-way, but I thought we might prefer somewhere a bit more personal than most of the establishments in-town; I hope you'll like it."

As they approached the restaurant, Emmy managed to catch a glance of the name written in simple, elegant letters along the top. Her eyes widened.

"M-Mr Kimblee, not here, it's...it's one of the most expensive restaurants in Johto, I read about it in a food magazine I-"

She didn't stop walking, but she did clutch his arm with both hands, pulling on him gently. Her voice was a low whisper; she'd never dare cause a scene in this part of town, after all. Especially not after Kimblee had gone to so much trouble.

"You don't have to take me here, it's...not after the dress, this is too much, I'm not..."

Kimblee paused for a moment, stopping in response to that light tugging on his arm; he didn't seem bothered, and that light smile was back.

"I believe I told you before we left not to worry about either cost or obligation, didn't I?" Despite his words, his tone was light. "It's not as though I intend to make this a weekly occurrence, Miss Altava; it's a special occasion, and I consider it to be worth it."

"I....well, if you're sure....."

She's still not sure she is, but Emmy doesn't resist as they enter the restaurant. That niggling feeling is still playing around her head, having intensified when she saw the place Kimblee was taking her. First the dress, now the food...could this really just be an anniversary gift? But she hasn't gotten him anything, and something tells her there's no way in hell he'll allow her to pick up the tab at the end of the meal. What, then, could it be?

Emmy shuts her eyes sharply, before reopening them; she's being ridiculous. Why can't she just accept his gift and get over it? The way she's thinking, she doesn't deserve a friend like Kimblee, who is willing to spend so much money on her! Shame spreads through her body, and she frowns slightly. What a way to think. She'd be mortified if Kimblee could hear her thoughts.

Still, Abby's invisible presence, only metres behind them, does give her comfort.

She follows Kimblee inside, and after he speaks briefly with an exceptionally subservient maître d', they're led to a rather private table for two overlooking the water.

It's beautiful.

"This is....this is truly magnificent, Mr Kimblee."

Emmy stands transfixed by the way the light of the moon reflects gently against the waves, almost forgetting to sit down.

"If only I'd brought my camera.....a-ah, not that I'd go around taking photos in here, that would be terribly unladylike..."

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."

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