You're like a kiss of life.

[licentious]

Who: Lust and Mr. Kimblee!
Where: Goldenrod City.
When: Backdated to February 15th.
Summary: At an award winning Goldenrod Restaurant, Lust and Kimblee plot evil over fine wine and moderately priced meals
Rating: Nothing above PG.

[ It has been quite some time since they've seen each other, but, to Lust, this just meant that she must try her best to make sure she's still in Kimblee's general thoughts. And, with this thought, she was certainly dressed to impress. Adorned with her hair swept up with a wonderful up-do and wearing a dress that would quite possibly cost someone their started pokémon, she figured the best way to Kimblee's heart and mind, besides blowing up a daycare, would be to simply match him in class and ideas.

She may not like being lower in rank compared to a human, especially one that used to serve under them, but, he had quite tolerable opinions and, unlike most people, isn't just yet another reason to wish armageddon would speed itself up and rapture their ass off the planet. She quickly orders a glass of red wine for drinks as she folds her hands and focuses a soft and interested glance on Kimblee. ]


Ah, it's been quite sometime that we've done this together. How has life been treating you? [ She just can't tactlessly go for the deep details immediately. It's just not her style. It's best to make them both comfortable and slowly unravel the true meat. Not to mention, it'll make their conversation seemingly blend in with any other people who happen to be in the vicinity. ]

Comments

[explosivecombat]

[Well, Kimblee couldn't say that he wasn't at least somewhat flattered by the attention - it had been quite some time, after all, since he had been alone with a woman on what would likely be considered a date by outsiders; granted, it was also a thing he didn't realize that he had legitimately missed until right now, because his mental timing had always been fantastic like that. However, whatever this place had done to them physically, he was still very aware that Lust wasn't human, though that was something he wasn't about to say in mixed company, of course, lest he bring down the ire of the establishment on him for saying something so degrading about his admittedly quite lovely date for the evening; the thought amused him somewhat, really, given that she would likely be more pleased than anything that he was willing to keep all of that in mind. However, as familiar as he was with her true nature and as calm and casual though they may have been about this entire evening, there was still an edge to the whole thing that wouldn't be dismissed easily; meeting her gaze and tipping his head a bit in approval of the request for wine, he was fully aware that he wouldn't want to dismiss it even if he were capable.

Maybe it was sick, or at least masochistic; he couldn't say for sure. But this is what he had always enjoyed about working with the Homunculi - they would often pretend to engage him on an even plane, but the levels of power between them and himself were so inherently broken that just being around them for long was risk-taking in and of itself. The knowledge that the woman across from him could have killed him at any given point back in Amestris had never been a deterrent, even then, nor had the knowledge that she or one of her siblings eventually would do so, regardless of the outcome of this little war they were waging with God, the world, and the forces that be. It had never been anything he found degrading, either - being seen as a lesser species but kept around anyway indicated that, at least for the time being, he was useful; if anything, he found it flattering, especially compared to the scrutiny he had been placed under in Ishval (and despite the compliments and the way that it was made plain that he was one of The Favored back then, there had been a fair amount of scrutiny, from those waiting for him to make some sort of crucial mistake) and the more recent bouts of neurosis from Archer, who seemed convinced that he wasn't able to do his job properly without getting himself injured or destroyed spectacularly in the process. Archer didn't seem to understand that that was part of his job description; he was to avoid getting killed, obviously, as being dead wasn't terribly conducive to work, but should it come to that, he was more than willing to take whatever consequences were doled out - by others, by his superiors, by the world as a whole. If that meant that his life would be ended, then so be it; it had always mattered very little to him, and he wasn't exactly surprised that it continued to matter very little to him here.

There were other unpleasantries that came with this world, granted, little thoughts and realizations that he'd had too much time to dwell on in the last sixteen months - the fact that the Homunculi's superiority had been thoroughly disproved was one; the slightly more unsettling fact that being in the midst of a life-threatening situation was really the only time he felt alive at all, as opposed to the usual cold apathy, was another. He had been able to thrive in Amestris due to its constant state of war, because of the fact that the Homunculi were most certainly going to kill him, not in spite of it; that knowledge wasn't something he was exactly sure how to process.

It was something he was more than content to push aside for now, however; he was entirely certain that Lust wasn't here to play therapist, and he wouldn't want her to besides - he was more than content to be amused at their attempts at playing normal, at her expensive dress and perfectly upswept hair and the way that he's exchanged the usual white suit for black, all sleek modern lines and dark gloves to match, and they're out on a date and pretending like they're people, and behind the gentle expression playing across his features is carefully bitten-back wariness and an elevated pulse and the knowledge that he's been without this for too long.

Even though he's been fairly distant from the Homunculi during his stay here, and even though he currently outranks her in this lovely organization they've both been thrown into, in that moment he knows that he would still gladly follow any orders she chose to give him. The thought was familiar, oddly comforting in its own way.

...it's definitely either sick or masochistic. He'll deal with that later; he just smiles a bit for now.]

I can't complain; if anything, I've been a bit busy, but you know how I am with regards to idleness - if "a lack of boredom" is my largest problem, I'd say I'm doing well for myself.

And you? You look rather well - lovely as always, surely.

[licentious]

[ Lust's eyes continue to sweep around the room. There was something about this that was almost contemptuous. This scenario, in and of itself, was both a saving grace and another reason for her to wish she had her philosopher's stone so she could just open season on most of the fools in Johto. This world was, for lack of a better idea, entirely backwards to Lust. Kimblee was superior. Envy wasn't even Envy. All of her colleagues have shown up at least once, only to return without a word or influence. There was no trace of them. Their pokemon have vanished, only the people native to this world would know who they were, and, more tellingly, the tattoos that decorated their body had no significant meaning. Lust sometimes went without something to cover her upper chest, and no one even batted an eyelash at the unusual adornment on her chest. Her presence here wasn't very significant. Her only contribution, thus far, has been isolating qualities that make Voltorb's blow themselves up and making sure the illegal shipping operation in Vermillon wasn't just a giant money pit.

But, the worst thing of all was the lack of death. People get beaten, set on fire, caught in explosions, paralyzed, poisoned, and they're still alive. What was once a special trait for Lust, something that required hundreds of sacrifices, was no longer special. It was available to everyone. The number one desire for humanity, the reason why she could line up so many sacrifices and just off one if it didn't work out, was suddenly destroyed. And, they still dislike their circumstances. She just didn't understand. What more could people want besides power and immortality? They had access to both with their level one hundred water turtles running around and their lack of death. It just bothered her, wherever she went.

And, it's why she's turning to Kimblee now. Never before has she looked at him as a paragon of sanity, of how things could and should be, but, in reality, he is exactly as he was in Amestris. Powerful, creative, and, as always, very happy to demolish things in bright intense explosions. He has remained relatively unchanged in Lust's eyes. He's still welcoming, supportive, and, most of all, he's still far above most of the people here. He was always intended to live until the end, or rebellion, whichever one came from him first. It was most of the Homunculi that looked favorably upon Kimblee, and even agreed that, if he was willing to take the test, that he could form an adequate replacement for Wrath should he die. Too bad Pride is a little rebellious shit who never listens. ]

I understand. I've been feeling quite the opposite. Things are quite idle compared to how they are at home. There's a distinct lack of foreign relations. [ Translation: war. And possibly civil unrest. ] It almost feels that sometimes I'm one of those unlucky men that have to clear the pipes of icicles off of Briggs with just how dry things are here.

[explosivecombat]

[He laughs a bit at that, the sound soft and brief; there's nothing derisive in it, at least, which is more than can be said under most circumstances when that reaction isn't completely maniacal.]

A shame, really. And even our dear friends at Briggs were striving toward some sort of ridiculously complex unity - at least, that's the impression the Drachman army took away when they were given Amestris' regards.

[He leans forward a bit, folding his hands lightly on the tabletop; his index finger of his right traces gently over the edge of the glove on the left, running over the hem where the fabric ends and his wrist is just visible beneath his sleeve. Lust isn't the only one with marks that meant next to nothing in Johto; there were a few practical reasons Kimblee had for keeping his hands covered - after all, if he were going to be engaging in criminal activity in the way he had been here, there was no sense in exposing identifying marks to the world and giving them an easy way to verify his identity, should something happen to his gloves in the middle of a raid - but the primary reason was honestly one he didn't care to discuss with anyone, that being that he simply couldn't stand seeing them at this point.

The amount of issues at this table, seriously.]

Of course, I've been striving toward a higher goal, myself; something a few colleagues and I are putting together. Given as I've worked under you for so many years back in Amestris, it would hardly be fair if I were to leave you idle, now, would it?

[licentious]

Oh, but of course. The army must always remain organized and tight nit. Otherwise, it's just chaos and nothing ever gets done. The people, however, aren't so reliant on unity. [ And that's why she's so effective at causing genocide: the manifesto.

Lust notices the tracing, but, she just assumes that it's out of a sudden impulse, or, should she concur with muscle memory, that causes this. Kimblee has always used his hands when it comes to alchemy, and she can definitely sympathize with the almost subconscious movement and subsequent expectation that something dangerous happens. Many times she's tried to shoot out her fingernails only to see that they're currently not functioning. Multi-century habits die hard.

Hearing Kimblee's offer inspires her on some part. A freedom to the listless ennui she quite frequently feels in this location would be a godsend. Immediately, she folds one hand over the over. She remains silent as the server pours her wine and then dismisses her with a grateful nod before continuing.

Something he and his colleagues are working on? Sounds dangerous. Sounds preposterous. Sounds absolutely life changing. She's in. ]

Well, I am quite known for my fairness. [ Really, it's unfairness but she's kinda fair to Kimblee. I mean, he blows up people and she gives him a philosopher's stones! ] However, I will admit, if you have a cure to a simple life of maintaining shipping orders, I'd gladly be interested in it.

[explosivecombat]

[He smirks a bit at that "fairness" remark, arching an eyebrow lightly as he does so, though his expression doesn't slip far before it's back to the usual cold placidity.]

You are being underutilized. Who do they have you assigned to work under, though curiosity?

[Whomever it is, he supposes they deserve pity - not because Lust is intolerable, because she isn't, really, but because he imagines the resulting common interactions must be at least somewhat entertaining for reasons the other individual likely has no idea about.

But really, let's do this thing; it'll be...well. You have the "preposterous" part right, at any rate, as there is no direction this can go in that isn't dumb as hell.]

[licentious]

[ She gives a coy smile in response to the eyebrow quirk. She knows it's a blatant lie, but, at least it was an amusing one. ] They have me assigned to work under Commander Cobra as his personal assistant. [ She pauses. Her lips slightly quiver under the pressure to keep her face as straight as possible, even if Lust is trying to resist temptation to laugh at just how incredibly awful her luck can be sometimes.

I mean, she did appreciate some of Cobra's antics. His outright villainy made it great to just stir the pot and then have him take the credit for it, but, otherwise, his hit and miss competence can easily get on Lust's nerves. ]