Carmen Sandiego (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doitrockapella) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
route_10652013-07-05 02:18 am
doitrockapella) wrote in route_10652013-07-05 02:18 am
I Travel the World and the Seven Seas
Who: Solf J. Kimblee (explosivecombat) and Carmen Sandiego (doitrockapella)
Where: Goldenrod City
When: Thursday, July 4
Summary: One year ago, Kimblee dedicated a particularly infamous set of "fireworks" to Carmen Sandiego; this year, she's decided to take steps to make sure he doesn't repeat the courtesy.
Rating: PG as a default; changes to that will be marked accordingly!
Log:
[It's been a long time since she was last in Goldenrod.
Not counting the brief jaunt she'd made a few months back to help Heather Mason with her equestrian difficulties, it's frankly been the better part of a year since last she found herself here in the biggest city in Johto. It's hard to say whether she's missed it, precisely; it's never been a habit of hers to miss the places she's visited, save for the handful of locales that have managed to win their way into her heart. Oh, Goldenrod has its memories, to be sure — they all do, in one way or another. Some simply resonate stronger than others, that's all.
It's fitting, maybe, that she's here today; Goldenrod is for meetings and anniversaries. It was here at last year's Beltane bonfire festival that she'd first met her detective, a man whose face she'd never seen. Today, she's here again, and this time it's to meet her fellow philosopher — another man whose identity remains largely unknown to her.
She's not fond of the parallels. They're precisely why she would've rathered this took place anywhere but Goldenrod.
But their odd rapport is about exchanges and compromises and trading victories, and ultimately she'd had to sacrifice that particular whim in concession to necessity. And that's why she's here again in Goldenrod City, this time on the fourth of July — one of her favorite holidays, of all the ones she can recite (and there are a lot of them) — and she's biding her time until a mysterious murderous sociopath makes his appearance. What a difference a single year can make.
It's mid-afternoon and she's idling on the boardwalk, aimlessly alternating between window-shopping and admiring the seaside view until the time feels right to set things in motion. She certainly looks the part of an average citizen today; she's foregone her usual red coat and hat (just as she did the last time — ngh, parallels) in exchange for a newer acquisition: a double-breasted dress with short sleeves and bright buttons, all in a crisp hue of navy blue. (That's not unintentional, either: between her red shoes and the breezy white scarf jauntily adorning her neck, she's as patriotic as the holiday deserves.) The silver chain roped from button to pocket across one breast of her dress might seem an insignificant oddity to the casual eye — women in pocket-watches are a somewhat unusual sight anyway, and perhaps moreso with a dress — but of course, it's not there for the benefit of the casual onlooker, but for the one set of eyes in the crowd that will recognize what it means, and who it belongs to.
But the time for preparation soon draws to a close, and the time for action strikes. Giving her gloves one last absent tug, she digs in her pocket for the Gear she'd registered to Locke and thoughtfully appraises the surrounding scenery before lifting it to snap a whimsical picture. A few button presses later, it's on its way to the only other number listed in that Gear's contacts. That should be enough of a clue for him to track her down, she muses.
And if it's not, well. Then her first meeting with Nietzsche is going to be considerably less fun than she'd thought.]
explosivecombat) and Carmen Sandiego (doitrockapella)Where: Goldenrod City
When: Thursday, July 4
Summary: One year ago, Kimblee dedicated a particularly infamous set of "fireworks" to Carmen Sandiego; this year, she's decided to take steps to make sure he doesn't repeat the courtesy.
Rating: PG as a default; changes to that will be marked accordingly!
Log:
[It's been a long time since she was last in Goldenrod.
Not counting the brief jaunt she'd made a few months back to help Heather Mason with her equestrian difficulties, it's frankly been the better part of a year since last she found herself here in the biggest city in Johto. It's hard to say whether she's missed it, precisely; it's never been a habit of hers to miss the places she's visited, save for the handful of locales that have managed to win their way into her heart. Oh, Goldenrod has its memories, to be sure — they all do, in one way or another. Some simply resonate stronger than others, that's all.
It's fitting, maybe, that she's here today; Goldenrod is for meetings and anniversaries. It was here at last year's Beltane bonfire festival that she'd first met her detective, a man whose face she'd never seen. Today, she's here again, and this time it's to meet her fellow philosopher — another man whose identity remains largely unknown to her.
She's not fond of the parallels. They're precisely why she would've rathered this took place anywhere but Goldenrod.
But their odd rapport is about exchanges and compromises and trading victories, and ultimately she'd had to sacrifice that particular whim in concession to necessity. And that's why she's here again in Goldenrod City, this time on the fourth of July — one of her favorite holidays, of all the ones she can recite (and there are a lot of them) — and she's biding her time until a mysterious murderous sociopath makes his appearance. What a difference a single year can make.
It's mid-afternoon and she's idling on the boardwalk, aimlessly alternating between window-shopping and admiring the seaside view until the time feels right to set things in motion. She certainly looks the part of an average citizen today; she's foregone her usual red coat and hat (just as she did the last time — ngh, parallels) in exchange for a newer acquisition: a double-breasted dress with short sleeves and bright buttons, all in a crisp hue of navy blue. (That's not unintentional, either: between her red shoes and the breezy white scarf jauntily adorning her neck, she's as patriotic as the holiday deserves.) The silver chain roped from button to pocket across one breast of her dress might seem an insignificant oddity to the casual eye — women in pocket-watches are a somewhat unusual sight anyway, and perhaps moreso with a dress — but of course, it's not there for the benefit of the casual onlooker, but for the one set of eyes in the crowd that will recognize what it means, and who it belongs to.
But the time for preparation soon draws to a close, and the time for action strikes. Giving her gloves one last absent tug, she digs in her pocket for the Gear she'd registered to Locke and thoughtfully appraises the surrounding scenery before lifting it to snap a whimsical picture. A few button presses later, it's on its way to the only other number listed in that Gear's contacts. That should be enough of a clue for him to track her down, she muses.
And if it's not, well. Then her first meeting with Nietzsche is going to be considerably less fun than she'd thought.]