OOC: LOG POST

[crossmeonce]

Who: Naoto and Kimbley
What: Kimbley drops by for a visit.
Where: The Underground City
Why: Who knows? Naoto certainly doesn't.
When: Yesterday.
Other: PG-13


It was cold even here, Kimbley mused to himself, though not as bad as Briggs (nothing was as bad as Briggs). Gloved fingers flexed slightly -- he'd worn them today to keep off the chill -- as he kept a seemingly indifferent glance about him, surveying his surroundings with interest.

Humming under his breath, he pushed open the door to a restaurant, his casual strides taking him to a seat at the bar.

The cold was what had brought Naoto into Buon Viaggio for a cup of hazelnut coffee -- probably the only coffee she could stand. Kiri had kept her company for awhile before she and Mihai left to run an errand, leaving Naoto alone with her thoughts and a mug that barely warmed her ice-cold fingertips.

Alone until someone took a seat at the bar, at any rate. She didn't spare him a glance, but now her attention was evenly divided between the newcomer -- too late to be a lunchtime crowd straggler -- and her coffee.

He took his time, peeling off his gloves slowly, neatly laying them alongside his hat as he surveyed the bottles on the far wall.

"Good afternoon, Naoto," he said simply, watching her out of the corner of his eye, a small smile on his lips. "How are you today?"

Well, that was one way to get her attention. Almost immediately, her right hand was trailing just above the hem of her dress near her side, looking to anyone else like she was merely smoothing the fabric. She glanced over at the man who had addressed her, and all of her defenses nearly faltered as she saw who it was. Her eyes widened slightly.

"Kimbley?"

The corners of his lips twitched at that, a soft laugh escaping him at Naoto's surprise. Kimbley linked his fingers together, resting his chin on his hands as he replied. "Something the matter?" he asked, sounding perfectly curious, as if he hadn't the slightest idea what she might be concerned about.

He was very different in person. Definitely taller than she'd thought. Naoto cleared her throat, almost as a way of regaining her composure, but her thoughts were still racing. What was he doing in the city?

"No," she answered, placing both hands on the mug again and raising it to her lips. "I recommend the hazelnut coffee."

Kimbley raised his hand to get the waitress's attention, the motion revealing the tattoo inked into his palm as he ordered his drink. "You haven't answered my first question," he remarked, noting her slight discomfort.

She took note of the tattoos, of course. "I wasn't expecting to see you here," she said, lowering the cup and giving him what she hoped was something resembling a smile.

"No?" He thanked the waitress as his drink slid across the counter, fragrant steam curling faintly from the top, handing over a creased bill. If one looked very closely, there was a faint red stain in one corner that looked to be drying a suspicious brown color...

"So this is the Underground," he murmured, noticing the odd expression on her face with some amusement. "Interesting."

"So it is." How had he managed to get their currency? She took another sip of her coffee, glancing at him over the rim of her cup. Naoto paid a lot of attention to her surroundings and the people in them. Normally she was able to discern, to some degree, a person's reason or motive for doing something. But Kimbley was different. Try as she might, she couldn't figure this one out. But when all else fails...

"...What brings you here?"

The coffee was precisely as good as promised, although perhaps a tad sweet for his taste. The girl was still on edge, he could feel it in the slight tenseness between them. Smiling openly, disarmingly, he looked over, meeting her gaze steadily. "Curiosity, my dear," he drawled. "Intelligent conversation is always a pleasant indulgence."

"These are quite the lengths to go for mere curiosity," she said, her eyes not leaving his as she set the cup down on the counter.

Kimbley didn't answer that, merely tilting his head to the side as he held her gaze, smile never faltering.

She felt her cheeks growing warm -- maybe the coffee was finally starting to kick in -- and averted her gaze.

"I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the layout of the streets," he continued smoothly, eyes glinting with a hint of something that might be called playfulness in someone else. "Perhaps you would care for a stroll?"

She glanced over at the doorway near the kitchen. The waitress and Zack were both peering out at her with bemused looks on their faces, and her eyes narrowed slightly in their direction. "...Of course," she said, straightening and looking over at Kimbley. "Whenever you're ready."

Draining the last of his coffee, he set the cup aside, slipping his gloves into his pocket as he offered an arm to Naoto politely. "Shall we?" he inquired, casting a glance outside. With this kind of chill, he half expected it to be snowing fiercely -- but of course, they were underground.

She tossed a few bills on the counter more out of habit than anything else. She briefly froze when she saw him offering his arm to her, but after a moment she reached back and grabbed a long, thin case, hefting the strap up over her shoulder before hesitantly taking his arm.

Kimbley eyed the case, but passed no comment for the moment. Easing his hat onto his head, he carefully led her to the door, holding it open. "Tell me about the Underground," he said. Perhaps she'd be more open in person, though from their succinct conversation so far, he wondered if he would get more of an answer, or none at all.

Naoto inwardly shivered as the cool air hit her face. Not even tights and a scarf were much help this time of year, and her gloved fingers involuntarily tightened on his arm. There were a million thoughts racing through her mind, and almost all of them were centered on Kimbley. So much, in fact, that she barely heard his question. She waited a moment before answering.

"There's not much to tell."

He walked slowly, not so much as to wait for her, but merely because there was no hurry. "I'd be delighted to hear what you have to share," he informed her with another wry twist of his lips. "I am unfamiliar with it, after all."

"How long are you staying?" Where were they even going? She supposed as long as they stayed on the main drag they'd be fine, but if they wandered too far into the alleys they'd probably run into trouble. And besides, she thought wryly as she glanced at his obviously expensive coat out of the corner of her eye, it'd be a shame if something happened.

Kimbley sidestepped another pedestrian, pulling a heavy silver pocket watch out of his pocket. "I have several hours," he assured her calmly. "My appointments tend to be...flexible." If Pride wished to contact him, in any case, the homunculus was sure to find a way.

"Ah."

Kimbley hummed under his breath, looking around with interest. The architecture was quite less authoritarian than he was used to, certainly. The silence stretched comfortably between them for a few minutes as he continued to observe his tacturn companion. "You say you grew up here, no?" he inquires casually.

"...Around here, yes." It was odd. While his interest wasn't unwelcome, she still wasn't sure of what to make of it. Her business was information, first and foremost, and it was hard to forge any sort of personal relationship in such a field. But the more they talked, the quieter the warning bells in the back of her mind got, and she was slowly becoming more relaxed around him. Perhaps this behaviour was normal, where Kimbley was from.

As the grip on his arm relaxed minutely, Kimbley couldn't help another smirk. "It seems a rather relaxed atmosphere at the moment." Glancing at her, he paused at an intersection, glancing down the streets. "Which way, hm?"

It seemed he would have to take this carefully -- Naoto was a cautious girl. If he spooked her now, it would be such a pity.

"That depends on where you'd like to go." There were a few restaurants to the right, and shops across the street that she was sure he'd have absolutely no interest in.

Evasive as ever, Kimbley mused to himself. "Where would you like to go, my dear?" he said instead, holding her gaze.

"You're the guest," she replied without missing a beat. Seeing that this was going nowhere, however, she decided to take the initiative.

As soon as she figured out how to do so in this particular situation.

"...Have you eaten yet?"

Problem solved. She hoped.

"I'm afraid not." Kimbley nodded at a nearby shop, not missing Naoto's implication. "Shall we pause for a meal, then?"

"All right."

Once they were seated in the restaurant with menus in hand, she allowed herself to relax a bit more. Perhaps he really had come here just to sightsee -- although she couldn't imagine why. She'd never seen his world, but she was willing to bet it was nicer than this. Probably warmer, too.

So far, the city seemed a relatively normal one, citizens going about their business. He hadn't seen law enforcement -- either this was a town where it wasn't necessary (unlikely), or something else held the more dangerous elements in check.

Kimbley traced a finger down the menu. "Is it always this quiet in the city?"

Quiet? This city? She hadn't noticed. Perhaps knowing what went on in the underbelly and back alleyways sullied one's view of it. Or maybe she was just severely nearsighted, searching out and exploiting the decidedly negative traits of the city more than the positive ones. She'd started to wonder lately if it was the latter more than the former.

"The main streets tend to be fairly quiet," she said after a minute. Even from an outsider's point of view, using 'quiet' to describe the city felt almost wrong.

Every city had its more intriguing areas -- this one seemed to be no exception. Pointing out his order, he handed back the menu to the waiter, leaning forward and steepling his fingers. "I take it the government likes to keep up appearances?"

"They do," she replied, with no hint either way as to the amount of corruption and dirty money within the government itself. With the way Kimbley was speaking, it sounded like he'd already figured that out. "Although I wouldn't know much about those appearances."

Ah. So there was a government. Perhaps not military, although he doubted that walking through civilian areas would allow him to spot barracks.

Naoto's remark earned a quirk of his eyebrows. "And why not?"

Her answer was interrupted by the tea the waiter set down in front of her, and she wasted no time in picking the cup up and taking a sip, hoping her fingertips would glean some of the warmth. Even the gloves weren't helping today, it seemed.

"I don't concern myself with appearances."

Kimbley reached for his own drink, studying her over the rim of the cup. "A wise decision," he replied, the cup pleasantly warm against his palms as he favored her with another smile.

She hadn't yet decided if she liked those long, lingering gazes of his. Gaining someone's favor or interest was not necessarily bad, but his eyes and his smile left a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, as if she were forgetting something important.

For the moment, she merely averted her gaze to her cup, taking another slow sip of the hot liquid.

He knew perfectly well precisely how people viewed him, and to see her avert her gaze was nothing new. Kimbley half closed his eyes now, taking a slow sip of his tea as the silence stretched between them.

So far, he had gained little. A government hiding corruption in a town was nothing new, nothing surprising. He had no doubt that loudmouthed redhead could have supplied him with more information.

Still, this was amusing in a cat and mouse way -- he hadn't precisely pounced yet, but her continuous evasion perhaps would require a slightly firmer move on his part.

"If I may ask, what is that?" Kimbley nodded at the slender case beside Naoto.

Naoto paused, the rim of the cup barely touching her lower lip. Her gaze flickered up, meeting his half-lidded stare. "A memento," she said simply, lowering the cup to the table. "May I ask you something, Kimbley?"

Not missing a beat, he too set his cup down, mirroring her movement. "Hm?" His curiosity was piqued by her answer, but he kept his eyes on her. Eventually, he'd be able to tease the answer out. People trusted smiles far too much.

The question died on her lips as she stared at him, and after a moment she sat back, her voice low. "Wit and a charming smile only go so far in this city," she said, keeping her tone neutral. One gloved finger traced the handle of the cup, her eyes never leaving his. "If there's something you'd like to know, then I suggest you ask it clearly."

"That wasn't a question, my dear," he informed her, dark humor flashing in his eyes. Leaning back as the waiter set a dish in front of him, he held her gaze. "As for my question, I do believe I've already asked it," he reminded her. It would be more interesting to see which aspect of the Underground she would tell him about, rather than directing her answers (at the moment).

"And I answered," she replied, picking up her fork. "However, I can't help but wonder if there isn't something else you're asking after."

His spoon dipped into the soup as he began to eat, not put off by her questioning. "Is there something else I should be asking for?" he countered.

She fell silent, absentmindedly twirling some pasta around on her fork as she watched him.

"...I don't know," she finally said.

How interesting, Kimbley thought to himself, keeping his expression carefully composed. "Something on your mind?"

"Aside from what sort of business someone like yourself would have down here?" It was bothering her, that she couldn't figure him out. What did he want?

Such suspicion and unwillingness to take his word for granted. He was going to enjoy this little game of words, he could tell.

"Can one not have a casual conversation in the Underground?" he mused, reaching for the salt, adding some to his meal.

"You don't strike me as the type for casual conversation." In fact, he did, on occasion. But taking a shot in the dark and hoping to find out something was better than this cat-and-mouse dance with words he seemed so fond of.

If she watched closely, she would see a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. He remembered all too well exactly how interesting his last 'casual conversation' had turned out -- the one with Badou. This time, though, he'd sought her, he'd set the stage. This was his show. "I'm a man of many tastes," he said just as carefully, voice low and calm.

Let her take that how she liked.

It was far from the end of the conversation, but for now, she remained silent, eating the rest of her lunch. They exchanged only a few polite words about the food and atmosphere, but it seemed like she was content to remain silent, even when the waiter brought her another cup of tea.

The meal was paid for by him -- Kimbley waved away her money with another polite smile. Her continued wariness only pleased him; he dealt in fear and respect (of the one-sided kind), two cards he knew very well how to play. Dishes cleared away, he accepted another hot drink himself, casually leaning back. "What sort of memento?" he asked, abruptly turning the topic back to her, pointedly looking at the case once more. "Do forgive my curiosity."

A memory resurfaced at those words, one she hadn't had in a very long time. Badou, with that half-smirk half-grimace, pulling his eyepatch away -- You'd better quit, or you'll end up like this.

Her fingers twitched around the handle of the cup. She and Kimbley were very much alike, in a way. They both didn't seem to know how to take no for an answer.

Perhaps she should try a different approach with this conversation, then.

"It's a memento from my father." She took a sip of tea, the too-hot liquid biting into her tongue.

"Is that right?" Kimbley blew on the tea lightly, pursed lips hiding another smirk. "He must be very important to you," he added. "That is no simple locket or mere trinket."

"...He was."

"Was?" Kimbley murmured, drinking his tea now. Not strong enough, pity. "My condolences, my dear."

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. She said nothing in response, but for some reason, the last person in the world she wanted to hear such a ridiculous thing from was him.

"How kind of you," she finally said, but the words lacked any meaning behind them. Not unlike his 'condolences'.

Now he'd gotten some kind of response -- anger, annoyance? He half-shut his eyes again, the motion giving him a languid look as he continued to examine her, letting the tension ease into silence for now, contemplating his next question.

Tension and silence were nothing new to Naoto, and even if she had been the least bit put off by it, she wouldn't let it show. She raised the cup to her lips again. Kimbley was polite online and he was polite in person, but there was something else, as well. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He hadn't been openly hostile to her in the least, and really, his only trespass was that he was perhaps a bit too fond of asking questions. So why did she feel the need for hostility? Why couldn't she relax around him?

She couldn't find her answers, and it was bothering her more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

Kimbley suddenly set his cup down, leaning forwards sharply. "Where are my manners," he tsked. "I've been quite rude -- talking this entire time, without letting you get in a word edgewise."

The sudden action caused her to lean back slightly, not just from the abrupt change of subject and intensity. "Ah. It's all right." She set her cup down as well.

Naoto seemed quite unwilling to offer anything, he mused, eyes roving over the objects on the table. Perhaps he'd have to tease out her curiosity another way.

"Would you like to see alchemy?" he inquired, picking up the sugar bowl, examining the contents. Satisfied, he placed it in the middle of the table, considering it for a moment before he tipped the rest (most) of his tea into it, the white grains floating slightly in the now mixture. He prodded them down with one finger, reaching in his jacket for a piece of wrapped charcoal, sketching quickly on the table, fingers deft. "Does this look familiar at all?"

Her eyebrows shot up at his question, and she wordlessly nodded, watching carefully as he tipped the sugar into his tea. Her eyes never left him as he pulled the charcoal out, and she didn't care enough to point out that he was sketching onto a fabric tablecloth. At his second question, she leaned over slightly to get a better view of what he had sketched, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"No. What is it?"

Kimbley smoothed out the tablecloth slightly, adding another mark just beside the cup, dark lines completely surrounding it. "This is one of the arrays used to work reactions, if you recall our previous discussion," he replied. "Tell me, Naoto, what is in the cup?" That light, toying tone was back in his voice, but modulated to avoid a condescending slant.

So that was what an array looked like. Her eyes glanced from the array back up to him, one eyebrow arched.

"Sugar and tea. Hydrogen, carbon, oxygen..."

"Correct," Kimbley replied smoothly, smiling at her. "With alchemy, one can rearrange elements as one sees fit." Yellow light darted over the cup as the contents hissed and bubbled, liquid seemingly boiling away until a dull grey sphere sat in the bottom. He tipped it towards her, letting it roll out onto the table. "Like that."

Her fingers brushed against it, expecting it to be hot, but it was surprisingly freezing to the touch. The gray began to flake off, revealing something smooth, shiny and pale blue. Her eyes widened slightly, and she took the diamond into the palm of her hand, brushing off the rest of the gray film covering it. She looked back up at him, an incredulous look in her eyes.

"That's. Very impressive."

Kimbley chuckled, pleased at that, leaning back, fingers clasped in his lap. "That is also illegal," he informed her, "but I do believe you can keep a secret, can't you, my dear?"

She brushed her thumb across the top of the diamond, and if he was watching close enough, he would have seen the corner of her mouth twitch up in something akin to amusement. "Of course," she said, reaching over and pressing the diamond into his palm. "If you'd be so inclined to show me what exactly the arrays on your hands do."

He raised an eyebrow, something strange darting behind the pleasant expression in his eyes for a split-second as her fingers brushed against his palm. "Of course," he murmured.

As a waiter slid by their table, concentrating on balancing dishes, Kimbley contemplated reaching out, grabbing the man -- that would make quite a demonstration.

Still, perhaps he'd better play this next hand carefully. Fingering the diamond, he held it up to the light. "I don't suppose you'd like to keep this?"

"Illegal, yes?" She sat back, her eyes meeting his. "Physical evidence can be quite damning." More than anything, she wanted to see what those arrays did.

Holding her gaze, he let the diamond fall back into his palm, other hand coming up to trap it between the arrays as he half-closed his eyes, looking almost like he was praying. "Indeed."

With a flourish, he turned his hands sideways, fingers parting to reveal the diamond beginning to dull in his hands. Letting it roll down to his fingers, he gave it a spin as it dropped onto the table like a top, skittering towards her slightly. A wide smile curved his lips. "Don't lean forwards, my dear."

She decided it'd be best to take his advice, leaning back as far as she could and pressing her shoulders against the back of the booth. She heard something akin to a high-pitched whining, and then the diamond did more than explode - she could feel the heat from it on her face, and when the dust settled there was a nice-sized hole in the table, and a bit of the tablecloth was on fire. For all she could tell, the diamond had evaporated, but how he'd managed to contain the explosion so that they both weren't injured was beyond her.

She sat there for a moment, dumbfounded, and then suddenly one hand was grabbing her sword case and the other was grabbing his sleeve, tugging him out of the booth and out the door of the restaurant, not bothering to look back as she all but dragged him down the street and ducked around the corner into a small gap between buildings.

Kimbley'd watched the explosion with satisfaction (these reactions, despite what others might say, did take quite a degree of control), eyes flicking up to her face expectantly -- or where it had been, when a slender hand clamped around his wrist and yanked. She was stronger than he had expected, but he didn't resist being pulled, laughter soft at first, then growing louder as she dragged him into the alley.

"Did I scare you?" he asked, catching his breath now, lips twitching at the corners as he fought his mirth down, shoulders shaking slightly with the effort. "I do so apologize."

She ran a hand through her hair, letting out a shaky sigh as she glanced back at him. "I just wasn't expecting that." She hefted her sword back onto her shoulder, glancing out onto the street for good measure. "I don't think they're coming after us."

He leaned slightly out of the alley, listening for a moment before he turned his attention back to her. It seemed she wasn't precisely frightened, more worried of undue attention. "I doubt anyone will realize what has happened," he mused, a hand brushing back his bangs, hat having been abandoned in their flight. He leaned slightly against a wall, watching her, noting how she held the case. "Well. Does that answer your question?"

"For the most part." She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, straightening and regaining her composure. Another glance at the street, and then back at him. "Well."

Kimbley pushed off the wall at that, humming as he straightened, watching her with a grin playing about his lips. "Hmm?"

She fell silent.

Now what?

"...Is there...ah...something else you'd like to do?"

The grin appeared fully, and he tilted his head, palms slipping into his pocket. "What would you say is good to do in the Underground?" he replied. Once more their dance began, it seemed.

"..." Her expression was blank.

"Not a very conducive town to that sort of thing, I suppose," he remarked, half to himself as he glanced out to the street, then looked speculatively at the alleyway.

"That's...one way to put it."

Sighing, he pulled out his watch, examining it for a moment. "I'm afraid I must be on my way, in any case," he drawled, glance flickering to her. "A pity," he said, tone shifting slightly as he moved forwards, closer.

She almost immediately took a half-step back, purely on instinct. "I see."

That little move set off that strangely focused look in his eyes again, though his smile remained polite. Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his lips, kissed the back of it lightly, holding her stare. Now, what reaction this would provoke? "This has been most pleasant."

She resisted the urge to jerk her hand back when his fingers brushed against hers, her posture rigid as he brought the back of her hand to his lips. Well...that was something new. The moment his fingers lessened around hers, though, her hand shot back down to her side, and the cold air burned against her now-warm cheeks.

"Ah. Yes."