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bevioletskies · 3 years

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the first time (ever i saw your face)

summary: On their six-month anniversary, Apollo and Klavier decide to pose a seemingly harmless question: what did they think of each other when they first met? As it turns out, the topic is a little more complicated than they originally thought.

word count: 4.9k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day one of seven (prompt: "firsts"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings. Mild spoiler warning for the end of Apollo Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol. Fic title is from the song The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack.

“...why does this look like something out of a direct-to-streaming movie adaptation of a YA novel that has a three-star average rating on Goodreads?”

“If you’re trying to say you don’t like it, baby, you could just say so.”

“No, no, I - I’m actually kinda into it. It’s like we’ve walked onto the set of a staged proposal, though if you ask me to marry you right now, I will start laughing.”

Klavier sighed. “I’m starting to think the phrase ‘romance is dead’ was invented specifically for you.” Nevertheless, he tugged gently on Apollo’s hand. “Come on, liebe, I got our favorite snacks, I queued our favorite movies...and before you ask, nein, there is no engagement ring, so stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not...totally opposed to getting married, you know,” Apollo added as he followed Klavier. “It’s just...it’s a little early for me. This is only our six-month anniversary, after all.”

“Fair enough,” Klavier hummed, the two of them settling down in their spots. He’d learned long ago that Apollo wasn’t one for flashy, photo op-worthy dates, that he preferred more intimate, low-key settings. And so, for their six-month anniversary, Klavier had taken them to his family estate. He had cleared out the conservatory overlooking the garden of all its furniture, filling it with blankets and pillows, drapes and string lights, and a projector whose screen covered the entire back wall. It reminded Apollo of what he himself had done for their three-month anniversary - because apparently, he was that kind of person now - when he’d planned a weekend’s stay in a cozy lakeside cabin. “A conversation for another time, ja?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Apollo draped one of the blankets over his and Klavier’s laps, then lowered his head to rest on Klavier’s shoulder. Smiling, Klavier turned to briefly kiss Apollo’s temples, then reached for his laptop so he could start the movie. They spent the first fifteen or so minutes in companionable silence, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bottle of wine while they watched, until Apollo eventually spoke again. “...weird, isn’t it?”

“The movie? Not particularly,” Klavier shrugged. “If anything, I’d say the plot twist is a bit predictable.”

“No, not the movie. I mean...this.” Apollo gestured aimlessly. “You and me. Us.”

Klavier’s expression darkened somewhat. “Are you...having doubts about our relationship, Apollo?”

“Wh - no, no, not at all!” Apollo protested, sitting up. “It’s just...I guess it’s mostly weird for me. Like, if someone told me, say, a couple years ago, that I was gonna be in a relationship with you, of all people...hell, can you imagine if someone told me that on the day we met? I-I wouldn’t believe it!”

“You weren’t shy about your distaste for me, true,” Klavier agreed, his slight frown relaxing into an amused smile.

“I don’t think that’s an...entirely accurate assessment of, uh, of how I felt,” Apollo said carefully.

Now it was Klavier’s turn to straighten up, looking at him curiously. “Really?” he asked. “Then what did you think of me when we first met?”

“You first,” Apollo retorted, seemingly on instinct. He then softened. “I mean, only if you want to. I’m kinda curious.”

“I don’t mind,” Klavier reassured him, setting down his wine glass so he could squeeze Apollo’s hand. He hesitated, thinking it over. “...I expected to hate you from the very beginning, to be perfectly honest. And, for a moment there...I did.”

Apollo’s eyes widened. “Wh...what?”

“‘Disgraced Defense Attorney Dismantled By His Disciple’, I believe the headline was,” Klavier continued. He then smiled wryly. “A bit dramatic, if you ask me. But then again, I’m not a big fan of alliteration, so I might just be biased.”

“Did you really hate me?” Apollo’s shout had dropped to a mere whisper. “Because...because you didn’t wanna believe it, did you? About…what had happened. What he’d done.”

“It wasn’t all bad memories, all the time, you know.” Klavier gently released Apollo’s hand so he could brush his hair out of his eyes, though he kept his head ducked low. “We had our moments, him and I. We weren’t close, but...we weren’t estranged, either. In fact, I...I first heard your name from him, not from the papers.”

“He told you about me.” It wasn’t a question. “I guess I should’ve suspected, but I never really knew what your relationship was like...before. I mean, he never once mentioned having a brother, so I kinda assumed…”

“As everyone does,” Klavier shrugged, far too casually for Apollo’s liking. “Anyway, your question was about you and me, not me and him, ja? He told me all the usual things people have to say about you - loud, eager to please, a little bit sensitive. I didn’t think much of it at the time, other than the fact you had a strange name.”

Apollo rolled his eyes, sinking back into the cushions. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Glad to know I made a great first impression.”

“And then when the headlines came along...and Mama and Papa called…” Klavier’s face darkened once more; he cleared his throat. “I looked you up. I hadn’t bothered when I first heard your name, but I had to know. Still, I...I found almost nothing. No photos, no social accounts...nichts. Just a single line on a college graduate roster and the same articles I’d been reading before.”

“...I see.” Apollo fiddled with the ends of his blanket, just so he would have something to do with his hands. “So, when we finally met in person…”

_____

The first thing Klavier noticed was Apollo’s eyes - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, though in the sunlight, more akin to the color of honey. Those eyes of Apollo’s, curious and maybe a little bit accusatory, narrowed right at him as he arrived at the entrance of People Park. He internally winced at the sight of Apollo’s companion, who was arguing with the police officer standing guard at the scene. Despite the time that had passed since he last saw her, he could never forget Trucy Enigmar-now-Wright.

Are you working for Phoenix Wright now? Klavier wanted to ask as he approached them. Why? Don’t you know what he’s done? Don’t you see what he’s become?

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” he said instead, leaning forward to smile somewhat condescendingly at them. Klavier was momentarily struck by how similar they were - how their hair was the exact same shade of brown, how the dusting of freckles across their identically shaped noses matched too perfectly, how their furrowed brows and perplexed frowns were one and the same. The only difference was their eyes, hers more the color of a stormy sea. Perhaps there’s a song lyric there? Klavier mused to himself. Ach, now is not the time.

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said disbelievingly, his eyes now widening. His arms, previously crossed tightly against his chest, fell to his sides. The motion caught Klavier’s eye, drawing his attention to the glint of the golden bracelet sitting on Apollo’s left wrist. He wondered if there was some sort of significance to it, what with the way Apollo clutched it tightly with his right hand.

“Ah, fräulein,” Klavier continued, his eyes flickering back upwards. He wondered if she knew him, if she recognized him at all. Clearly, Apollo had no idea who he was; he wasn’t sure how to feel about that just yet. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?”

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy complained, huffing. She brandished an envelope in Klavier’s face, nearly swatting him on the nose as she did. He flinched slightly, surprised by how brazen she was. “We even have a letter of request!”

Klavier’s smile softened into one that was a little more genuine. He couldn’t help but be instantly charmed by her. “You must be exhausted, standing out here. I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, brightening. Apollo looked skeptical in comparison, his intense gaze traversing the length of Klavier’s body. Usually, he would have preened at the attention, been flattered by the obvious interest and maybe made a show of looking back, but he knew that wasn’t what Apollo was looking for. I am not him, Klavier thought fiercely. I am not the one you trusted, the one who taught you everything you know. I could never -

“By your leave, officer,” Klavier said with a nod and a wink. He barely heard the officer’s affirmation over his own thoughts. Then, he turned back to Trucy and tilted his head towards the park. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Trucy’s giggle was sweet, melodic, as she happily followed him through the entrance. He made a show of lifting the police tape for her to duck under, which she seemed easily amused by. Apollo, meanwhile, was left standing on the street, staring at them incredulously, before he finally seemed to register what was happening. “Hey! What about me?!” he cried. His voice gets raspier the louder he gets, Klavier couldn’t help but observe. Interesting.

Once Apollo had caught up, Klavier turned to grin at them both, teeth clenched beneath his lips. Trucy was rocking back and forth on her heels, beaming back, while Apollo had braced his hands on his hips indignantly, like he had something he wanted to say and was just waiting for the opportune moment to say it. Ach, those eyes, those hands, those freckles, Klavier thought rather stupidly. Wait - you’re not supposed to think he’s cute, Klavier, hör auf!

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” he remarked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the flash of a white lab coat further into the park that told him he needed to leave if he didn’t want to be reprimanded - or worse, Snackoo-ed.

“Thank you! Will we see you again?” Trucy asked, hopeful.

Klavier hesitated. Apollo still hadn’t said a thing about the obvious elephant in the room, still staring at Klavier like he was a ghost. He wanted Apollo to say something, anything, to ask questions, to start the conversation that he himself admittedly didn’t want to take responsibility for. But Apollo was clearly stunned into silence, and any courage Klavier had had when he first walked up to them moments ago was long gone.

“Ask the wind, fräulein. I'll be riding on it,” he said, shooting them one last saccharine smile. He could hear the click-click of Ema’s shoes against the cobblestone as she approached. With that, he turned and left, his chest aching in confusion.

_____

The silence was heavy, heavier than Apollo expected. Klavier had turned the movie volume down long ago, leaving them with nothing but the sound of their own quiet breaths. “Makes sense,” Apollo finally said, shooting Klavier a sympathetic smile. “To you, I...I jumped ship from one corrupt defense attorney to another. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the time, right?”

“Part of me wanted to confront you right then and there, but I didn’t want to do it. Not in front of everyone, especially not in front of her. But the other part of me...I just wanted to learn more about you. To get to know you before I decided whether it was a battle worth fighting. Whether he was worth defending.” Klavier then smiled back; now it was his turn to drop his head onto Apollo’s shoulder. “Besides, you were cute, and I’m weak.”

“‘Were’, huh?” Apollo teased, nudging him. “Well, I’m glad Trucy’s presence, your curiosity, and my cuteness apparently deterred you enough to walk away. To think, what would you have done if you didn’t think I was cute - ”

“Achtung, you’re such an arschgeige sometimes,” Klavier groaned, laughing. “Anyway...I got my answer in court soon enough. I could trust you, and he...he wasn’t worth defending. Not one bit.”

“No, not at all,” Apollo agreed. “Still, I’m...I’m sorry, Klav. Not for what I did, I mean, I-I had to, but just...how it all played out. How messy things got. Whenever we, y’know, come here to see your parents, I still see that look in their eyes. It’s that face that you make when you think no one’s looking.” He swallowed. “Mr. Wright says Trucy does that, too. Less now that she’s got me and Mom, but…well.”

“It wasn’t you, Apollo, it was me. It all started with me believing he wouldn’t lie to me.” Klavier’s laughter was bitter now. “Anyway, I’m starting to think we’re all a little too observant for our own good. None of us can ever let things go, nein?”

“We’d be horrible lawyers if we could,” Apollo chuckled, rubbing Klavier’s arm reassuringly. “But fine, fine, I’ll stop psychoanalyzing you now. It’s my turn, anyway.”

“I want to hear this,” Klavier said, snuggling closer. “Lay it on me, baby. Tell me how you fell for me in two seconds flat.”

“I’m gonna lay into you in two seconds flat if you don’t let me talk,” Apollo said dryly, elbowing him again. “I, uh, I don’t think I remember it as clearly as you do, but…”

_____

“Excuse me, coming through.”

It was a voice, a smooth, musical voice, polite but firm, that caught Apollo’s attention first. He turned in its direction, confused by how familiar it felt, how similar it sounded to another voice he knew, but with a light, lilting cadence and a strangely affected accent whose origins he couldn’t quite place.

“Ah! It’s you! Mr. Gavin!”

Apollo’s eyes widened, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, then narrowed at the sight before him. Striding towards them with a swagger in his step was a man who, as far as Apollo could tell, was supposed to be behind bars. Only, his skin was a few shades darker, his hair a shade or two lighter, and he was wearing, for reasons Apollo couldn’t fathom, eyeliner and leather and chains instead of a neatly-pressed suit and wire-rimmed glasses. Who’s THIS guy? Apollo thought, his stomach turning.

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” the man said, leaning in close; his smile was a little wider than Apollo would have liked. Apollo also didn’t want to think about how pretty he was, how long his eyelashes were or how smooth his skin seemed to be. This can’t be him, Apollo decided, though he was still frozen in place. He could only vaguely feel Trucy’s fingers tugging gently on his shirt sleeve. No, it can’t be - it’s not - but who -

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said stupidly. He felt a phantom pinch on his left wrist; he released his arms from where they were crossed so he could rub the spot where it hurt, though the moment he touched it, he realized he hadn’t been in pain at all. The man’s eyes flickered down, following his fingers in curiosity, before moving back up to continue smiling beatifically at Trucy.

“Ah, fräulein,” he said; he was practically simpering now. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?” Apollo barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Of course, he internally sighed, he’s one of those guys.

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy whined, shoving the envelope in the man’s face. Apollo had to bite back a laugh at his startled expression, a contrast to his otherwise indifferent smile. “We even have a letter of request!”

“You must be exhausted, standing out here,” the man murmured sympathetically, eyes sparkling. He seemed intrigued, though Apollo couldn't blame him. He supposed he and Trucy looked like a completely mismatched pair. “I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. Apollo tried not to smile himself; her energy was infectious. Then, the man’s words finally clicked in his mind. Wait - really?! But why would he - how can he - who is he?

“By your leave, officer,” the man ordered, winking. A pleasant shiver went down Apollo’s spine, one that he was trying his best to ignore. No good was going to come out of that train of thought, not when this man was clearly someone he needed to worry about - though in what way, he wasn’t sure yet. He seemed too generous, too open. Whether he was a police officer, a detective, or, god forbid, a prosecutor, Apollo didn’t trust him not to lead them astray, not one bit. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Before Apollo knew it, the man was walking away with Trucy in tow, leaving him behind. “Hey! What about me?!” he shouted, jogging after them. By the time he caught up, both of them were grinning at him amusedly, as if watching him trip over his own feet was some hysterical inside joke. Huffing, he braced his hands on his hips, ready to open his mouth and protest. The man’s gaze briefly travelled down to his hands once more. What’s that all about? Apollo wondered, confused. What’s he looking at? Is it my bracelet? It’s not that weird, is it? Wait, or can he tell that it’s -

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” the man said, speaking a little quicker than he did before. He suddenly seemed distracted, like he couldn’t wait to get away from them.

“Thank you!” Trucy chirped, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Will we see you again?”

“Ask the wind, fräulein,” the man said, recovering. He seemed almost too focused on Trucy, like something about Apollo bothered him. Maybe he already knew who Apollo was, what Apollo had done. Was he angry? Resentful? Waiting for the right moment to strike? A shiver of a different kind tingled throughout Apollo’s body at the very thought; the phrase “kill them with kindness” was coming to mind. “I'll be riding on it.” He then left without another word, leaving Apollo to stare stupidly after him, his heartbeat in his throat.

“...who was that?” Apollo exclaimed, stunned, as if he wasn’t confused enough by everything else that was going on. His mind was racing with possibility, with anxiety that he really, really didn’t need. Before he could get into it, however, his jumbled thoughts were quickly cut off by Trucy’s surprised cry.

“Eek! Apollo, look - a c-corpse!”

_____

“...interesting,” Klavier said after a moment’s silence. “Did she really think the mannequin was a dead body?”

“Seriously, Klav?” Apollo groaned. “Surprised you didn’t fixate on the part where I thought you were pretty.”

“‘Were’?” Klavier echoed mockingly, grinning. His expression then sobered. “So...mixed feelings all around, it seems. I suppose it shouldn’t be all that shocking, though. We weren’t...total strangers, after all.”

“You practically were to me,” Apollo murmured, tangling his fingers in Klavier’s hair. Klavier leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment. “At least you knew I existed, while I...he never…” He then shook his head. “Y’know, I-I’m not sure if I really wanna think about this anymore. Not if it makes us think about him.”

“It’s not one of our happiest memories, nein,” Klavier agreed, humming. “I like where we are now...where we can trust each other. There’s little I hate more than ambiguity. And not knowing how I was supposed to feel about you…”

“Sucks, right?” Apollo let out a hollow laugh. “But at least we were on the same page, in a, uh, weird way. I guess that’s always been our thing. Even when you’re driving me up the wall in court - which is all the time, so don’t even question me, I see that look on your face - we’re, y’know, generally working towards the same goal.”

Klavier’s fingers danced along the length of Apollo’s forearm, tapping out a rhythm that Apollo couldn’t quite pick out. “I’d like to think so. I was never really sure until...ach, well. You remember.”

_____

Apollo was still trembling as he exited the courtroom with Trucy by his side. She was putting on a brave face for them both, but he had a feeling that she was more torn up about what had happened than he was. He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her somehow after they’d learned the truth behind her biological father’s death, but for once, he was completely speechless.

“Polly?” Trucy’s voice was tentative. “I’m...kinda hungry.”

“I...oh.” Apollo looked at her curiously. Out of all the things he’d expected her to say, that hadn’t been one of them. “Do you wanna get something to eat? We could go to Eldoon’s if you want.”

“No, that’s okay,” Trucy reassured him. Her face then lit up. “I was actually thinking about the courthouse café! We can get cake and drinks and stuff. A little sugar goes a long way!”

Apollo smiled softly. “Sure, Trucy. Whatever you’d like.”

And so, they found themselves a small table at the courthouse café - and maybe calling it that was rather generous on Trucy’s part - with two thick slices of Swiss rolls and tall glasses of milk tea. Admittedly, Apollo still felt numb, but Trucy’s running commentary of her thoughts on the trial kept him going. “Now all we need is for Vera to wake up,” Trucy said, gripping her fork with determination. “I’m still so worried about her! What if she doesn’t - ”

“We can’t think like that, okay?” Apollo said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “We gotta have hope. That’s all we can do, you know?”

“I guess,” Trucy murmured, chewing her bottom lip fretfully. She went quiet for a minute or so, poking at the last bits of her drink’s half-melted ice with her straw. “Hey, um...Daddy says he’s meeting up with a friend later today, and he wants to have dinner. And when he says ‘friend’, he usually means Mr. Edgeworth. You know, the prosecutor?”

“Yeah, I’ve definitely heard of him.” Apollo sat up a little straighter at the word ‘prosecutor’. In his stupor over the whole ordeal, he’d barely spared a thought for Klavier; he could only vaguely guess how he was doing. “What about him?”

“I was just wondering if, maybe, you’d wanna...join us?” Trucy suggested. He’d never seen her so hesitant before. “For dinner, I mean.”

“...oh.” Apollo paused. “No, uh - not today, sorry. I should really go home and sleep all of this - ” he gestured aimlessly “ - off. I feel like I need to sleep for, like, three days straight.”

“Sure, of course,” Trucy nodded, smiling faintly. “But….you’re still coming back to the agency, right? Maybe not tomorrow, but like...in a few days?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely,” Apollo promised, surprised by how quickly he’d responded. In all his hesitation, his doubts about law and what it was meant to be, what it could be, he was finally starting to feel like the Wright Anything Agency was where he belonged.

After they finished eating, he and Trucy parted ways after a long, much-needed hug on the courthouse steps. Apollo then went to fetch his bike from the rack adjacent to the courthouse parking lot, only to spot a familiar face lingering nearby, seemingly in no rush to leave.

“...Gavin?” Apollo said carefully.

Klavier turned sharply at the sound of Apollo’s voice. His smile was a touch too wide, his eyes suspiciously glossy. “Ah, Herr Forehead,” he greeted, ducking his head; his voice sounded trapped in his own throat. “Good show in there, as always. You never fail to impress.”

“Thanks. Hey, um - I’m surprised to see you’re still here,” Apollo commented, taking a few tentative steps closer. “Don’t you have somewhere...better to be?”

“Not really, nein.” Klavier let out a short, forced laugh. “I have paperwork to do, I’m sure. But it can wait.”

“...right.” Apollo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, by the way.”

Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung? What for?”

“For agreeing to summon your brother, and...y’know, everything after that.” Apollo found himself oddly fascinated with a few stray pebbles on the ground, nudging them around with the toes of his loafers so he wouldn’t have to look at Klavier’s face. “Look, I-I’m not gonna pretend like I know what you, or Trucy, or Mr. Wright are going through. I’m mostly on the outside looking in, so. All I really know, if I know anything at all, is that, uh...we did the right thing. Yeah?”

“Ja.” When Apollo looked up, Klavier was also deliberately looking elsewhere, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. He’d displayed a whirlwind of emotions back in the courtroom, but none of them were quite the same as the bitter expression he was wearing right now. “...Apollo?”

Now it was Apollo’s turn to do double-take. “Huh? Wh-what is it?”

“Danke schön. For...everything. I honestly don’t think I could’ve done...any of that on my own,” Klavier confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “And I think I...I think I’m going to take a little time away from the prosecutor’s office. Not for long, mind you. Just...I need some time off. A week, maybe two. Some distance, some perspective...it would make a world of difference, achtung.” He then turned to face Apollo directly for the first time since they started talking. He looked tired, defeated, even. His posture, his expression - Apollo felt as if he was seeing an entirely different person standing before him.

Without thinking, Apollo took the last few steps forward and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Klavier and pulling him close. Klavier let out a startled noise; then, he hugged Apollo back, sinking his weight against Apollo’s, his forehead dropping to Apollo’s shoulder. His exhale was long, unsteady. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Apollo said, fingers digging into Klavier’s back, his face buried against Klavier’s bicep. “And if you ever wanna talk about it...I-I mean, I’m sure I’m not your first choice, but still. I’m, uh, I’m around.”

“Danke,” Klavier murmured, barely above a whisper. They stayed like that for a moment, maybe a moment too long, just holding each other in the middle of the courthouse parking lot for anyone and everyone to see. Klavier’s breath trembled against Apollo’s ear; Apollo half-expected his knees to give out from underneath him. Then, he slowly detached himself from Apollo’s grasp, carefully schooling his expression into something more Klavier-like, something brighter and blander, his teeth blindingly white in the mid-afternoon sun. “Anyway, I should really get going. That paperwork isn’t going to take care of itself, ja?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, don’t I know it,” Apollo said, letting out another strained chuckle.

“Until next time, then,” Klavier said smoothly, winking. “Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Forehead.” He didn’t wait for Apollo’s send-off, instead turning and heading over to his motorcycle, humming and twirling his keychain expertly between his practiced fingers. Apollo watched him peel out of the parking lot, silently wondering if he’d said all he wanted - no, needed - to say.

_____

“Of course I remember.” Apollo held Klavier just a little bit tighter. “But, y’know, again - not our best moment. Not by a long shot.”

Klavier lifted his head from Apollo’s shoulder so he could kiss him briefly, gently. Apollo smiled against Klavier’s lips, cupping his jaw so he could bring him closer. “But I’d still say our first kiss is more of a memory worth reminiscing over. Wouldn’t you agree, liebe?”

“It was a little dramatic for my taste,” Apollo teased, pulling back so he could affectionately nudge his nose against Klavier’s cheek, his fingers lightly pressed into Klavier’s sides. “But you’re into that sort of thing, so I’ll give it a pass. Still, let’s just agree not to cry all over each other ever again, okay? It was honestly kinda gross. And wet. And not in a fun way.”

“You’re saying you won’t cry when I propose?” Klavier asked, pouting exaggeratedly. “Because ach, I know I will.”

“Who says you’re proposing?” Apollo retorted, grinning as he prodded Klavier in the chest. “What if I get there first? What if, while you’re getting down on one knee, I just whip a ring box out of my pocket - ”

“Then I really will lose my scheisse,” Klavier murmured, his lips ghosting across Apollo’s skin. “I’m going to hold you to it, baby.”

“Can’t guarantee it’ll happen, but I’m definitely gonna try,” Apollo said, turning his head to capture Klavier’s lips once more. The two of them exchanged slow, lazy kisses for a few minutes, fingers loosely tangled in each other’s hair. In the background, the movie continued on, long forgotten; not that it mattered, seeing as they’d watched it together many times before.

Eventually, Klavier carefully detangled himself from Apollo. He passed him his wine glass, still half-full, then reached for his own and lifted it above his head. “To making new memories, ja?”

“Are we really cheers-ing ourselves? That’s pretty self-serving, literally,” Apollo said dubiously, though he still raised his glass all the same, amused by Klavier’s dramatics. “But hell, why not? To new memories that don’t involve us crying, sneezing, yelling - ”

“You make us sound like absolute disasters, achtung,” Klavier protested, chuckling. “We’re not that bad, are we?”

Apollo took a sip of his drink, then leaned in close, so close that his nose brushed against Klavier’s, his wine-stained, kiss-bitten lips stretched into a fond grin. “Nah. I think we’re doing just fine.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my first entry for Klapollo Week 2021! I've never participated in any fandom challenges/events before, so I'm super excited to see how this goes. My plan is a little overambitious, with all seven fics set in the same continuity, but in a different order. For example, this fic is actually the last, chronologically speaking, while day seven's fic is set in the middle. If you're wondering why they were crying during their first kiss, you'll have to wait until then 😉

Don't worry about any of that, though, you don't need to read the others to follow along! Day seven is technically a sequel to day five, but it can be read as a stand-alone, though I think it packs more punch if you read it after day five. They're also the longest; every other fic averages out to about four to five thousand words, whereas five and seven are over ten thousand words each. Brevity is the soul of wit? Not in my Google Docs, I am wordy as hell.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

#KlapolloWeek2021 #klapollo #kyodoroki #klapollo fic #ace attorney #ace attorney fic #myfic #long post #i've made that dumb goodreads joke before lmao #anyway happy klapollo week y'all!!

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destinywillowleaf · 4 years

Text

Apollo Justice, prosecutor of Khura'in in @greentrickster's AU is done! Split the sheet because I couldn't get it all visible in one shot.

This was probably the hardest of he sheets to fill out completely. If it wasn't obvious, I took the more Khurainese/concept-based designs from Nahyuta's pages and used them here, with the character actually living in Khura'in.

One of he hardest parts - as you could probably tell between the back and forth of it - was figuring out what to do with Apollo's hair. Would it look better in the front, like his father, or would it look better spread out? I'm still not sure which I like better. There's also one with somewhat of a rat tail ponytail but that was just for dramatics. The surprised Apollo at the top is a similar joke, because seriously what if his surprise animation were the spikes standing up like they usually do.

This got longer than expected so details under the break, as well as some AA6 spoilers if anyone still cares about those.

The first sketch was the upper left one, pulled from one of the final drawings in Nahyuta's concept art. A lot of these are just concept art on Apollo really but with a twist: the bell sleeves to cover his bracelet. When he bends his elbows too much and poses like the one to the left of the start, though, his bracelet can be seen.

Brought back the outfit from 3rd sketch page, no. 4, again with the extended sleeves. Final of that probably would have some sort of cuff on the end for extra style points.

Bby Apollo is actually like 10-11 there and look I just really like the outfit I will find a use for it and no one can stop me.

Last one in the first image is just trying posing, obviously distressed over something... But what is it?

Second image!

Starting at the top, Rebel Apollo. I have a feeling that he worked with the Defiant Dragons for a while in the field, acting as a lookout with his insane eyesight and loud voice. He's got a bandana a la Bowser Jr., with the mouth of a dragon painted onto it(though in the sketch I was pulling more inspiration from the Chinese Guardian Lions and the komainu). People knew of the "Dragon's Dog" but not of who they were. This does sometimes get used in the Plumbed Punisher when Dhurke is saved by a mysterious shadow.

Going across now to the short cloak, pulled from one of Nahyuta's earlier concepts. The Khurainese Prosecutor's badge is on either side(left and right), and he's wearing an outfit like Dhurke's underneath.

The small doodle to the right of it was my attempt at making a bit more of an action-y pose because he's a monk and more willing to fight than expected. Also, the ponytail. That's here.

Serious mode, with another concept sketch. This one was pulled from the teal outfit with the red shoulder scarf thing but obviously here t would be a different color. I have no idea how the buttons work either, I was just trying to replicate what was in the picture.

... and immediately next to it he reason I made my earlier post about overthrowing he government and getting a lousy t-shirt. He's very displeased. Nahyuta has a matching one. It was worth every penny. Give me the little things.

Apollo and Ema are most definitely salt friends. He's the Prosecutor's Office for less than a day, set up right next to Klavier, and he has to listen to guitr all day. Klavier isn't a rock star anymore why is he still doing this. He brings it up with Ema once and she is more than willing to talk and gripe about him. Often over Snackoos.

And finally, the one that's a combination of a number of different designs. The cloth from the late stage concept just as a belt, the canon Nahyuta shirt thing but way shorter(so like the one with the scarf), and something like Dhurke's jacket over it.

No, I still don't know how to draw shoes. For either of them. But I do know one thing: this Nahyuta is really, really fun to write. He's got the same tiredness of Apollo but with more internal anxiety over his appearance. I've got a few little ideas that I want to write up when I get time(something I don't really have right now, to be honest /_\")

Honestly one of the best things about this AU is exploring how events could have gone down. Nahyuta's lack of Gramarye sight means he can't detect lies and he has to take more roundabout methods to finding the truth when Trucy can't help. Apollo being in Khura'in means he's closer with his father but still knows nothing about who he is or who his parents were. Even though he didn't know Lamiroir was his mother, Phoenix could still figure out the identity of Thalassa's firstborn. Reasoning changes for why characters do certain things, and the final showdown of AA6 is even more emotionally taxing for the main character.

I really hope there aren't any typos in here...

#auta sahdmadhi #apollo justice #ema skye #greentrickster #i'm tagging you in this too this was your plan and i still love itttt #if some of the ideas I brought up don't fit with the rest of the AU it's not that hard to just et rid of them #aa6 spoilers #willowarts

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 4 years

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Witches, Chapter 19: yeah there’s actually still one last little bit of investigation left in this case. I’m sorry too. Now who wants backstory for side characters in a DLC case!

[Seelie of Kurain Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

[Witches Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

----

For all her bluff and bluster about getting back to investigating in the face of Blackquill’s disdain, Athena doesn’t seem to have a clue what they should do next. She tromps in stocking feet back into the aquarium, Phoenix and Pearl trailing behind her, and stares at a poster on the wall with life cycle facts about penguins for five minutes before she suggests that they go visit Sasha, because if Blackquill was here, then he had to be done interrogating her, right?

Pearl remains behind at the aquarium to get settled in, and Athena complains the whole drive to the detention center because Phoenix made her put her wet shoes back on instead of driving barefoot. “I’m wearing tights!” she insists. “It’s not barefoot!”

“Shoes, kiddo.”

“They’re wet! It’s gross!”

“Should’ve thought of that before you threw a bucket of water at a witch.” Or whatever he is. Fae-adjacent, the same vague broad classification to encompass Phoenix and Trucy and Klavier and Thalassa. Apollo’s not quite there yet.

“Wicked witch of the bench afraid he’d melt if it hit him, you think?” She steps out onto the parking lot asphalt and winces at the tiny rocks digging into her feet. “Okay,” she sighs. “Shoes.”

As they wait at the detention center for Sasha to be brought out, Athena turns, very seriously, to Phoenix. “Alright, Boss, we’ve gotta cheer Sasha up! If you’re feeling bad about the investigation, don’t you dare show it!”

The door on the other side of the glass opens and an officer escorts Sasha in. She wears a grin on her face but has a wild look in her eyes. “Ahoy, me buckos! Worry ye not about me! My spirits be good and ol’ Prosecutor Nostache won’t keep me down!”

“Uh.” Athena blinks and turns to Phoenix. He shrugs.

Sasha’s entire posture collapses. “Well that was an anchor,” she says. “Straight to the bottom. I wanted to make you feel better for all the trouble I’m causing…”

“We were hoping to cheer you up,” Athena says.

“Maybe you both can just act natural,” Phoenix says. Not that telling anyone to “act natural” ever leads to any normal or natural behaviors. Certainly not if he ever told Maya that, though after the first time he learned to add the qualifier “act what might be natural for a human”.

“Anyway.” Athena inhales deeply and the large, forced smile that she had put on calms down into something still friendly, still smiling, but closer to neutral, and much more natural. “What we’re here for, Sasha, is to tell you that we’d like to represent you in court tomorrow!”

“What!” Sasha shoves herself backward from the sill, her chair screeching horribly across the floor until it gets stuck, and she still pushing tips herself and the chair over backwards, thudding out of sight to the ground.

“Sasha?” Phoenix asks. “Is - is something wrong?”

She doesn’t stand back up. Athena pushes herself up on the sill and presses her forehead against the glass, trying to peer down to see if she’s okay. “Pros - Prosecutor Blackquil s-said--” Sasha’s shaking, shuddering breathing interrupts her words. “Said that you w-wouldn’t show up. You’d abandon me.” She’s definitely crying now, loudly and messily. “And you’re here! You - you’re - you’re h-here. To rescue me.” She rights the chair, rubbing tears off of her cheeks and out of her bloodshot eyes.

“No, Sasha!” Athena still has her face up close to the glass and she presses her palms up against it, too. “We would never! Even Prosecutor Blackquill should know that! I would never! Don’t cry!” The next loud sniffling comes from Athena.

Oh boy.

“These are happy tears.” And Sasha is smiling, beaming really, even blinking furiously to stop further tears from falling. “I’m so so glad I met you both! For Orla and me a-and—” Another shaky breath stops her for a moment. “Okay. I’m okay. I’m okay! You’ve probably got questions, right? Fire away!”

What she tells them of cleaning the orca pool that early morning is a review of what they’ve already heard, up to the point that she readily tells them she was arguing with the captain. She talks more about Orla’s tricks, says that the calendar with the seven am meeting with the captain is definitely not hers, and when they tell her that they dropped off her medications - it was Fulbright who tasked them with this, but it still had to be cleared with the prison so that they know no one is trying to smuggle in something illegal like white powder (Apollo is way too straight-laced for an Anything Agency and it’s hilarious every time he smacks inconsequentially up against that wall) - she starts getting weird. Like she’s trying to distract them from the fact that she’s on medication at all, which isn’t really working. “Are you sick?” Athena asks. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s all just peachy!” Sasha says with false, feigned cheer; the fact that she couldn’t drum up a fish pun to use really seals it. (Wait, isn’t a drum a kind of fish? Why’s he know more about fish than flowers? And seals - god damn it.)

Athena stares doubtfully at her. Her shoulders slump. “I guess I could just tell you, huh,” Sasha says. “It’s for a heart condition but—”

“A heart condition?” Athena cries, her voice high and shrill.

“—but it’s not that serious—”

“Not that serious!” Athena’s second echo isn’t quite as much of a piercing shriek, but it’s even louder, an angry yell. “It’s your heart! Don’t tell me not to worry!”

Sasha heaves a sigh. “This is why I don’t tell people,” she says. “Because you freak, and then I’m trying to reassure you that you don’t need to treat me like I’m fragile, and I’ve got to explain that I’m not dying, so on, so on.”

“Oh,” Athena says. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Sasha shrugs. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that. It’s not you. It just gets a little tiring going through the same song-and-dance every time I tell someone. Much less fun than putting on the same song and dance with Orla every show!” Athena laughs and Sasha sticks her tongue out at her. “And I’d just had that argument with the captain the other night, too. The one that came up in the trial this morning. He knew about my condition, and I’d told him that I’d scheduled the surgery that would fix it, and he was worried and he told me that’d been thinking, and he was taking me out of the show. You saw the new flier, right? That I’m not in it?”

Phoenix nods.

“And it was supposed to debut yesterday. But I needed to go out there and perform yesterday. It was the anniversary of Azura’s death, and I had this crazy idea that I would go in front of the audience and tell them all that her death was just an accident, that Orla didn’t kill her, and now the captain wasn’t going to let me out there. So what I did” - her smile is somewhere between devious and sad - “was move the skull rock from the show stage. Put it back in the orca pool, figured the captain probably wouldn’t look there, and if he couldn’t find the major prop for the new show, we’d have to do the old one again, right? Marlon gave me a hand with it, while he was watching Orla at the stage pool.”

It was a bold plan, is about all Phoenix can say to that. “Azura is the orca trainer before you?” he asks.

“Yeah. Azura Summers. She taught me everything I know - she was a year older than me and we were like - anemone and clownfish. Remora and shark!” Phoenix doesn’t speak marine biology but Athena is nodding in solemn understanding. “She was a year older than me. She was the best - you ever meet someone and just, hit it off immediately, you just know that they’re someone who’s gonna be so important in your life?” Sasha stares down at her hands, fiddling with something. “And then she was gone.”

“That must’ve been awful,” Athena says. “Losing someone you loved, and then having everyone else say that your friend was the one that killed her, and no one believes you when you know otherwise.” She sniffs again. Poor girl and her sensitive hearing and hyperempathy.

Sasha nods. “Azura was like family, since my own family was never exactly supportive of my career path.” And not that Phoenix wants to downplay the severity of family disapproval, how much of a mess of hurt their influence can make, but he can’t exactly say he’s surprised to hear that a selkie’s family might think that her getting a career with an orca was bad news. “I can only imagine what they’re saying now after the captain’s death now too.”

He doesn’t want to pick at a reopening wound, but he never knows what strange little pieces of information will help, and so he asks, “Were you and Ms Summers - involved?”

“Huh?” Sasha blinks at him. A moment later the meaning clicks. “Oh! No, she was straight. She had a boyfriend that I never got to meet, but I’d help her send him videos of some of our orca-training sessions, because I mean, getting to see your cute girlfriend hanging with a cute orca, what could be better?”

“Toss a cute penguin in there too!” Athena suggests. “And then you’re golden!”

“Athena, I love the way you think!”

Phoenix clears his throat. Something more for his “legal etiquette Athena needs to learn” list: the detention center is not a place for hitting on people. Or maybe it’s more Sasha hitting on her. Or maybe they’re just like this.

Sasha’s face falls and her eyes turn downcast. “She had this matching charm with her boyfriend that I’d wanted to return to him after she died, but I didn’t know enough about him to find him, so I just hung onto it myself. Swore on it that I’d become the best orca trainer ever, for her.” She holds up the charm; it hangs from a cord with a bead strung on it, and looks like a little talisman or envelope one would find at a shrine. “Just like the captain always used her walkie-talkie after that. It had teeth marks from Orla in it, when she brought Azura back up from the water…”

Jack Shipley’s death must be like reliving a nightmare for her.

(But also, remembering the photo of the body, Phoenix did not see a walkie-talkie in the victim’s holder for it.)

“Wait, you didn’t even see her boyfriend at her funeral?” Athena asks.

Sasha shakes her head sadly. “She didn’t even have a funeral. We held our own memorial for her at the aquarium, but her family just sort of - showed up and took her away. I’d suggested that we get an autopsy or something done, to know how she actually died and that it wasn’t Orla, but we needed her family’s permission for that and they wouldn’t give it.”

Her face is turned toward them, and her eyes are, or should be, but she has the spaced-out look of someone not seeing what’s right in front of her. “They had this huge row with Dr Crab about something, too. I wonder if that’s part of what changed him. He and Azura were pretty close, and he started acting so different after she died - talking about how he was going to euthanize Orla, when before he said he’d never do such a thing. He thought she did it! He still always keeps poison on hand, ready to put her down at any moment! If she’d been found guilty today he would’ve just done it, right then!”

Phoenix has a very good idea of who they need to talk to again, next.

Back at the aquarium, they find Dr Crab in his laboratory, with Pearl, who is holding a furiously a squawking Rifle in her arms. “—correct, she does hate me. Since this little annoyance” - Dr Crab gestures at Sniper, who is for once free of the nest of his hair and waddling about the lab - “imprinted on me right out of the egg, she thinks I stole her baby. I didn’t want to steal her baby! But I guess she feels like the human parents of a changeling would.”

“That’s very sad for both of you,” Pearl says seriously. Rifle’s wings flap against her hands. “Your job involves inducing animals to vomit a lot, doesn’t it?”

The doctor snorts. “Today’s just been a hell of a day.” He squints down at the strange machine in his hand, something too boxy to be a regular tablet, with a small screen that flips back on a hinge. “Now let me see if I can find out when she ingested that foreign object.”

“Hi Mr Nick!” Pearls releases Rifle to the ground and the penguin makes an immediate beeline for Dr Crab’s shins. Absorbed in whatever he’s looking at on his machine, he doesn’t seem to notice. “Watch the penguin vomit! It’s for Sniper to eat!” She directs his attention to a pile of, yes, penguin vomit, that he doesn’t want to consider any further, but that Sniper is pecking at. “Mr Doctor told me that mama penguins partially digest and regurgitate fish for their babies to eat, because it’s easier for them to eat that mush!”

“You two seem to be getting along well,” Phoenix says. “You and Dr Crab, I mean.” They already knew that Pearl hit it off with Rifle, somehow.

“Rifle ate something she shouldn’t so I was helping him get that out of her.” Pearl gestures now at the corner of one of the lab tables, where an object, familiar though it’s partially covered in mushed-up fish, lies. Phoenix takes a few more steps forward. The mess doesn’t smell as fishy as he expected, or perhaps he’s lost all sense of smell, and yes, whatever it is that Rifle ate looks a whole hell of a lot like the little talisman Sasha had, that once belonged to Azura. And there was supposed to be a second one, that Azura’s boyfriend had, wasn’t there?

“Excuse me, Dr Crab?” Phoenix says. He grunts. “Can we take a look at that charm that Rifle swallowed?”

He grunts again. Phoenix decides that’s a “yes”. Investigations don’t get anywhere fast, otherwise. He gingerly picks up the cord on the charm and lets it dangle. Yeah, that’s definitely the same thing as—

“Hey! What are you doing with that?” Dr Crab snaps out of his reverie, with all the anger of a man who’s only just realized something is happening that he would’ve liked to have stopped sooner. “Put that down! That’s Azura’s!”

Phoenix drops it back on the table. Dr Crab, with no regard for penguin barf, snatches it away. “What the hell was it doing in Rifle’s stomach?” He drops it back into the pocket of his lab coat.

“Would this one happen to have belonged to Azura’s boyfriend?” Phoenix asks.

“I don’t make it a habit to discuss the affairs of the deceased! Especially not with you people!”

Bit of a fraught subject, there. Sasha did say that they were close. “Yesterday was the anniversary of her death, right?”

Dr Crab’s sigh sounds more like a growl. How close is Phoenix to being kicked out of the lab? “That’s right,” Crab says. “A year since the orca killed her.”

“You really think Orla did?” Athena asks. “I don’t believe it!”

“And I was there, Ms Lawyer. I saw Orla bite her. Maybe she didn’t mean to kill her, who’s to say - but what I do know is that Azura is dead.” The point he puts on his last several words closes down the topic even more firmly than his outraged yelling did. Satisfied that he’s shut Phoenix up - for the moment, because Phoenix refuses to be done until he’s run out of questions and he’s still got plenty - he returns to studying the data on his machine.

Who knows what might be important information for a trial? “So what’s that there?” Phoenix asks.

“Monitoring system. Collection of medical records for all the creatures. Between it and the cameras I can monitor them all constantly, twenty-four/seven. Company secret, that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Really?” Phoenix asks. “Aren’t medical records just like - past exams and stuff? How can you get present, constant data from that?”

“Good point,” Crab says, after a slight pause. A sneered, thin smile stretches out across his face. “I can see there’s no fooling you.”

“Are you trying to fool me?” Phoenix asks.

The two Psyche-Locks that clang into place answer that question for him.

“You tell me,” Dr Crab says.

“Clearly,” Phoenix says.

“Excuse me, Mr Doctor?” Pearl asks. She scoops Rifle up into her arms to stop the penguin from resuming an attack on Dr Crab’s shins. “Mr Nick is a very good lawyer who always finds the truth but he needs to know everything he can to do so. Even if you don’t think your monitorings have anything to do with the case, it might be the information that Mr Nick needs to bluff himself into a better position to win!”

Dr Crab stares at Phoenix, his eyebrows raised. Phoenix wishes Pearl had found any other way to phrase that. “And it would be very kind and helpful of you to do,” Pearl adds.

The lab is far from silent - the hum and murmur of computers, Rifle’s struggles to break free and attack, Sniper eating, Athena cooing at Sniper. But it still feels quiet and empty as Pearl waits for any response and reaction at all from Dr Crab. He says nothing. She narrows her eyes, glancing from Rifle to the floor, like her next step in convincing him will be to sic a penguin on him.

Instead she simply readjusts her hold on Rifle, pulling the penguin up further in her arms, and says, much more seriously, no longer with any sort of pleading edge, “You asked for my help to examine Rifle and I gave it to you, remember? It was just a few minutes ago, right before Mr Nick came back, but I didn’t just offer that on my own.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dr Crab hisses. “That’s exactly what happened, isn’t it? I asked her if you could grab her for me and - damn, now I owe you, don’t I?”

He and Athena both glance over at Phoenix’s sharp intake of breath. Pearl doesn’t do this; she cares about human standards of fairness and tends to cancel debts made out of careless words of people who don’t know better and don’t know what she is. This situation, this case, she thinks is desperate. And Dr Crab saw what she is. It’s fair.

Pearl, unblinking, hollow-eyed, nods. “And I think you should answer Mr Nick’s questions about your monitoring,” she says.

Dr Crab shakes his head. “Well,” he says. “Shit. I got careless and that’s on me - to the victor go the spoils. So if I answer whatever questions our Mr Lawyer here has about my monitoring equipment here, then we’re settled, yes? No debts after that.”

“No debts after that,” Pearl agrees.

They both wait for Phoenix to say something; it’s a bit tricky, he thinks, to follow up a top-tier negotiation such as Pearl’s. “So. Twenty-four/seven monitoring. How’s that work?”

“It’s an ecological data organization system developed in Europe. Teleobservation Realtime Pertinent Data Organizer, TORPEDO for short.”

Phoenix decides not to try and suss out how well that acronym actually fits it, and not just because the whole name has already been ejected from his brain and he couldn’t repeat it back if he tried. Tele-pertinent real-time data what?

“It records information on its subjects constantly - heartbeat, vocalization, movements, temperature, and so on - through sensors placed on or near the subject. All that gets sent to me and my equipment here. Rifle has her sensor attached to her flipper ID tag.” Pearl takes Rifle’s wing in her hand and holds it out to examine the tag in question. “For Orla and the fish, it’s attached to the side of the tank. Now here we go, what’s it say about Rifle’s feeding?” Dr Crab glares down at the terminal in his hand. “Four am on the nineteenth is when she swallowed that. What a weird time. And - shit, Orla didn’t eat at all that night until the next afternoon.” He shakes his head. “What is going on here?”

“Maybe that’s why Rifle wouldn’t eat my fish but Orla would.” Athena sounds slightly cheered at the prospect that it wasn’t her causing personal offense to Rifle - Rifle just wasn’t hungry.

Phoenix clears his throat. “Why keep it a secret?” he asks. “This monitoring system - it’s clearly helpful and it’s not like we’re competitors trying to come in and steal your secrets.”

“Let me preface this by saying” - nothing good ever starts that way - “that this system has been tested rigorously and approved as safe and legal in many countries. Just not this one.”

Ah, that would do it. “You’re breaking the law?” Athena asks, startled.

Dr Crab grimaces but it ends as something more like a grin. “That’s why I keep this terminal with me at all times. Lucky, else the police might’ve been poking their noses into it yesterday. None of the rest of the crew knows - keeps them safe from the legal repercussions, but I had Jack’s permission for this. He felt, and I agreed, that giving the best care possible to our animals was more important than legality.”

“But - but you’re breaking the law! And that’s—” Athena sputters, searching for a solid objection. “That’s breaking the law!”

Yeah, she’s a smart kid but hopefully she’s not going into a trial without a co-counsel any time soon.

“And if breaking the law betters the lives of our animals? Are we supposed to just sit and wait for the law to change, when in the meantime we can have more information and act quicker to help them - to save their lives?”

“But…” Athena glances to Phoenix for backup she won’t find. Not that he’s not a hypocrite, but he’s not going to step into this debate just to be one. It’s disconcerting, again, every time he realizes that part of Athena’s admiration of him comes only from the fact that she doesn’t know him as well as Apollo does. She’s arguing against the logic that bore him his ace in the hole. And he can’t blame her; it took him a long, bad time to get there. “You’re just - twisting it around, now.” But she looks rattled, not sure how to square this away with the foundation of her career.

“Dr Crab,” Phoenix says. “I might need to use this information in court tomorrow. But that would obviously cause serious problems for you and the aquarium.” He isn’t asking permission, but this isn’t quite an apology, either. It’s just a statement of what it is, regrettable, inevitable.

“You’ve gotta do your job, Mr Lawyer, and I do mine.” Dr Crab shrugs, more resigned than bothered. This must be a prescient concern, for however long it’s been since they installed this system at the aquarium. Maybe it’s even a relief by now, to no longer be hiding. “I stand by my convictions and don’t have regrets, and I hope you won’t, either. I can’t blame you, or her, for that.” He nods at Pearl.

“I appreciate it.” Nice to not have a witness biting his head off, even if in this case it would be - not deserved, he’d like to think, but understandable.

“Hmph. Any last questions on that or can I—”

A loud peeping begins, like the chirps Sniper made but louder and constant. Dr Crab frowns and slips a phone out of his pocket. “Hello? Crab here.”

“That’s a ringtone?” Pearl asks. “That’s adorable!”

“I don’t think Maya’s gonna let you change mine,” Phoenix says to her.

“I didn’t think that Dr Crab liked the penguins that much,” Athena whispers. “But I guess he’s just a big softie, really!”

Were he actually listening to them Phoenix has no doubt the doctor would consider those fighting words. As it is, his fighting words are for whoever is on the other end of the line. “Son of a bitch, you people again! What more do you—”

He storms from the lab and slams the door behind him. Athena looks at Phoenix. He nods. She creeps closer to the door to listen, crouched with her ear by the crack where it closes, though Phoenix isn’t sure she needs to be that close to actually hear. “He’s saying that Orla was found not guilty,” she says, “and that should be enough - stop harassing him, he knows that - if it comes to it he - Mr Wright!” She tried to spring back up but smacks her head against the bottom of the doorknob on her way up, and wincing and grumbling to herself, stands tall again. “He said - that if he has to he’d euthanize Orla!”

“No!” Pearl gasps. Rifle wriggles around in her arms and Pearl sets her on the table. “She’s not guilty! In a court of law! She can’t be punished!”

Knowing that the whole orca pool can function as a faery ring makes Phoenix even more nervous that she’s going to commit larceny as soon as anything starts seeming tense. Grand Theft Orca. This is not something he ever thought he would have to consider.

The door swings violently inward, banging hard into Athena’s shoulder. She stumbles away, cursing under her breath again. Phoenix picks out pieces of several languages. (He really should ask her how to say “fuck you” in German. It would be funny.)

“Where’s my goddamn calendar?” Dr Crab storms back in, sweeping a dozen takeout containers from the desk in front of the largest screen into the trash can strategically positioned right next to it. A few fliers for the orca show drift to the floor. “Son of a bitch, where did I leave it this time?”

“Calendar?” Athena perks up. “It wouldn’t happen to be one of those cute penguin ones, is it? Mr Rimes found one in the nap room and—”

Dr Crab snatches it away from her and scans the mess of his desktop for a pen and scribbles something on it. “Yes, that’s mine. It was a gift, all right?” He sighs. “From Azura. She designed the calendars for this year and this was the prototype.”

“Oh.” Athena’s smile vanishes. And then, seeming to take a cue from Phoenix’s line of questioning of Sasha back at the detention center, she asks, “Did you and Ms Summers happen to be, erm, romantically involved?”

“Of course not!” He bristles at the suggestion, almost weirdly defensive, so while he sees no Psyche-Locks, Phoenix still won’t take it as the end-all-be-all. Maybe he’s defensive about the calendar for what’s written on it, that meeting with the victim at seven am. Could he, at that time, have committed murder? “Were I even so inclined to partake of ‘romantic feelings’” - he doesn’t make them with his hands but Phoenix can hear the air quotes - “I certainly would not involve myself with—” He stops. He glares at Athena and Phoenix in turn. “What business of yours is it, anyway?”

“I just heard a lot of sadness in your voice when you mentioned her, and the calendar,” Athena says. “And I wondered—”

“She was a good friend and now she’s dead, of course I’m sad!” Though he’s probably not sad now, just mad at them and their prying questions. “How can you possibly think that’s related to your defense of Sasha, or do you like using the excuse of being lawyers to pry into people’s personal lives?”

Seems like it’s time to redirect; this thread when pulled on isn’t going anywhere good. “Your phone call just now - what was that about?”

“Heard all that, did you now?” Dr Crab sighs. Phoenix skips the part where he clarifies that Athena did, because she has better hearing than the human and fae also in the room. “That’s the Center for Dangerous Animal Control, insisting that if Orla ever attacks anyone again, we’d better not bother with this rigamarole and just put her down immediately.”

“But that’s not fair!” Athena has her fists raised, ready to fight the shadowy specter of this vague organization. “Did you agree to that?”

Dr Crab is quiet for a very long time. “Sometimes,” he says finally, “unfortunately, things happen. As a veterinarian, I am prepared to do whatever needs to be done.”

“Sasha says you keep poison on hand to always be prepared to put Orla down!” Athena levels the accusation with fury that Sasha would be proud of.

Dr Crab reaches into one of the pockets of his lab coat and pulls out a tiny plastic bag that contains within it a red and yellow capsule.

One that looks exactly like that they found mixed in with the contents of Orla’s stomach.

Phoenix is very, very glad they didn’t show it to him.

“That’s awful!” Athena says. “How dare you!” She’s livid enough that Phoenix isn’t sure she realizes this pill is like the other one, and while that’s something they’re going to have to work on - making sure she’s clear-minded enough to make all the connections that matter, for now she’ll have him or Apollo with her, and Phoenix is just glad she won’t blurt it out to Dr Crab. He wants to keep this one close to his chest until he sees the best opening to play it.

“Sasha thought the same thing.” Dr Crab drops the pill back in his pocket. “When security around Orla was tightened last year, she insisted that I not be given a key card to access the orca pool room. Thinking, I imagine, that the chances of Orla having a medical emergency when either she nor Jack were here to let me in were lower than the chances of me doing something to her.” He huffs derisively, Athena still seething.

“Dr Crab, I have a last question for you,” Phoenix says. “This - Center for Dangerous Animal Control.” Or however the words were ordered. “Ms DePlume told me something interesting earlier today.” That the Center had made this same demand a year ago, and for some reason relented, but the aquarium has been making large monthly payouts to someone or somewhere ever since. Phoenix repeats this fact to Dr Crab’s expressionless face, and adds, “It’s clear that there’s something going on behind the scenes here, and I suspect that it has something to do with this murder.”

“Do you.” He’s good at responding by saying nothing, but any words at all are sometimes enough to trip the trap, let Phoenix know exactly how much a witness is hiding.

Five Psyche-Locks this time, the appearance punctuated a moment later with loud footsteps and a louder yell. “Dr Herman Crab! Sorry to interrupt, but Prosecutor Blackquill wants to speak with you!”

“Son of a—” Dr Crab punctuates his speech by smacking his calendar down hard on the the table. “What the hell else could you possibly have to ask me?”

“We were hoping to have Mr Rimes testify at tomorrow’s trial, but we’ve been having some trouble getting him to cooperate. As such, Prosecutor Blackquill would like to call you instead!”

“Hmph.” Crab takes a moment in which he clearly is sizing up and assessing Fulbright, deciding whether he can get out of this and if he wants to tangle with Blackquill in that way. Surprising that he didn’t manage to coerce (or threaten) Rimes into talking and has to go for a backup. “Fine. But I’m not giving my opinion on what happened. I’ll tell you what I know, but I’m not taking sides.” He turns to Phoenix. “Until tomorrow, Mr Lawyer.”

Neither Trucy nor Apollo notices when the office door opens. Trucy has her laptop in her lap and is furiously scrolling, glancing between the screen and the notebook Apollo is still trying to write it. It’s a silent and periodic scuffle between the two of them as Trucy grabs it and yanks it toward her to check something, and Apollo pulls it back to continue writing. Phoenix shudders to think how unreadable his handwriting is from this. “Commonly for a number of heart conditions,” Trucy mutters. “Is this relevant, Apollo?”

“Of course it is!” He reaches across her keyboard and turns her screen toward himself. “Go back to the book - the picture. If she had a heart condition and a physically intensive job—” He taps his pen against the screen. “There’s no visible injury, look, wouldn’t you think a killer whale could cause some damage—”

“Oh! You think that—”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, guys,” Phoenix says. “What are we working on?”

They shriek in tandem, Apollo flinging the pen and Trucy knocking the notebook to the floor and almost dropping her laptop. Athena claps her hands over her ears, belatedly, and braces herself against the doorframe. “Yes, we’re back now,” Phoenix adds. “What’ve you got?”

“First: the capsule!” Apollo moves his hand like he means to gesture with the pen to the capsule in a bag on the coffee table, except the pen is no longer in his hand, so he’s just sort of waving, and his voice still as enthusiastically loud as ever. “It’s a sleeping drug! That’s the brand name on it, ‘3 Zs’. The Shipshape Aquarium vet recently bought a bunch of it from Hickfield Clinic - it’s meant for people, but apparently would work on other mammals.”

“A sleeping drug?” Phoenix repeats.

Apollo nods.

That had been Phoenix’s first thought, when he first saw that capsule, but Dr Crab called it poison - sure, enough of it could certainly kill, but he’s a veterinarian. He’d be legally able to get some kind of actual euthanization drug instead of trying to overdose an orca on sleeping pills - if that was actually what he intended with it, and not something else. Why pretend it’s poison?

“And the other thing - Shipshape Aquarium had the woman who died last year, Azura Summers, right?” He doesn’t wait for Phoenix to confirm he knows and barrels on, “She was getting medication prescribed by Hickfield Clinic to help her manage a heart condition.”

“I found an illegal download of that writer lady’s book!” Trucy pipes up. Bless that girl.

“A heart condition?” Phoenix can’t do much but echo right now, but his mind is racing. What was Apollo saying when they walked in? Jack Shipley removed Sasha from the show for fear that she would come to harm because of her condition - theoretically, that could’ve already happened. “Do you know what the medication she was on was called?”

“Uh…” Apollo glances down at his notebook. “I wrote it down? It’s like—”

Phoenix takes the notebook from him. The writing is exactly as messy as he imagined, jagged pen lines trailing off across half the page when Trucy grabbed it. “That’s the same medication that Sasha is taking,” he says to Athena.

“So what’s that mean?” she asks.

“I have no idea.” That’s a hell of a coincidence, but he doesn’t really see how it could be anything but an unfortunate coincidence, even as a man whose policy is to not believe in coincidences. Orla isn’t on trial now, and wasn’t on trial for Azura’s death, either, yesterday. But maybe this information could offer some reassurance, and closure, to Sasha and the rest of the aquarium crew. “But that capsule, now that’s something. Nice work, Apollo.”

Apollo gives Phoenix a wide-eyed, startled look. Has Phoenix really complimented him so rarely?

“Where’s Pearly?” Trucy asks. Her face falls. “Did she go back home already?”

“She’s staying at the aquarium to help out with Orla, with so many of the staff dragged out to testify and everything.” There she goes again, slotting herself perfectly, naturally, in somewhere, like she’s meant to be there, so that no one even questions letting a strange little faery girl in so far behind the scenes.

The only thing to put him slightly at ease is that she said she would be ready to call in, from the aquarium, through video phone during the trial tomorrow, which holds the implication that she’s not going to spirit Orla off to the Twilight Realm in the middle of the night to keep her safe.

Though she didn’t promise for sure that she wouldn’t, so he should probably call her and extract that promise from her, before he ends up defending in a case of orca larceny.

#roddy fanfics #fic: the witches of los angeles

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rockmiyabideusexmachina · 5 years

Note

What do you think about the "Robot Masters" from Rockman (Megaman) Ability and their weakness? What do you think about all the characters from Rockman Ability? Check the Protodude Rockman's corner.

Apologies again for taking so long to get to this ask, but I will try to give it a go now. I won’t flood this reply with in-game imagery, everyone can see Vhyper and team’s work here: http://www.rockman-corner.com/2019/02/pachislot-rockman-ability-enemy-weapons.html#more

1.) Lever Man - When you think of a lever in pachislot, it’s like a slot machine. It’s got a round ball on top of a long metal bar, and you pull down on it to make the slots go. Lever Man has that for a hand, but he’s also a Guts Man clone with a fire element. So…that’s different. They do the best they can to make a lever something intimidating. But he sorta punches and charges with it. That’s not really how a lever works. He should just be pounding down on Rockman’s head with his ball.

The weapon equip is a flaming ball, that can shatter shields. But I still don’t think it functions like, you know, a lever actually functions.

So Lever Man, while you are memorable for being a flaming Guts Man clone with a ball for a hand, you do not really live up to your name much. He is weak to a sword slice, because if he was a real lever, you could totally break the lever by chopping it off. Yep.

2.) Replay Man - Replay Man looks like a duck with a water globe for a stomach and a wheel valve on his head. However, he is actually modeled after the Japanese water turtle imp demons known as Kappa. Let’s hope Replay Man doesn’t act like them, because I won’t type the things they are known for doing!

He can create a shield simply by spraying water jets out of his hand. He is weak to Lever Man’s great ball of fire. Which makes sense for the ball crushing the shield, but not for fire putting out water. They didn’t think the element through, did they?

A Kappa’s weakness is politeness or losing in sumo wrestling. Rockman does neither to defeat Replay Man. That is highly disappointing. All Rockman should have to do is bow, and Replay Man should be defeated. And if his name is Replay Man, wouldn’t he just restart the battle against Rockman again, anyhow? And shouldn’t Rockman just receive a weapon that just generates extra lives, for more replays, instead? Poor name, poor design reference, poor character.

3.) Coin Woman - Finally, the good boss. Coin Woman is essentially Shadow Woman. So of course I love her. She attacks by throwing money at you. Take that!! Makin’ it rain Chuck E Cheese tokens!!

Apparently, if you have Replay Man’s shield, the coins bounce back and destroy her. It’s like Metal Blade apparently, so you know her quarters are the deadliest weapon in the game. They’ve got shuriken designs on them, and the weapon equip is like a launcher that you just rocket coins out of. They also lock-on. It is awesome. A++++

4.) Choice Man - Choice Man is our Elec boss. He has a cool top hat, because he made that fashion choice. He can move very fast because he goes at the speed of light, and create clones of himself. That should be something Coin Woman does…

So again, it’s a boss who’s name doesn’t really match up to his ability. He should essentially be a walking, talking stage select. Or at least a character with multiple personalities that struggles to make a decision in battle without some gimmick that makes him choose what to do. Instead, he’s quick magic dude, with no good magic tricks. I doubt he can even do Trucy Wright’s ‘Magic Panties’ act!

Throw coins at him and boo him off the stage, and he dies pretty quick. Guess that makes sense. If you throw coins at magicians in real life, I think they are pretty hurt physically and emotionally, too.

His weapon is basically a sparky electrode arm that fires off lightning strikes. I still don’t know what that has to do with a choice. Lightning strikes by chance…but this is not Chance Man’s weapon.

5.) Reverse Man - Reverse Man is a little bat child. He flies around and annoys you.

Interestingly enough, he flies forward, and not in reverse. Also interestingly enough, he cannot make Rockman move in reverse. So once again, what is up with these terribly-named bosses who have little to no connection to what they are named for?!

He electrocutes easily, so lightning storms bring him crashing down. His weapon is a blade, which sorta resembles the tip of his tail? Because, because…yeah, I’ve got nothing on this.

Nana nana nana nana nana nana nana nana Bat Child!!

6.) Chance Man - Chance Man is just Napalmman.EXE, but he is heavily into his Daft Punk phase. He shoots lasers out of his cannon arms. Only harder. Better. Faster. Stronger.

He is only weak to a charged shot, because in order to even face him, you need to Get Lucky. There is only a small chance you will encounter him, so…hey, finally another boss who at least has a tiny bit of connection to his name. But that’s about it. Because I don’t know what else strobe light laser cannons have to do with chance. But he gets to be the second coolest Robot Master, because he is Daft Punk Napalman.EXE.

So there you have it. My impressions of the Pachislot Robot Masters.

If you are also asking about the other characters, I still don’t mind either Rockman or Pokeball Blues’ designs. Despite being somewhat generic, they are unique enough of a mashup, but still feel like a callback to other versions of themselves.

Roll and Trancy I’m mostly indifferent on. Trancy having bumpers on her head are at least an amusing and thought-out pachislot design. Roll’s design doesn’t do much for me - the Sailor Moon skirt and tie combo doesn’t feel like the best choice for her - but at least she has a bit more to her as a character in the game, and gets a chance to fight.

Wily with bangs feels worse than Wily having a deeply-receding hairline. That gaudy scarf and suspenders…he’s a special Wily. Charles Nelson Reilly Wily.

Dr. Emilia Light, the world needs more fanart of.

#Ask #Ask Miyabi Anything #Rockman #Megaman #Rockman Ability #Pachislot Rockman Ability

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isolaween · 7 years

Text

Costumes Under the Spotlight! (Part 2)

At the stage, a lone figure clad in red stood up. It wasn’t hard noticing it after the host so kindly announced her presence like that. A bright smile stamped her face, just as flashy as her outfit. It might not show actual skin, as the original one would, but the one wearing it was proud of her confectionary abilities.

“Ummmm, what a big audience you’ve brought us tonight, Riiche~.” Maya spoke in a sultry tone. Not her usual by any means, but hey. What’s the fan of cosplaying if you don’t immerse yourself into your character either. “Pleased to meet you, humans, demons and all other species present here. I’m Gaap, one of the 72 Great Demons of Hell and your host for the costume contest tonight. Let’s see if any of those brave enough to face public scrutinization by their outfits have half of the capability a demon like me would have to pull them through, ufufufu~.” (Ummmm, I hope I don’t end up offending anyone by speaking like this…) “Now, before we start, let me explain how things will work. At the entrance, some of the Pokémon you met must have handed you a sheet containing several names and numbers, correct? Like this one.” She raises one such sheet up high and lets it be projected at the screen behind her. “If any of you missed this, just inform them and they shall complete their service adequately. Or so should they hope…” (I’m sorry, my babies!!) “This is the voting sheet. Each of you has the right to vote only once, and you must provide your name when voting to assure so. For each presented costume, you must rate them from 0 to 5, 5 being those you like the most. After you’ve rated all of them, you must submit your sheet into this box right here.” Maya shows a container decorated in a style similar to her dress. “You can submit your votes until exactly midnight. After that, we’ll take the time to count them, so that we can announce the grand winner at the end. Don’t you dare to fall asleep until then!” She knocks the floor with her heels, making quite the impact. “The winner shall be granted the biggest gift a mortal could ever wish for: a witch’s wish! Ufufu, I wonder what sort of twisted desires your dark hearts are hoping to be granted tonight. I hope you have the clothes to match them!!”

The crowd salutes the ‘demon’, who gives it time to do so. Once they’re done, she looks at the voting sheet once again. “But enough of this. Let’s get to the truly hot and exciting part of the formalities. DJ!” She snaps her fingers loudly. “You know the drill. Let’s show off… our daring contestants!” The spotlights began to dance, chasing among the crowd those that 'Gaap’ announced. Their visage would be displayed for everyone to see, for that’s what a costume contest is all about: image!

“Our first contestant is actually one of the many artists that will grace our night with their talent. A not very traditional vampire look, huh? Hopefully that won’t offend the sensibilities of the actual vampires in our audience, ummm~. With you, GAKUPO KAMUI (@utatteru)!!!”

(Art by Gakupo-mun)

“Next we have… aaaaaw, how sweet! Children can be very considerate and willing to impress their friends, no? And in a place like Hive City, such homages make perfect motifs for Halloween. Dressed as an alien friend, we have STEVEN UNIVERSE (@firstgemboy)!!!”

(Art by @/skidar)

“Following that, we have what seems to be a doctor. Also a remark about it being the worst father in the world, although I can’t confirm that without evidence. And antimatter arms? Sheesh, I’m a demon, not a scientist! Don’t ask me to dwell on science. Anyhow, here is PHI (@radicalroot)!!!”

(Art by Phi-mun)

“Hooo, looks like we have some sort of witch for our next candidate! Wonder if she has a Lady title like Lady Beatrice over there. Lambdadelta is her name? Hah, it’d be pretty amusing if she were in our audience. In the meantime, let’s salute SAYU YAMAMOTO (@macabreexeunt)!!!

(Art by Sayu-mun)

“Gosh, a magician’s outfit? Aaaaah, Trucy would love seeing this! …I mean, *cough* Quite impressive for a human seeking to become equal to a witch in power. Let’s see if you can enchant your way to victory, huh? Hope you all enjoy… I’m not reading this whole name out loud, so MAGILOU (@thewitchmagilou)!!!”

(Official art)

“A god eater? Heh, can’t imagine a cute one like you going out devouring almighty beings like that, but then again this city is known from breaking deceitful perceptions like that. Just be careful with that prop, alright? May you all admire the craft of EDNA (@normincarenaqueen)!!!”

(Official art)

“One more of tonight’s idols this time and what a style! Vampire Gakupo should keep an eye behind his ear, for you never know when this gruff vampire hunter will put a stake on his heart. Oh? Is it supposed to be a clean cut anime version of this? Well, you know what you want. EICHI TENSHOUIN, everybody (@10showin)!!!”

(Offical photo)

“Now we have the first half of another matching duo, once again by idols. There’re sure a lot of you in this contest, I must say. An ‘steampunk doll’ is not something you see everyday, so points for creativity there. Hope you like the hard work of MIKA KAGEHIRA (@smilingidoll)!!!”

(Official art)

“And here’s the second half! I must say, people who like one will probably like the other. Unless the butterfly wing ends up being a make it or break it deal for them, which might help with the untie process. I’m certainly curious to see the results~. Before you all, SHU ITSUKI (@raisanutau)!!!”

(Official art)

“I must say that I’m surprised that no women have brought princess costumes so far. To think that our first one of that cathegory would be from a boy. He sure brings forth all the qualities fit for one, however, so perhaps they just saw that they didn’t stand a chance! Please make space for Your Highness RIKU NANASE (@idolish7center)!!!”

(Official art)

“Next - hoh, what an interesting style. Steven Stone is a rather familiar name. It reminds me of a character from a Pokémon game i’ve played, Roland Rock. Hope you have the hardness of a rock to stand this challenge, boy! All salute KNIGHT UNRYUUJI (@cloudwhiteknight)!!!”

(Edit of official art)

“Another vampire, although I must say the dragon friend is an interesting touch. Such a shame that you didn’t come as a cowboy, vampire, though! Even more so that your friend there didn’t submit their costume themself, for we don’t accept two people for the same submission. Hope you’ll enjoy the work of TASUKU RYUUENJI (@tasukusenpai)!!!”

(Official art)

“Now this one should be familiar to everyone. An idol that has stolen everyone’s hearts throughout the past 10 years, with a mix of appeal and talent never seen before. Her choice for the contest is an outfit that I’ll admit not to know, but I’m sure some of you do. One that needs no further introduction, MIKU HATSUNE (@cv01android)!!!”

(Art by Sour暄)

“Wow, now THIS guy understands about fashion! I completely agree with you, my fellow fashionista, anything is worth having this demonic glamour. If someone is fashionable, I’d be able to go through all sorts of crazy adventures with them… but only if they’re hot!! Here is the Pumpkin Witch, KING KNIGHT (@gildedusurper) !!!”

(Art by KK-mun)

“The next contestant has a… much more natural look, I could say. And even considerate enough to add flowers for a better smell? If I didn’t know better, I’d have long thrown a pokéball at you, my darling, ahahaha! Ah, but I jest. Each individual in this city has different skill levels that should be respected. And hopefully admired! Please admire ORI (@saviourofnibel) !!!”

(Art by Ori-mun)

“Hoo, what a beautifully stylish outfit this is! A simple enough design that showcases its true splendor in the form of cobweb patterns under the spotlight. Just like a true circus artist! And complimenting web gloves, how interesting. It’s truly wonderful seeing people use their natural talents the most like this. Ladies and gentlemen, applauses for MUFFET (@actuallymuffet) !!!”

(Art by Mumpkins (Deviantart))

“My my, this one is pretty creative, I must say! Using your own body as a prop is not something most people would be comfortable with, but you seem to have pulled it off with a T! And that modern internet aesthetic will sure gain you a couple points from the meme loving citizens, ahahaha!! Anyway, here is STAR PLATINUM (@wildberryoras) !!!”

[Aside from pixelated plastic he fashioned to look like a censor bar covering his eyes, all he’s wearing is two pepsi logos covering his unmentionables both in back and front. It’s the three piece cardboard display he constructed that are the main attraction. One side sits upon the floor while the others act as walls, a window into the world he pained into it. Neon pink and black checkerboard tile stretch into the turquoise horizon. The landscape lay nearly barren except for an oasis not far away. At the edge of a pool sit palm trees, VHS tapes propped against a pedestal, on which sits a television. Vaporwave is playing on it thanks to a phone acting as the screen, tapped there from behind. Star Platinum takes position on the display and poses like classical sculpture to tie it all together.]

(Description by SP-mun)

“…….Are you kidding me? Look, there’re ways to make use of memetic aesthetics and this is not really… *sigh*. Please, you’re a skeleton. You could have probably done a better job just by submitting yourself! Ahhh, but I digress. Everybody, enjoy the trumpet tunes of W.D. GASTER (@scirephysica) !!!”

(Edit by Gaster-mun)

“Ah, finally a werewolf! I was starting to think that the vampire lore would dominate tonight’s contest without any sort of opposition. I’m glad to see I was wrong. Especially a pastel colored one, you never see those in media. Definitely an original twist to the concept! Hope you’ll all howl for SUNNY OF THE FOUR HEAVENLY KINGS (@hairbeat) !!!”

(Art by Sunny-mun)

“Ah, what a fancy design this one has. That top hat of yours is your signature, isn’t it? I must say, it gives you a very gentlemanly air. I’ve once met a man who too wore a top hat all the time, and he was the most gentlemanly person I’ve ever met in my long life. But remember - a noble design means nothing if you can’t act the part! I present to you, DIO (@dioleft) !!!”

(Image source)

“And now an alien! Ahhh, what a futuristic looking dress! And those green bobbies on your head are quite charming (although I wonder why they aren’t silver to match the rest of the attire). Also really liked the makeup trick on your eyes - gives them that creepy grey alien feel for sure~. Hope you’ll all be abduted by the charms of MARCELINE ABADEER (@buryyouinmysounds) !!!”

(Image source)

“My my, another vampire? I might have anticipated myself in supposing that the werewolves stood any chance this year. A pretty traditional design this time - the paper teeth are a cute touch, though. Maybe we could say that you’re the Iron Mask Vampire! But I digress. I’m sure you shall be a respectable guest, darling. Please be kind with DRIFTER (@hyper-light) !!!”

(Image source)

“Would you look at this one! Representation for the other ways to celebrate Fall! Yes, for Halloween is but one of the many celebrations around the world this time of the year. I wonder how a Dia de los Muertos would go in Hive City, hmmmm… In any case, let’s all enjoy some sugar skulls with SOMBRA (@transl0cating) !!!”

(Official art)

“Ohhhh, a Frankenstein’s monster! Oh, I-I mean, Junkenstein’s monster. Forgive me for the confusion, miss. I can definitely approve of seeing more muscular women getting into the fun of costume making. It’s no fun if women are reduced to just being super thin and short demure mannequins, am I wrong? Hope you won’t get zapped by ALEKSANDRA ZARYANOVA (@itsonlygame) !!!”

(Art by @/kakimari (twitter))

“Now comes a bunch of matching outfits! First, a couple of cops, ready to arrest anyone disturbing the enjoyment of our citizens here present. Although I must admit, the first one’s design doesn’t really suggest me ‘cop’ that much besides the handcuffs. You sure you didn’t mix up with your roleplay costume~? Hope you enjoy the energy of CROW (@crimsongaze) !!!”

(Official art)

“Now the other half of this cop duo! …Oh, it’s you. I must admit, Halloween is indeed the time of the year most fit for one immersed in fantasies and acting plays. Wonder if that makes you the ‘good cop’ to your partner’s ‘bad cop’. Who knows, you might actually obtain a real ‘legend’ this time! Keep your eyes open for YAIBA (@legendoftongueflame) !!!”

(Official art)

“Now, a couple of vampires! The first one isn’t the tradiotional you’d see in old books, however. He seems to have gone with the more modern depiction of them as sexy boyfriends that’s become quite popularized in YA books the past few years. Will that exposed skin of yours sparkle, I wonder~? May the audience swoon with the charm of TITAN (@unichord) !!!”

(Official art)

“Our second vampire in this duo is more akin to the old times fashion, I see. Hah, I can already envision how this story would go. An old vampire finds an attractive young man and turns him into one of his kind to appease his encroaching loneliness that immortality brings. C’mon, it’d sell like bread! In any case, hope you’re as popular as my story would be, ORION (@aurochial) !!!”

(Official art)

“Ah, another freak of science! This time, we face the terror of eeeevil cyborgs, whose only goal in mind is subjugating all organic life to their master’s whims. I must say, I’m truuuuly terrified! That aside, I must say that this costume’s handcrafting is of top quality! I surely hope that it’ll be well seen by our guests. Hope you can survive the onslaught of MILES PROWER (@milesabovemobius) !!!”

(Official art)

“Hoo, I must say that I was quite excited when I saw the name of this costume. And also a bit afraid that our hosts wouldn’t allow it as per the rules, but it seems like we can keep the PG rating. I wonder if this is what a human/dragon hybrid is supposed to look like in YA novels. Ah, I know! I’ll include you in the story I mentioned earlier! With you, TRAVIS TOUCHDOWN (@suplex51) !!!”

[The Sexy Dragon is an Ibuki Mioda original that gives off an aura of sensual power. A “tough-love look,” you could call it.

The top is a sleeveless leather jacket, covered in brilliant green scales. The collar has been torn away, forcing the wearer to show off their collarbones to the world. Jutting down the wearer’s shoulders and spine are a set of dorsal fins, small enough to not be cumbersome while still large enough to give a sort of badass kaiju vibe.

The jean pants share the green color scheme, only with an added layer of crimson red felt underneath. Multiple lacerations to the green ‘skin’ reveal that 'muscle’ layer, which comes to look like the scars of a battle-hardened warrior.]

(Description by Travis-mun)

“Now we have a classical hero to protect us all from the beasts that here stood so far! I must say, you remind me of a certain protagonist from a videogame series that I’ve been playing recently - The Myth of Zolde, ever heard of that one? I’d highly recommend it to the audience! *Coughs* B-But I digress. Beware, evildoers, for you’ll feel the power of BAYONETTA (@txmmxrxwismine) !!!”

(Official art)

“Awwww, this one is totes adorbs, uhum~! I understand that you were forced to participate, darling, but I’d say that the chance of getting a wish for yourself is definitely worth the risk of social embarrassment. Plus, you really think you’re any worse than anyone else here? Trust me, you’ll survive this sting. Wonder if you shall be clawed by the hands - or should I saw mittens - of SASUKE UCHIHA (@tiredsasukeboy) !!!”

(Art by Sasuke-mun)

“Finally, our last contestant! Going for a style derived from tabletop RPGs, how interesting! It’s certainly a shame when we can’t obtain that one needed prop we wanted to encompass our perfect vision, but don’t worry. I’m sure that your design will be appreciated by all present anyway. Very well, let’s clap the hard work of PHILLIP DOWD (@tiireur) !!!”

(Art by Phillip-mun)

“This should conclude the opening. Now, go. Enjoy this witch party to your heart’s content! We shall meet again at the end of it all…” Once Maya said that, the curtains close, indicating the end of festivities’ opening. Have a nice evening, citizens.

#cittaween2k17 #citta news #ca news #(sorry can't @ you miku-mun #in any case voting is now open!#we'll accept forms until the 9th so pls don't miss it #may you all have a great time during cittaween!)

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pikaschu · 7 years

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okay so au where instead of pretending to be fulbright, the phantom pretends to be athena

the UR-1 incident still happens the same, and then athena ends up in europe living with whoever and getting her attorney’s badge at a young age. phoenix meets the real athena cykes in europe on one of his trips with edgeworth, and invites her to come join the WAA. but the athena who gets off the plane is the phantom in disguise (the game just says the phantom can’t remember anything about who he used to be, so i can’t see why the phantom couldn’t be female instead)

instead of killing athena, the phantom just kidnaps her and holds her hostage somewhere. phantom!athena joins the ranks of the agency under the guise of helping acquit blackquill but really she just wants to get close enough to get the psych profile back (and then she can just ‘reveal’ that it was athena who killed metis like blackquill worries, and leave the real athena to take the fall and serve jail time)

the climax of the game (the reveal of the phantom’s identity) would’ve had much more of an impact on me personally if i’d spent the game getting to know this new protagonist character only to turn out that it was really the big bad the whole time. the way the ace attorney series has been written so far makes us set up to trust the members of the WAA. they get accused of murder (maya, phoenix, trucy) and the player knows that they didn’t do it, that they must be innocent. having 5-4 end with athena getting accused of murder and then having it actually turn out to be her as the culprit (or the phantom pretending to be her anyway) would’ve messed with the game formula in the same way that 2-4 messed with the player always assuming the client must be innocent and 4-1 subverted the tutorial case status quo of revealing the killer at the start and by having the first witness not be the killer

and then real athena cykes is brought in at the climax to testify and the truth comes out about the UR-1 incident and the rest of the game. after it’s all over phoenix invites her to join the WAA if she still wants to. aa6 still happens basically the same, except her seeming like a beginner again in 6-4 actually makes sense. athena can take the spotlight in aa7 and come into her own as a lawyer. we’d get a game of her dealing w what happened when she was younger w her mother, and what happened when the phantom kidnapped her. she’d gain confidence in her own abilities and become a kickass lawyer in her own right instead of the comic relief side lawyer they wrote her as in aa6

(aa5 is my least favourite game in the series, and it makes me sad that i dislike it bc it had so much potential. it could’ve been amazing? but instead we got a game of weird writing choices and too many new characters we weren’t really given a reason to care about)

i’ve only played dd all the way through once so excuse me vagueing my way through the exact story details

so 5-1 and 5-2 play out the same way. i don’t really have an explanation for why the phantom would be faking being athena in her inner monologue but w/e, we’ll just chalk it up to story and gameplay segregation or something

apollo has never met athena before so he has no reason to suspect anything is wrong w her in 5-2 when they first meet

5-3 is where the player starts to wonder if there’s something athena is hiding

juniper was her best friend, even if they haven’t seen each other in years, so maybe phantom!athena makes a comment about a childhood memory but gets a detail wrong and juniper is like ‘oh that’s not how i remember it’ but brushes it off

widget doesn’t always match what emotion athena’s feeling in dd, so what if this is b/c widget can sense something is wrong bc this isn’t the real athena

it would be interesting to replay this after the ~reveal~ and spot the points where something is obviously wrong

the phantom gets juniper declared innocent bc she’s playing the long game and what better way to convince everyone she’s really athena

apollo spends the whole game increasingly feeling like there’s something...off about athena

his abilities keep trying to tell him she’s lying but he can’t tell what about b/c i mean why would he suspect she’s a fake

it comes to a head in 5-4 after clay’s murder, so he puts the eye patch on etc

when phoenix runs into juniper at the space station, she mentions about how something seems weird about athena and her being...different from how juniper remembers her but she can’t quite put her finger on what’s wrong

phantom!athena swearing she hasn’t met clay before, b/c she’s not the real athena so she has no idea if they ever met or not

the trial still has the wham moment of realising who the phantom is (in the game it’s aura’s line about the detective telling her to lower the ladder but it would be slightly different here) except it’s an even bigger wham bc it’s this character you’ve spent the whole game getting to know

phoenix’s inner monologue guilt over not realising that the real athena was in danger or that anything was wrong

when blackquill is cleared and gets to be the case prosecutor, edgeworth leaves to go gather evidence on the phantom or w/e

fulbright is the red herring in the game, blackquill suspects him as the phantom so he’s blindsided by the athena reveal

phantom!athena is on the stand while edgeworth’s team ends up coming across the real athena where she’s being held

this leads to the classic ace attorney moment of someone (edgeworth) dramatically bursting into the courtroom

with him he has the real athena

she testifies and helps out the defense, phoenix and apollo are determined to help her and clear her name even if technically they don’t know her bc they’ve spent the last few months thinking they were getting to know athena cykes

also i have this mental image of athena’s sprite but she’s huddled in edgeworth’s big coat

it comes down to the thing w/ the moon rock earring, except the phantom thinks she’s won bc she knows her earring is a fake. the real athena has the actual earring though and she gives it to phoenix to present as evidence

the obligatory scene in the court lobby after the trial has them talking w the real athena

phoenix apologising for not realising she was in danger

athena thanking him and apollo for fighting her corner anyway

apollo is awkward w her b/c someone w her face killed clay but the real athena is innocent of any of that and also just helped save their asses in court and get justice for clay

phoenix offers her a place at the WAA if she still wants it

trucy helps persuade her to stay (‘i need a good assistant for my magic show’ and telling her they need more girls around the office)

the post credits scene is a few months later on a typical day in the WAA after athena has found her feet and she fits right in

the dlc for dd is the same except it’s set after the game and it involves phoenix as the defense and then athena is the assistant and it’s phoenix bonding w the real athena and being a total dad to her

aa6 happens pretty much the same

maybe we get a bit of insight into how athena is coping w everything that happened

when she and apollo investigate together in 6-2 it’s nice b/c they’re slowly bonding and become close friends after everything that the phantom!athena did in aa5

when they go down to the part of the theatre under the stage, maybe athena freaks out bc it reminds her of where the phantom held her and she tries to put on a brave face but apollo sees through it and helps comfort her and calm her

she then does the same for him when they go up high and he’s terrified of heights

the entire case is a nice bonding moment for them while they work together to save trucy

she really admires apollo as a lawyer and he’s really come to value her as a friend

apollo’s inner monologue when he looks over at athena is just him thinking about how strong she is and what a great lawyer she’s gonna be

her helping save the office really helps her feel like part of the family

athena regressing as a lawyer and seeming like a beginner again in 6-4 actually makes sense

it’s one of her first cases as lead

and her first case w out either phoenix or apollo

apollo tells her he believes in her as trucy drags him off to be her assistant

athena has a shaky beginning but ends up getting the correct verdict and helping her client

blackquill is pretty shitty to her in that case w how rough he is w her, but maybe in his mind he feels super guilty about not realising phantom!athena wasn’t the real athena, and while the real athena now tries to bond w him he tries to distance himself from her so she won’t be in danger again bc of him

this is something that can be brought up to deal w in aa7 aka athena cykes: ace attoney, they can find a balance where he still gets to be her protective big brother figure but she also makes it clear to him that she’s a perfectly capable adult and doesn’t need to be coddled

phoenix insisting athena isn’t allowed to be in the courtroom in khura’in in 6-5 is b/c he doesn’t want to put her in danger again

she’s kind of put out but she understands this is apollo’s fight

apollo still leaves at the end of the game, meaning athena gets to step into the spotlight

we lead into athena cykes: ace attorney

she’s getting more responsibility at the agency which is good but she still feels kind of lost bc yeah she got justice for her mother and she helped blackquill (which was her reason for becoming a lawyer) but she did it from the sidelines mostly

she gets to bond w other characters by having a different assistant each case (trucy, ema, phoenix, blackquill, etc.) (maybe even klavier who just keeps moping about missing apollo)

phoenix is busy w something else for a lot of the game (jurist system stuff?? fixing the law system again?? who knows) and so athena is the agency’s main lawyer for day to day stuff

let athena meet gumshoe please

athena and edgeworth bonding

a new female prosecutor who athena has a great dynamic with

bring back franziska too and phoenix is kind of put out that franziska immediately takes a liking to athena

we get to see athena grow through her own pov

the final case of the game is apollo coming home and literally getting accused of murder the second he gets off the plane

optional sibling reveal tie in during this case where athena has to figure out how to break it to apollo

athena doesn’t think she can handle defending her friend yet and so hands the case to phoenix at the start

she’s the co-counsel for the first trial day but then things happen and she has to take over as the main lawyer

she figures out the culprit and unmasks the big bad of the game on her own, helping apollo and getting him declared innocent

she’s in a much more confident place than she was at the start of the game

apollo tells her he wasn’t worried bc he knew he was safe in her hands

basically phoenix is still important to the new trilogy (aa5/aa6/aa7) but the overarching story isn’t his, it’s athena’s

this signifies that phoenix has moved onto a mentor role, and the baton has been passed to the second generation of the WAA

capcom please hire me i have a lot of thoughts

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wrightfamilyagency · 7 years

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Behind the Scenes: Chapter 207

(Current Queue: 8.9 / ? )

(All BtS here)

Chapter 207: First Victory

Another complete rewrite instead of anything resembling the canon scene post-trial. The only real similarities are the revelation that the bloodied card was forged and that Apollo is now out of a job.

Phoenix is all ready to round on Apollo about the card the moment they're alone, though Trucy and Luke charging in to greet him puts it off a little while. I actually had exactly how this scene would go in mind for a long time, running through it again and again as I looked forward to writing it.

Another point for the 'the card was accepted as evidence' side: In the canon version of this scene, Phoenix outright calls it "a single piece of forged evidence", which seems to imply it was accepted by the court.

And now for the "Trucy forged that card" reveal! First of all, my views on the canon: Phoenix describes the forged card as "a naughty magician's trick". In the Hydeout the night of the murder, there were four genuine aces and a fifth trick ace; One of these five aces was spotted with blood and removed, leaving only four... which raises the question of where Phoenix is supposed to have gotten a sixth ace to forge its replacement. He also, as I believe I mentioned before, never specifically tells Apollo to present anything at the point the ace is supposed to be presented, just keeps repeating his hint about 'the fifth ace', and is extremely quick to take credit for it once it comes out. He says he gave it to Trucy, but if he'd had a blood-covered card on his person at the time of his arrest, it would have been removed immediately, and he should never have had the chance to give it to anyone... and he certainly had no opportunity to put it together once he was in the detention centre. All of this, to me, stands as evidence that Phoenix didn't forge that card as he claims to Apollo. The only other possibility, whether it was on Phoenix's orders or not, is Trucy, and, after three games of seeing things from his perspective, we know Phoenix isn't the kind of person who would have asked someone, let alone his own daughter, to falsify evidence, not even after seven years playing on the shadier side of the law. Thus, Trucy forged it on her own, using her magician's skills to match a card from the Hydeout of the right colour and either use her own blood or stage blood to spot it, likely after Phoenix told her the entire story during a visit to the detention centre (alternatively, she saw how the trial was going and forged it then). Even if she doesn't know her birth father has just been killed, she knows her adoptive father, the only person left in her life, is being accused of murder and would be most likely to do whatever she can to stop it, no matter how legal it is.

So, with Trucy as the real forger of the card, that obviously affected how I was going to be handling the AU. First was arranging things to still be scary enough for Trucy here that she goes ahead with the forgery: She learns Zak is dead, that their family friend Kristoph killed him and they aren't allowed to talk to Apollo, then, once left alone with Luke, he doesn't handle her grief as well as he should... and she's already put the card together by the time Maya and Pearl arrive, at which point she has fully committed to slipping it to Apollo in court. I also set up mentions that Apollo and Trucy actually own cards identical to the ones at the Hydeout, which Trucy uses with her own blood to make the forged card. As Apollo's sister, she is able to much more sneakily slip him the card, under the guise of just giving him his magician's outfit to wear in court. Apollo, much more trusting of his sister than of a total stranger, assumes it must have come from Phoenix, as a piece of vital evidence to win their case. Phoenix himself, having told Luke and Trucy everything when they visited him in the detention centre, has no idea of what Trucy has done until Apollo presents the card, at which point he quickly puts everything together (though he isn't sure until after the trial is over whether Apollo is aware the card is forged or not) and takes the card while claiming responsibility for it. The moment he is alone with his kids once the trial is over, he confronts them on it to highlight to Trucy and Apollo just how close they came to disaster, warning Apollo to pay more attention to his evidence and Trucy to never falsify clues like that ever again.

I don't remember now if I actually did look up how long the window is for identifying DNA. Even so, once it's been in contact with other people, DNA samples are usually considered contaminated to my knowledge.

And then Apollo ruins the mood by bringing up his unemployment! Luke's point about how hard it would be for Apollo to find a new job after jailing his former employer is based on the fact that, in canon, Apollo spent two months fruitlessly looking for a job before finally giving in after Phoenix called him about an 'emergency' at the WAA, leading in to Turnabout Corner.

#wrightfamilyagency behind the scenes

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bevioletskies · 3 years

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call it magic (when i’m next to you) [chapter two]

summary: As the long-lost grandson of the illustrious Gramarye family, Apollo already knew his life was going to change for the better and for the worse. After spending his formative years on the run, adjusting to his new place in magical high society was never going to be easy. It’s only when he finds himself locked in a metaphorical - and sometimes literal - dance with Klavier Gavin, both his potential suitor and the bane of his existence, does he realize just how complicated things are about to become.

word count: 4,769

a/n: This fic is a magical ‘verse set in the regency era, where some artistic liberties are taken with the time period to accommodate the story and the magic lore. Most of the details of how this ‘verse works is explained in the fic, but I’ve made an explainer that also includes some image links to characters’ familiars, which can be found here.

Spoiler warning for minor plot points and character relationships in Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney and other games, including Investigations and Chronicles. Fic title is from the song Magic by Coldplay.

preview:

“As I’m sure you’ve surmised, we Gramaryes are the most powerful family in the country,” Trucy began with the theatrics of a young girl who seemed to belong on stage rather than in a ballroom. “Wealth, resources, magical potency, history...though there’s talk of our diminishing value, what with Mother being an only child and you and I being the great Magnifi’s only grandchildren. He takes pride in us being full-blooded empaths, however, and he expects us both to produce heirs of the same cut. Many of them.”

“...lovely,” Apollo muttered. “No pressure, then.”

“The two families directly beneath us - the Feys, a clan of powerful necromancers, and the van Zieks, a family of highly-educated arcanists.” Trucy first gestured towards a trio of young women with dark hair and identical cloaks in a rich, royal purple, then in the direction of two unusually tall men with unusually tight-fitting pantaloons; the older of the two was accompanied by a woman with rose-colored hair who was presumably his wife. “...have I neglected to mention that I’m promised to the youngest Fey?”

Apollo blinked. “You are? Since when?”

“Since Pearl and I were children,” Trucy confessed, her cheeks flushed with happiness. “Mr Wright is a family friend of the Feys; he was the one who introduced us. We felt a connection quite immediately, and Grandfather was more than pleased to make the match.”

“You mean to say that Mr Wright is a family friend to the two most powerful families in the country and he’s the suitor of a lord?” Apollo asked, amazed. “What on earth is he doing as our tutor, then?”

“Speaking of Lord Miles, there he is now!” Trucy enthused, motioning in the direction of a handsome, though somewhat serious-looking man, his mouth taut with apparent displeasure; Apollo wondered if he, too, disliked crowds. By the man’s side were two wards that appeared to be around Apollo’s age, a young man with a smug smile and a riding crop for some inexplicable reason, and a young woman with an impish grin and an intricately-patterned brisé fan. “Adopted into the von Karmas, though the family patriarch is no longer with us; his two charges are Sebastian and Kay, both of whom lost parents in one way or another. Notably, he and Mr Wright have been in love with one another for years, but deny it whenever people dare ask.”

“Oh,” Apollo said faintly. “That’s...something. Is it because Mr Wright isn’t of noble blood?”

“No, no one but Grandfather troubles themselves with that sort of thing,” Trucy replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Besides, Mr Wright’s cousin is engaged to a warrior prince despite being the son of humble - ah! Do you hear that?”

“No, I…” But then, Apollo felt a certain something beginning to tickle his ears, a sort of discordant song that clashed terribly with the live musicians, loud and bold and almost feverish in tone; he turned to see the grand hall doors swing open to reveal one of their many fashionably late guests, a young man who looked no more than a few years older than himself, wearing an silver hairpin in his luxurious-looking blond locks and a charming grin; at his side was a sleek German longhaired pointer with perhaps the silkiest fur Apollo had ever seen. He was a stark contrast to the rest of their guests, most of whom were sporting pale or bright colors, instead wearing a black shirt, waistcoat, and breeches, complemented by a plum-colored tailcoat and gloves to match. The harsh sound from earlier seemed to fervently increase in volume as the man crossed the floor, throwing his arms around Sebastian and Kay’s shoulders in lieu of a proper greeting. “...who is that, and what is that awful noise?”

(read on ao3)

#klapollo #kyodoroki #ace attorney #klapollo fic #ace attorney fic #myfic #myfic: call it magic #long post #here comes the boooooy

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 5 years

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Chapter 20: I can’t come up with a clever summary for this one that doesn’t ruin the surprise of the nonsense I’ve set loose, I’m sorry, I’m tired

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

Trucy has Christmas off from school – or maybe just takes it off, Apollo doesn’t ask these questions – but it is a weekday and the office is open, so Apollo spends it with her and Vera and Phoenix nowhere to be seen. “We would make a great investigation trio,” Trucy says, adjusting the Santa hat that she has moved from her head to Charley now to her wisp so that it, invisible beneath the hat, bobs about the office as some kind of strange holiday decor. “But I also hope no one comes in today, because – spending Christmas in jail because you’re accused of murder. Can you imagine?”

“Or being murdered on Christmas,” Apollo agrees.

Having said that, he still does like to get paid.

It’s cold, fae cold, like every Christmas Apollo has experienced in Los Angeles. (Like every Christmas Apollo has experienced; they didn’t celebrate it in Khura’in. They had their own holidays, things all dimmed down in his memories.) The dusting of snow across the sidewalk melts by afternoon between the bright sun and the foot traffic through the city, but the chill remains, making Apollo infinitely grateful for his Christmas presents from Trucy, a knitted beanie and scarf, even if the colors she chose for him are pink and limey green.

“I know you won’t really get cold,” Trucy had said to Vera, “but everyone should have cute scarves and hats, so you get one, too!” The knitwear she presented to Vera was pink and bright blue, colors that much better match her typical fashion – and her fae form, when she lets her glamour drop to hold the yarn against her skin. Trucy insists on a selfie with the three of them; right before she clicks the button, Vera washes away her watercolor skin, and grinning back from the photo are three apparent humans.

“Maybe shouldn’t have photo evidence that I’m not human,” Vera says quietly, but she is already reaching for her sketchpad and scribbling a tiny self-portrait, fae ears and all, in the corner of a page. She still takes a sketchbook everywhere with her but doesn’t keep it in hand at every moment, seeming a little more able and willing to express herself with words and either of her own faces.

Trucy tells them that she has also made Ema a scarf so that she can contribute to the scientific assessment that Trucy expects of Iris’ yarn. “Daddy says that humans who spend a long time in the fae world end up with kinds of glamours, too,” she explains to Vera, after catching her up on Iris. Apollo wonders who Phoenix learned this from; if he knew that, shouldn’t he have figured out what Klavier was sooner? Or is this another fact he’s only put together after that one realization? “So we’re all wondering what properties these might have. I expect you to take notes on anything strange while you’re wearing these. Like if people start telling you you’re more attractive.”

Apollo snorts. Trucy smacks him on the arm. “This is for science, Apollo!”

“How much do you talk to Ema, again?” He can’t say that he isn’t curious – could something like this be the origin of the infamous Magic Panties? – and he can’t say that he isn’t more curious than afraid nowadays, but he also can’t say that he’s not afraid of where this curiosity will take them. Everything Clay impressed upon him for thirteen years has collapsed in eight months.

(And Dhurke – well, maybe there was a nugget or two of advice Dhurke left him, half-forgotten, but he let Apollo and Nahyuta make their mistakes, and as far as that goes, Apollo is definitely making mistakes.)

Trucy is powerful, he’ll give her that. And if anyone can turn stage magic into entertainment in a city so full and wary of real magic, it would be her. (That seems to be her latest career aspiration, the latest turn of her Youtube channel after her stint as a cover artist, but she laments that it’s hard to really perform when she knows her audience could easily believe she’s just cleverly editing her videos.)

(If he really thinks about it, he wonders if she, like Klavier, has some innate glamour, if at least some part of her force of personality and charisma and likeability is magic.)

“I have two more very important things to tell you,” she says over a late lunch of Chinese, because Eldoon’s isn’t an option with Vera and he apparently takes some holidays off anyway.

“Uh-oh,” Apollo says.

The lights blink between two stages of brightness; Apollo still can’t really say he’s used to Mia’s rare laughter. “Excuse you!” Trucy says. “I object! I am having a New Years Eve party here and was going to tell you to come and invite your friends but now you are uninvited! Polly is, anyway. Vera you’re still good.”

“You can’t blame me!” Apollo says. “The amount of strange things that happen with Mr Wright, I never know if you’re just gonna tell me that he’s – I don’t know, got summoned back to the Twilight Realm for a stint and you need to crash on my couch – or whatever.”

“Oh, Daddy’s just over at Uncle Miles’ office today,” Trucy says. “Probably not actually doing work.”

“Uncle Miles?” Vera asks the question that Apollo was about to.

“Oh – Mr Prosecutor Edgeworth. Polly, you met him, right?”

“Prosecutor Edgeworth? I – yeah.” So he and Phoenix are close, close enough that Trucy calls him family. That’s probably important to know, another piece to Phoenix’s wide and varied social circle. “Well uh, I guess it’s good that he hasn’t been disappeared by the fae or something.”

“Oh, we’d be warned if something happened,” Trucy says. The cryptic vagueness of that statement seems fitting somehow. “There’s no need to worry!”

Apollo wouldn’t say he was worried; rather more of a neutral expectation he has that Phoenix is someday going to flake in some grander way than he did setting up the Jurist System.

“Anyway, New Years,” she continues. “I’m inviting a friend from school, and Ema, and a couple other people she and I know, and you can invite Clay if you want, and I need your phone for Prosecutor Gavin’s number to invite him.” She extends her hand, palm facing upward, to him.

“Erm,” Apollo says.

“Or you can invite him yourself,” Trucy says. She draws her hand back. “Do you think he’ll be more likely to say yeah to you or me? I mean, I’m cute but you already talk to him on the regular, so it could go either way.” She claps her hands together. “Okay, we’re decided: you invite him on my behalf!”

Apollo wouldn’t say that they actually decided it so much as Trucy decreed it, but sure, he’ll go with it. “I thought you and Ema didn’t know each other at all when we first met her,” he says. The tragicomedy of the white powder ordeal is still, and always will be, fresh in his mind when he thinks about Ema. “How do you have mutual friends?”

“Oh, y’know.” Trucy shrugs. Apollo does not know. “She knew Daddy and Uncle Miles back when, Uncle Miles knows other people who I know, then she meets them, then we meet – the usual. Everyone ends up working in the legal system.” She pauses. “Except me.”

“I think you count,” Vera says.

“You’re co-counsel,” Apollo says. “You definitely count.”

“I guess you’re right,” Trucy says. “Magic just keeps ending up hand-in-hand with the law.” She sits forward conspiratorial, steepling her fingers in front of her face. “Now,” she adds, unable to stop herself from grinning, “the second thing. This is top secret, invite-from-me-only stuff. It’s a secret family tradition that I’m only inviting the two of you and Ema and Kay’s tagging along because she’s like a superspy and found out about my conversation with Ema – anyway.” Leaving Apollo with little time to parse that sentence – does he know who Kay is? Has he heard that name before? He doesn’t think so – Trucy holds up a pointer finger. “You are both cordially invited to The Gourdyversary.”

“The what?” Apollo asks.

“The Gourdyversary,” Trucy repeats, sounding very serious but still grinning all the while. “The Gourdy Anniversary. It’s a very very secret Wright-Butz friendship tradition that is also very very important for the upkeep of Gourd Lake Park.”

“You’re losing me,” Apollo says. “Also, if it’s this secret, and you’re busting it open to everyone--”

“Not everyone! I thought Ema would be super interested, and Kay was being stalky, like I said, and then the two of you are super important parts other parts of the Wright-Butz social circle, so I was allowed to invite you!” Her eyes narrow in concentration. “Also,” she says, with an air of recollecting something, “Daddy mentioned you specifically, Polly, said that he’d like to see the look on your face because you always react a lot to finding out new magic stuff.”

“Great,” Apollo mutters. “I cordially decline your invitation.” He looks at Vera, who is just as confused as him, blinking her huge eyes owlishly at Trucy. “Wait,” he says. “‘Butz’? Who’s that?”

“You know – oh!” Trucy laughs and falls further back into the couch. “You don’t! That’s Uncle Larry’s other last name, the one he had first.”

On one hand, Apollo can’t really blame someone for wanting to be rid of that surname, especially in a profession where names are as important as they are to authors. On the other hand, there’s a certain expectation that Apollo has come to have. “Is this a fae thing in some way?”

Vera is the first to nod. “Deauxnim was one of the names his mentor used.” It appears thoughtless now, both the way she starts to raise her hand to her lips and the way she puts it back down. Is another incentive for her to break her habit of chewing her nails how strange the thought must be that she also has claws in a different form? Could it be possible for her to chew her claws off? “The last name she used before… before she died. She gave it to him.” She picks at the eraser on her pencil, clearly for something to do with her hands. “He – Mr Laurice offered it to me, too. If I want – if I want to sell my art someday and use it for my career, I could be…” She frowns at her sketchbook. “Vera Deauxnim.”

“I’d do it!” Trucy says. “It’s a good name, Uncle Larry says, and Uncle Valant always told me that it’s good to have spare names in case you really need to give one away.” She frowns, too. “But he only had one name. He was only ever ‘Gramarye’.”

“I know it’s a good name,” Vera says. “Mr Laurice says it’s lucky. But I have my name already, and it’s my dad’s. I shouldn’t – I shouldn’t give that up. Should I?”

“You’re not giving up anything!” Trucy says. “You’re Vera Misham and you can be Vera Deauxnim, like I’m Trucy Wright and then Trucy Gramarye on Youtube because that’s both my family and I can be both. Like Prosecutor Gavin said about different faces.” She spreads her hands wide in the air in front of her like she’s spreading something out for them to look at. “We contain multitudes!”

That pulls a grin onto Vera’s face.

“I must’ve missed when you started going by Gramarye again,” Apollo says. She’s called herself Trucy the Enigma, which he knows is a reference to her father’s name, and that was as far as he knew.

“Yeah,” she says, stretching herself out further on the half of the couch she has claimed. “It was sometime after we talked about just – me, and magic, in general, all that. And I thought, it’s my mom’s name too, I want to keep it for her. So I’ll make it mean something good, like I think it should be. Like I used to think it was.”

He wonders if when she holds the mitamah she hears something like he heard music; he wonders if he’d hear it again if he picked it back up. Sometimes he feels drawn to that drawer of Phoenix’s desk, a compulsion to understand who she was – is? A dead body with a bullet in it but a soul that is still here glowing? – that he stifles again and again. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, knowing how hard it all hit Trucy, knowing that she still can’t always find the light behind her eyes, but she forestalls him with a red-tinted grin. (A lie. Her smile is a lie, and it’s magic, a fae blessing, that tells him this.)

“Man, names are so complicated,” she says. And Apollo sees red and oh, this is the limit of it, isn’t it? Her smile is a lie but while he’s seeing that, any words she says might be true, might be a lie, and he’s already going to be stuck on her expression.

(Who was it that gave him Truth? Which one of them thought that was the most important gift? Dhurke? Datz? Nahyuta?)

“And they’d be this complicated even without all the magic,” Trucy continues. She cranes her neck to look at Vera’s sketchbook. “Ooh, nice!”

(Complicated, nonmagic, Apollo knows that too. On his birth certificate, a forgery, his father’s name is Jay Justice because his stage name was Jangly and they didn’t know his real name and even Datz who had the papers drawn up seemed to realize that they couldn’t put that down and just the initial J was a little sparse. His mother’s name they made up entirely. Dhurke named her Hera, because he always thought he was funny. Apollo had looked it up sometime in middle school. Hera wasn’t even the mythological Apollo’s mother.)

Vera has Trucy’s phone balanced up on the piano, showing off the selfie, and she is sketching from it but for herself, pointed ears and big eyes. “So what is the, um, Gourd… Gourdversary?”

“Gourdyversary,” Trucy repeats, as though she is teaching them an actual word that they might need to know. “You know Gourd Lake Park, maybe?” Vera shakes her head. Apollo nods. It was in the vague area of Apollo and Clay’s high school and a corner of the park was the popular hangout for stoners, which meant Apollo wasn’t surprised when a lake monster was sighted there. (He was surprised that tourists and not stoned kids who first made the claim.) In their senior year, he and Clay camped out in the abandoned, allegedly-haunted, boat shack, or tried to, made it to about midnight when Clay swore he heard a voice, and then later lied about it to their friends and Clay’s siblings to claim that they totally spent the whole night there and nothing happened. Every few years there were attempts to revitalize the park and make it a real community location. Those never worked.

“Well,” Trucy continues, “always sometime after Christmas, this year, it’ll be the 27th that, we go, before dawn, to the lake, to make the annual sacrifice.”

“I don’t like the sound of this in the slightest,” Apollo says.

“We don’t sacrifice people,” Trucy says. “C’mon, Polly. Really.”

“I hate that you know exactly what I was about to ask because it is actually a reasonable question in these circumstances.” Apollo smacks his head into the couch and stares at the ceiling. “Sacrifice what, then? To what? The lake?”

“You have to come along to know,” Trucy says smugly. “Exact time and meeting location will be disseminated only to true believers.”

“Believers of what?” Apollo demands.

Vera has folded her knees up onto the couch and has her sketchbook propped against them, her dark human eyes peering out from behind the top of it, darting between Trucy and Apollo.

“You’ll see,” Trucy says.

The next morning, Phoenix enters the office and asks for Apollo’s help getting the doors so that he can carry inside a heavy grocery bag filled with twelve-packs of hot dogs. “What is this for?” Apollo asks, when he’s followed Phoenix into the kitchen (not even asking why Mia wouldn’t get the doors because he knows the answer is going to be that she rightfully thinks whatever is going on is stupid) to watch him maneuver the contents into the refrigerator.

“The Gourdyversary,” Phoenix replies. He pushes the fridge door closed only for it to pop back open and six packs spill back to the floor.

“Is this a hazing ritual?” Apollo asks. “Like, am I getting hazed?”

“Apollo, I’m pretty sure the entire Kitaki case was the universe conducting a hazing ritual on you,” Phoenix says. “Why would I bother with anything else?” He winks. “See you bright and early tomorrow, huh?”

“I haven’t agreed to this ridiculous venture,” Apollo says.

Phoenix slams the refrigerator shut with more force this time. “But are you really going to disappoint Trucy?” He manages to take one step before, in defiance, the fridge spits some of its contents back out. “Come on, seriously?” he asks, turning about in a circle and gesturing helplessly to the room at large. “Just let us do our dumb shit, Mia, c’mon.”

Apollo leaves him to fight with the ghost of his mentor, only to find that Vera has definitively declined to join in on the Gourdyversary, and consequently, Trucy is pouting at him with the most pathetic puppy eyes he has ever seen from a person.

It isn’t that – he tells her, several times, it isn’t that – which gets him, and she, seeing Truth, should know that is the truth, but she keeps proclaiming victory for her powers of persuasion – “Powers of getting people to pity you, if anything” – when he acquiesces. It’s curiosity, purely and painfully, and if it’s only painful in the moment for everything required to make it to the main gates of Gourd Lake Park at 6 am, the chances are high that it’s going to be worse next time. And there’s going to be a next time, he’s sure of it: he’s come to feel at home in an office filled with the lingering wraith of a fae queen, followed Trucy and Klavier in pursuit of grimoires and faery rings, and he’s becoming desensitized, he’s sure of it. He’s on the road to becoming a missing persons report or a cautionary folktale for future generations.

But damn if he isn’t curious as to why Phoenix “cheapskate” Wright bought more than a dozen dozens of hot dogs.

Trucy’s gifts, the scarf and hat, seem to block out the wind better than any other he can recall owning, which Apollo tells her to note down for her experimental records when he reaches the park entrance. Twilight Realm yarn, helping him resist the fae’s cold snaps. The dead brown grass is dusted with snow and a few more errant flakes drift down from the dark sky. Whenever the sun finally rises, they probably won’t see it. Trucy is waiting when he arrives, bundled up in a heavy coat and matching blue knitted hat, scarf, and gloves, and talking with two women. One is Ema, recognizable by the crinkling snack bag in her hands – “Are you aware of the time?” “Yeah, it’s snack time.” – and the dead-eyed glare from over the pink scarf Trucy apparently saddled her with.

The other, Apollo has never seen, but when she spots him, she abandons her conversation and bounds over to him, grabbing his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “Hi!” she chirps. “I’m Kay! Kay Faraday! Super glad to finally meet you, Apollo!”

Finally?

“Uh,” he says, allowing her to wrench his arm about, “I’m sorry, but I have no idea who you are.”

“That’s okay!” She lets go of his hand and strikes a pose, one hand in the air and the other on her hip. None of her clothing seems quite to match, a puffy pink coat with a huge dark scarf, gold hair accessories, and leather gloves that look more expensive than his life. “Kay Faraday, homicide detective, Great Thief and Mr Edgeworth’s first and best assistant, at your service.”

“You lost me at ‘thief’ right after ‘detective’,” Apollo says. He can already see why Trucy likes her, though.

“Get used to confusion,” Ema says dryly. “That’s all she does for you.”

“Rude,” Kay says. She skips back past Trucy and Ema and down the park path. “Let’s go get gourded out of our gourds already!”

“I don’t know what that means but I refuse to do that,” Ema says. She doesn’t move, watches Trucy race after Kay, and then holds out the Snackoos bag to Apollo. “Kay wasn’t even invited. She was just creeping around and was unrelenting in demanding to accompany me in finding out whatever Trucy’s on about.” Apollo declines the Snackoos and she shrugs and shoves a few more into her mouth. “That’s also how she makes friends so watch it or you’re next.”

“I see,” Apollo says, even though he isn’t sure that he does. “It sounds, uh, interesting down at the precinct.”

Ema snorts. “We’re like two steps away from being a coven at this point.”

“Prosecutor Edgeworth said something like that.”

She nods sagely. “He thinks he can stop it but I know it’s futile.” She stuffs the Snackoos into her jacket pocket and pulls her scarf up against the sudden onslaught of wind. “How’s Trucy doing?” she asks quietly, eyeing the distant backs of her and Kay. “Haven’t heard from her much since October and” – a pause, a search for a tactful phrasing that she doesn’t find – “all that shit.”

And it was, nothing but a bunch of shit, no more honest way Apollo can think to say it, Ema cutting back to the heart of the matter. “Better, I think,” he says. “We had a couple conversations about her family and er grandfather that seemed like – like she’s figuring it out.” Or just coping, but even that is harder than it sounds. “And Mr Wright is spending a lot of time looking into the mitamah thing trying to deal with that.”

“That’s good.” She sounds like she means it. “If anyone can find a way to fix it, it’ll be Mr Wright. I’m sure of it.” And on that she sounds so confident that Apollo almost believes her. Isn’t that how Trucy said magic works? And what must Phoenix have done for Ema that she still has such faith in him?

Trucy stands planted in the path ahead, fists on her hips, facing them. “Hurry up!” she calls.

“Bunch of snails!” Kay yells. Ema flips her off but above her scarf, her eyes squint up like she’s grinning.

“So clarify for me how you all know each other,” Apollo says when the four of them have reconvened. Along the edges of the path the trees thin out and he can see the dark glassy surface of the water. “Through Prosecutor Edgeworth?”

“Basically!” Kay says. “I first helped him investigate cases years ago – I saved him when he got kidnapped – then there were some international incidents – I got accused of arson once and murder twice – it was a ridiculous month. And we ran into Emmy” – Emmy? Apollo raises an eyebrow and Ema stares back with unchanging expression – “and she already knew Mr Edgeworth from stuff and she helped us out. And then later working with Mr Edgeworth, I met Mr Wright, and my little apprentice thief.” She throws her arm around Trucy’s shoulders and grins.

“I thought you were my assistant,” Trucy says.

“Anyway!” Kay barrels past that statement. Trucy sticks her tongue out at her. “Then Emmy came back to work at the precinct and hang with me again, and then she met you, and here we are!”

Apollo almost keeps pace with that. He has about half a dozen follow-up questions about the arson and murder, but they’ve come up to the biggest gathering area of the part, a few vendor’s stands unattended for the weather and time of day, and Phoenix and Larry waiting by the one bare tree in the area, the bag of hot dogs at their feet. “Hi, Mr Wright!” Kay shouts. “Hi, Mr Steel Samurai!”

“You’re never gonna let me live it down, are you?” Larry asks.

Kay swings a friendly punch at his shoulder. “Nah, but I don’t let Mr Edgeworth forget about it, either, if that helps.”

“It absolutely does,” Larry says.

“So are you gonna tell us what’s going on or drag out the mystery for a little longer?” Ema asks.

Phoenix and Larry look at each other. “I’m thinking we drag it out,” Larry says.

“I already have my reputation for being cryptic,” Phoenix says, turning his head to stare directly at Apollo, “so yeah, let’s torment the kids a little longer. And besides,” he adds, stooping and wincing as he hauls the bag back up into his arms, “we’ve still got a little further to walk. We’re heading back through the woods there – there’s a little outlet to the shore that’s a little more hidden.”

“The hot dogs are the sacrifice, right?” Apollo asks. Larry gives a thumbs-up. “So then you could just answer what we’re sacrificing to—”

“Wait.” Ema stops walking. “Trucy, you didn’t tell me there was ritual sacrifice involved. You just said ‘hey, there’s something you will want to see, scientifically speaking’ and I asked to make sure it wasn’t a hoax like the last time people said there was something cool at Gourd Lake—”

Phoenix and Larry glance at each other. Trucy looks up at them both. “No,” Ema says. “No, do not tell me that the lake monster is real.”

“You proved in court that it was a hoax,” Apollo says. “You proved that it wasn’t a real—”

“I thought I proved that,” Phoenix says, thankfully not taking any time to dwell on the fact that Apollo knows his cases well enough to know exactly when this happened. “I did prove that loud banging noises aren’t the hallmark of the monster, and that Larry was out on the lake looking for a bigass balloon he’d launched into orbit—”

“The balloon was also very real,” Larry supplies helpfully. “It was the Steel Samurai. It was pretty cool until I slipped up inflating it with the air canister. Launched that, too.”

“—but we were accidentally enlightened as to a little more, when was it – a couple days after the trial?”

“The day after,” Larry says. “And already you were moping about being lonely with Maya going back to Fairyland—”

“—so I went all the way to the bottom of my contacts list and came to hang out with you at your hot dog stand—”

“You had like, three people in your phone then. Don’t pretend like I was your last-ditch social reject friend! You’re my last-ditch reject friend!”

Ema coughs. Phoenix and Larry both clearly take the cue to continue the narrative. “We were about the only people in the park, hanging out back there.” Phoenix points back over his shoulder with his thumb. They are passing by the old boat shack now, its shattered windows and unstable rotting dock, and Apollo shudders. One step on that and it’s straight into the water. “And then, just, out of lake—” He waves vaguely and purses his lips together. “There she was.”

“And that’s why hot dogs?” Apollo asks. “Because he had a hot dog stand then?”

“Yeah.” Larry shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like hey, we didn’t know if it was gonna eat us, figured we’d throw some food that wasn’t us and hope that was enough.”

“And now we come back yearly with offerings to hopefully appease her and never find out why she was sealed away in the first place. Because as it turns out,” Phoenix continues, grinning broadly, far too amused for the fact that they are discussing the potential of some lake monster to eat people, “someone’s flyaway balloon got caught on a warding sigil and tore it off. Make a hoax monster while releasing the real monster.” His grin shrinks just a little. “We found the place where the seal originally was and went looking all over the park hoping to find it and put it back, but no such luck. Not like you can dig magic rocks out with a metal detector.”

“I cannot believe that Mr Edgeworth and I solved an entire murder conspiracy here at this lake and he never told me there’s a real monster in it!” Kay pouts. She does a good impression of a moody teenager, kicking a stray rock out of the way on the path, but she can only hold it for a few seconds.

Phoenix and Larry again exchange a look.

“He uh,” Kay says, her eyes narrowing, “does know about the lake monster, right?”

Phoenix sucks in a breath through gritted teeth. Larry elbows him in the ribs. “This one's all on you, buddy,” he says with a wicked grin. “You justify yourself.”

“Edgeworth does not know,” Phoenix says, sounding pained. Kay gasps exaggeratedly loudly. “Listen, we weren’t on as good of terms back then! He knew the part that came out in court about the hoax, and then I was not exactly sure that he would appreciate me reaching out to tell him no, there’s an entire fae monster actually there now.”

“And the ten years since then where you’ve been on very good terms?” Larry asks, still grinning.

“Fuck you,” Phoenix says to him. “I’d call it eight, also.”

“I think you should tell him,” Kay says. “He could stand to have his preconceptions shaken up every so often, that there’s more magic just chilling around than he thinks there is.”

“Yeah,” Phoenix says dryly, “until he asks me how long I’ve known and I have to figure out whether he’d believe it if I lied to him. Like logically I know the best thing to do, but at this point half of the fear of telling is the ‘why did you not mention that you knew this sooner?’ so I just drag it out even longer in the hopes that we’ll all live and die before Gourdy ever makes a situation where I’d have to mention it to him.”

“That is a very bad way of handling secrets, Daddy,” Trucy says.

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I know.” Phoenix frowns and sighs and shakes his head. “Though this isn’t just me covering my ass right now, but I think our new Chief Prosecutor has a lot more important things to deal with.”

The path they follow through the woods is almost overgrown with the tangled underbrush and buried beneath icy dead leaves. Phoenix and Larry, when they aren’t bickering, seem to confidently know the way, leading their small troupe out onto the saddest beach Apollo has ever seen. Sand and mud mix with snow for a slick surface that slopes straight down into the water, and an old weathered sign prohibiting camping is the only apparent clue that people come out here – though why anyone would want to camp here, Apollo has no idea.

Phoenix drops the bag into the wet ground. “Oi, Gourdy!” Larry calls. His voice doesn’t echo on the open lake but seems to be swallowed up by the white fog that has begun to swirl across the surface of the water. “We’ve got your yearly sacrifices!”

“Please don’t say it like that,” Apollo says. “That makes me think you’re going to throw us into the lake.”

“If I’m throwing anyone, it’d be Larry,” Phoenix says.

Larry, standing right at the edge of the water, flips him off over his shoulder. Through the fog, Apollo can see the water rippling, before it moves, pointedly, a long white wake pushing toward the shore. Larry scrambles backwards up the slope to Phoenix and the bag of hot dogs, grabbing an entire pack but not attempting to tear it open.

At first Apollo thinks that it’s a catfish, coming up strangely above the water. Then it keeps rising out of the water, far higher than a fish could, and he sees – he doesn’t know what he sees. It has a face like a catfish with the wide, gaping mouth, the barbels, and the beady eyes at the sides of its head; but past its eyes, it has small pointed ears and an otherwise horse-like body, its skin a slimy-looking brownish-green and its mane a long tangled curtain of seaweed. “Oh,” Kay says, very softly. “Oh, geez.”

Larry tosses the pack of hot dogs, plastic wrapping and all, in an underhand arc toward the creature. It stretches its neck out and catches the hot dogs in its wide mouth, throwing its head back and appearing to swallow the package whole. “You feed it plastic?” Ema asks. “It – her?”

“I call her ‘her’,” Phoenix says, “but that’s mostly because all the most powerful and terrifying fae I’ve known have been women, and not for any actual reason. But yeah, most of the fae and fae creatures I’ve known also have not been concerned with what humans do or don’t consider edible.”

“That sounds like some people I know,” Ema says. Kay pouts, but Ema isn’t looking in her direction. Her eyes are fixed, understandably, on the horse-catfish creature.

“S’good as far as keeping litter out of the lake,” Larry says. He grabs another package to throw. Phoenix hasn’t reached for the bag but is instead grinning at the stunned expressions on their three faces. “But yeah, we just show up, feed it a couple dozen hot dogs, and then do it again next year. Simple stuff.”

“So you really did just invite us to see the looks on our faces,” Apollo says. Phoenix’s grin does not waver. Trucy grabs two packs out of the bag and tosses them each at different sides of the creature – Gourdy, they call it Gourdy, a cute name for something that is frankly terrifying – and it swings its head about, inhaling one after the other.

“Worth,” Kay says, still wide-eyed.

“You weren’t even invited,” Ema says. She frowns, staring up at Gourdy from narrowed eyes. Is this how tall horses usually are? Did it get the size right when it took this nebulously horse-like shape? “I wonder,” she mutters, more to herself than anyone. “Do you think it always looked like this, or it tried to look like things that do exist in our world as a – disguise, I guess. An attempt at one?” She glances over to Phoenix. “Because you’ve said the fae in their true forms look sort-of but not quite like humans, but that they can’t really – alter their glamoured appearances very much?”

Phoenix nods. “It’s more innate,” he says. “What, say, Mia looked like is what Mia looked like. She didn’t just decide, oh, when I pretend to be human I want brown hair. But that’s just the fae, and fae animals are an entirely other barrel of catfish.” He reaches up to adjust his beanie. “Horses. Catfish-horses.”

“Someone who can’t really draw’s idea of a horse,” Apollo offers.

“Don’t be rude!” Trucy scolds. “She’s beautiful!”

Gourdy turns one tiny beady eye on Apollo. Maybe it’s just coincidence, but he decides that he’s not going to say anything that can be perceived as insult again – he doesn’t know how smart this thing is and if it’s fae it probably has very dangerous responses to insults.

“But it’s like…” Ema pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts frantically typing something. “Was it trying to look like natural wildlife? Is it coincidence? Convergent development? How long has it been sealed here and was that before horses were introduced to North America? I have questions!”

Phoenix chuckles and Ema lowers her phone, turning her furious glare on him. “Don’t laugh!” she snaps. “This is interesting! These are real questions!”

“I knew you’d think so,” Trucy says brightly, instantly diffusing the first bits of tension. “And since I dragged you and Polly out on... “ She sighs. “You know. So I thought I’d at least drag you out to some fun magic stuff!”

She thinks she owes them, to make up for the debacle of finding her mother’s soul. Or she was hoping for something like an adventure and wanted to bring them on that. Apollo isn’t sure whether he’d count this as fun, either, learning that there’s a catfish-horse that could probably kill all of them somehow in the lake, but Trucy seems happy.

“I promise I’m not laughing at you, Ema,” Phoenix says, holding his hands up in an attempt to placate her. Apollo doesn’t see that he’s lying. “It’s just nice to see you get a bit of your spark back.”

The angry huff of her cheeks deflates instantly. “I was probably real annoying as a kid, babbling like that the whole time while you were just trying to investigate, huh?”

“Not at all,” Phoenix says, and again, he isn’t lying. “I mean, I’ll admit to having been a little terrified that if I let you out of my sight you were gonna summon something or make a bad deal trying to get more tools for investigating, but I wasn’t annoyed.”

Ema pulls her scarf back up over her nose, but Apollo catches a glimpse of the sad smile on her face as she does. Then she steps forward and grabs a pack of hot dogs, extending it in her hand to Gourdy on approach. With about a foot between its mouth and her hand, she apparently decides not to risk having her arm be swallowed, and she gives the pack a little toss to get it to its destination. “Oh,” she says, “sort of related, Lana asked about you the other day, Mr Wright. Wanted to know how you’re doing.”

“Ah.” Phoenix rubs the back of his neck. “At least with the Jurist System you’ve got something to tell her more than ‘still sucks at playing the piano’.” His sheepish expression looks a little less when he reaches the part about the piano, and Trucy laughs. Apollo again wonders why he ever bothered to get a piano for the office. “Where is she now, anyway? She got out a year or two ago, right?”

“About two years now, yeah,” Ema says. There is a rhythm to them feeding Gourdy, now, Larry, Trucy, and Ema. Phoenix seems content to hang back, and while Kay bounds forward, Apollo has no inclination to join in on this part of it. “She’s out near Reno, just wanted to get away, and she’s talking moving out to London where we’ve got some family. She’s hesitating now that I’m back, or something, but I told her just get outta here, flee the continent, go somewhere that no one knows your name, y’know?”

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix says. “I’d – had that option, honestly, but—”

“But you didn’t do anything,” Ema interrupts. “And she kinda did… most of it.”

“Do you think Gourdy would let me pet her?” Kay asks.

“I would not try it,” Phoenix says. Kay’s shoulders slump.

“She was gushing about the Jurist System when we talked about it, though,” Ema continues, with only a brief roll of her eyes at Kay’s question.

“I can’t imagine her gushing,” Phoenix says.

Ema shrugs. “It’s – a big thing, y’know, to her. To all of us, but, she’d said – she’d said that maybe it could’ve helped stop Darke, put him away before even more people died and…” She looks from her phone down to the hot dog bag. Its contents are mostly depleted but she grabs one and hurls it with a surprising amount of force. “Good for cases like that. Common sense, no evidence, maybe now justice gets served.”

Apollo can’t say why the name Lana, Lana Skye, seems familiar, but he knows with the expression on Ema and Phoenix’s faces, he’s not about to ask.

Kay whispers something to Trucy and, both giggling, Kay hefts the bag and whatever remains in it onto her shoulder and flings the entire thing at Gourdy. Its mouth doesn’t look wide enough to take in the entire bag, but it does – the bag is there and then gone with a wet sucking sound in the time it takes Apollo to blink. He suddenly wonders if when Klavier complains about Vongole eating everything he has, he means everything, takeout containers and all.

“That’s, um…” Ema taps a finger against her chin. “That’s something. Kind of impressive. Kind of horrible!”

“And scientifically fascinating?” Kay prompts.

“Absolutely!”

“That’s all we’ve got,” Larry says to the beast, showing it his empty hands, like he’s sending off a dog that has gotten its share of treats but continues begging. “Good talk as always, Gourdy. See ya next year.”

Gourdy tilts its head, seeming to carefully survey Larry. It trots forward and for a horrible moment Apollo thinks someone is going to be eaten but Gourdy bumps its square fishy head into Larry’s face and makes an arc back into the water. Its tail is the same as its mane, stringy green and brown weeds with sand and grit tangled up in them. The water around it barely ripples as it enters, doesn’t splash when the creature goes from being half-visible to gone, and the wake moving away from them is weaker than the one that arrived. The arc of its hoofprints left in the snowy sand are backwards, like it left the water where it really just entered.

“Very slimy,” Larry says, wiping his face with his jacket sleeve. “Sticky, slimy, would not headbutt again.”

“But you’re friends now!” Trucy says. “Officially!”

“You never knew what its skin was like before?” Ema asks. She has her phone out again for notes. Kay peers over her shoulder. “Or beyond what you could see that yeah it’s probably fishy. How long have you been doing this again?”

“It’s… Shit.” Phoenix shakes his head, laughing again. “Ten years, now.”

“Plenty of time to have observed and thought about some of the questions on my list.” Ema lowers her phone and stares at Phoenix. “I have questions.”

“My answer is gonna be ‘I don’t know’ to most, but go for it,” Phoenix says.

“There’s gotta be somewhere open for breakfast, right?” Larry says. “Right? Who’s up for that?”

“Eldoon’s!” Trucy says brightly.

“Oh no, no no.” Larry holds up his hands and takes a step back from her. “Eldoon’s for breakfast reminds me of being broke as hell and I’m not about that.”

“That mean you’re paying wherever we go?” Phoenix asks dryly. “Since I got the hot dogs and you’re worth your weight in faery gold now.”

Apollo looks at Ema. Ema glances out of the corner of her eyes first at Larry, then Apollo, then Kay. Kay looks back and forth between Phoenix and Larry.

“Metaphorical gold,” Larry says, jabbing a finger at Phoenix. “You can not phrase it like that, so they” – he points a thumb toward Ema and Kay – “can not be terrified.”

“I’m super down for breakfast, if nobody else is gonna say anything,” Kay chirps.

“You not gonna eat garbage for once?” Trucy asks. She says it with a grin so big that Apollo would find it impossible to take offense if she directed those words or similar at him.

“Hey!” Kay protests. “It’s cheap! It’s cost-efficient!”

“Like you have to worry about that,” Ema says, elbowing her. “Like hell won’t be frozen before Mr Edgeworth lets anyone threaten your salary.” Kay elbows her back, apparently harder, because she staggers. “Anyway,” she adds, looking more at Larry and Phoenix again, “Interrogating you both over breakfast sounds great.”

“Do you ever worry that bringing more and more people in on these secrets makes them untenable?” Apollo asks Trucy. It’s probably a better question for Phoenix, but Ema has already begun the process of cornering him. “Just – showing off magic to us all?”

Trucy shrugs. “Maybe?” she offers. She hooks one arm through Apollo’s elbow and the other through Kay’s. “You and Ema already know so much other stuff.” For a moment her eyes are sad, downcast, and then she turns a sharp look on Kay. “You, though—”

“Guilty of whatever you say,” she laughs.

Trucy shrugs again, jostling Apollo’s shoulder too. “But also we’re like family, and family should get to know some of the weird fun secrets that we have.”

Again Apollo wonders at her definition of fun. But family. Or like family. Like-family is nice to have.

Phoenix, over Ema’s head, raises an eyebrow at her. “Hey Truce,” he says. “Does that mean you’re gonna run off and tell Edgeworth without warning me?”

“I might,” Kay says, snickering and nudging Trucy, who bumps Apollo with the force of it.

Phoenix snorts. “Yeah,” he says. “I know you would, but I’m not sure he’d believe you.”

#fic: the seelie of kurain #roddy fanfics

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 5 years

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Chapter Thirteen: this sure is a fuckin’ chapter that’s for sure

I drop this on you at 11 pm after nearly two weeks of silence because I have no respect for neither man nor fae nor god

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

If he had looked at any of Mia’s books sooner, he would have found that about a fourth of them only look like law books and are, behind the covers, spellbooks or grimoires of fae secrets. And maybe if he had learned that any time before the last year and a half, he would have had time to look through them all, to know if there was anything on the mechanics of selling souls in their depths, and he could have jumped right to that now.

Instead, he’s brought all of them home in three loads and has them stacked up on the floor beside his bed. Grimoires don’t have indexes so he can’t exactly just look up mitamah in the back and jump right to the page. And skimming is difficult with the text size — god, does he need reading glasses? At least he outlasted Edgeworth in that front — so he’s left with a laborious process that feels like law school again. He stole a pack of sticky notes from Trucy’s desk and has marked up several of the books with tabs and folded corners and notes in the margins, things he wants to come back to when he’s not stretched thin between the Jurist System and this.

He is trying to untangle a note in the margin that he didn’t write, that isn’t in Mia’s hand, and when he looks up he doesn’t know how long Trucy has been standing there.

She hasn’t said much to him all day since Apollo and Ema and Clay left, when she took her laptop and her phone and a blanket and curled up in what used to be her hidey-hole beneath what is now Apollo’s desk. When he ducked in on her to tell her to get ready to leave, she said she had been texting Jinxie and pirating anime. Which maybe was distraction enough at the time, but when night and the dark and the quiet press in, is no longer.

He’s wondered when she will allow herself to have a well-deserved breakdown.

He sets the spellbook down. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She looks eight years old again in the doorway, unsure of what space she was allowed to take up, those moments when the act slipped and she let show an uncertainty of if she was allowed to exist in the household without contributing something positive, her optimism in the office and her Magic Panties and her singing voice at the Wonder Bar. If she was allowed to grieve.

He waits for a question about Magnifi.

She pads across the room and curls up on the bed next to him, her back to his side, her face turned away. “Why did my daddy leave me?” she asks.

Because he was at best a fool, at worst selfish. Because he at best couldn’t see well enough to know the die had already been cast, the cards dealt, and thought if he ran the consequences that he didn’t know had already been marked wouldn’t fall on Trucy’s neck; and he at worst thought to unburden himself of her, to leave her behind to fill the noose. Because he at best couldn’t see at all, and at worst could see enough to think to save himself from being cursed.

Phoenix would like to think the best of people — really, truly he would — but god damn if Zak doesn’t test him in every way possible.

And god damn if he isn’t glad that Trucy came to him before the Gramaryes could do worse to her. Before she could lose her soul and her life, like her mother.

“I think,” Phoenix says, because he doesn’t know, not for sure, got stonewalled by vagueness on one end and by black locks on the other, “that he was trying to keep that diary page safe and out of anyone else’s hands.”

“Ema said that,” Trucy mumbles. “Asked if that was why he hadn’t looked for the map after all these years. But why would he think he had to run and hide from Uncle Valant?”

“Because I don’t think he was running from Valant.”

It’s all supposition, nothing a court of law would accept. A jury might not even accept these conclusions. But it’s all Phoenix has, even after seven years, pieces of guesses and guesses at pieces for the why. “I think that’s why Kristoph wanted to defend him. He wanted the diary page, the map — he wanted Magnifi’s power.”

“That soul,” Trucy says. “The — mia-tamah?”

“Mitamah.”

“Mitamah.” She lets the seconds drag out. “Why didn’t he take me with him?”

Shortsightedly foolish or callously selfish. “Perhaps he thought it would keep you safer,” he answers. He can’t say I think anymore, not knowing what to think, not wanting to plainly lie to Trucy even when she isn’t looking at him. Maybe Zak meant well, maybe. That’s the best Phoenix could say. “That you would be overlooked when not with him, and then when the danger had passed, he could come back.”

If he thought that, he was wrong, on so many levels: running was too little, too late, for Trucy to go ignored. (The devil handed her a diary page and pulled her into his plots.) And after seven years Zak underestimated the length of a grudge, didn’t notice the hound hunting him. (Or he did, and realized he couldn’t escape it stalwart pursual, and thought to bring the diary page home before the jaws closed on his neck. The hunting hound herded her prey to her master’s waiting claws.)

Trucy’s breathing is too soft and shallow for her to be asleep. What is there for either of them to say? He watched Trucy feed a snack to Kristoph’s hound while they waited for the jury’s verdict; she isn’t going to want to know its true purpose, whose necks it has left the mark of fangs in, tempered now only by a new handler of better nature. (Phoenix knows it would be easier to live with not knowing, with not having to face that failure. He doesn’t know how Kristoph kept the hound caged out of Phoenix's sight until Kristoph was clapped in irons.)

“Daddy? If you had to leave me you would tell me why, right?”

If Phoenix had to choose a man to smack upside the head with a wine bottle, he would probably still choose Zak Gramarye.

“I’m not going to leave you, Trucy, ever. I promised I won’t disappear and I mean it.” She curls a little tighter into herself and sniffs audibly. “I know you are safest with me, here, with Mia.” This line of reassurance doesn’t seem to be working as well as he hoped. “But if - if anything were to happen, then, yes, I would make sure you knew why.”

She rolls over, eyes filled with tears. “Why wouldn’t he just give the soul back before he died?” she asks. “That’s not right, that’s not fair, to keep it! To take it at all!”

She can’t be at peace with what happened with Zak, not by a long shot, but there’s still too much else for her to grapple with, all at once, and still the more that she doesn’t know. His heart breaks for her. “Oh, sweetheart, I know. It’s not.”

She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. “I wanted to be like him, and now I don’t know anything. I don’t know what anything is!” She sniffles loudly and looks away again. “I don’t even know if I want to be a magician anymore. Not when magic is all just taking things that aren’t yours!”

Not quite all — she knows that. She knows Mia. She doesn’t know quite the depth of what Mia saved Phoenix from — he doesn’t want to scare her — but she knows that Mia took nothing, gave Phoenix life that he wouldn’t have had.

But Mia was always one-of-a-kind, in every way.

And Phoenix—

He stares at the grimoire balanced on his legs. He’s no magician — but he can at least try to give something back.

Give back a soul, and to two kids, give back their mother.

Vera is released from the hospital in the morning and Phoenix sends Trucy off with twenty dollars to get her lunch — “Not Eldoon’s; she needs to go easy on the salt” — and bring it over to her house so that she isn’t left alone in it for the first time in her life. And this they have in common: Kristoph Gavin killed their fathers, and they escaped his claws to be left adrift.

(Phoenix has taken in two Kristoph-made strays and is gunning for two more.)

And Phoenix, having made a phone call early that morning, sits on the stoop of the office and waits for a taxi to pull up to the curb. Lamiroir — Thalassa — is either name truly hers? — isn’t using a cane, and he wonders how she has been getting along since Machi’s arrest. There wasn’t time enough with the jury for him to assess that, and Edgeworth, after Phoenix made the mistake of lending him the magatama, treated her like she was a quarantine zone.

“Good morning, Lamiroir,” he calls, rising to meet her and offering her his arm to guide her up the steps and into the office. He had forgotten to clean up the floor, but the job has been done for him - and all of the mess, Trucy’s textbooks and stage props and two stray pairs of shoes and a half-eaten bag of chips, has been piled onto Phoenix’s desk.

He deserves that, really.

“Mr Wright, if this is not, as you said, about the trial,” Lamiroir says, lowering herself onto the couch with regal poise that shames Phoenix into squaring his shoulders even though she can’t see him, “then what is it you wish of me?” She turns her face toward him. Her eyes don’t look empty. “This is not, is it, about me?”

“Yeah, it is,” Phoenix says. He leans against the arm of the couch for a moment. “How did you figure that?”

“It is…” She closes her eyes. Her fingers toy with the bracelet on her wrist, the match to Apollo’s. “Whenever we spoke, as the jury, you seemed expecting more of me. As though you knew more of me and what I am supposed to know. Something of the trial was supposed to speak to my memory?” She smiles sadly. “It did not.”

“I did hope it might jog something loose,” Phoenix says. “I do have more than that, now. I think — I think I can help you.”

Or hurt her. How much less painful must it be, to have forgotten?

The mitamah is locked in the bottom drawer of his desk, the one where he usually keeps his magatama (though more often now he just leaves it unlocked so Trucy can grab it if the need arises). It is still wrapped, like a gift, in Trucy’s scarf.

Lamiroir knows before he hands it to her — she gasps, her eyes going wide and their gray depths paling to blue. She reaches up and he puts her soul into her trembling hands.

It is lightning, instantaneous, and her next gasp turns into a shudder and a sob and she pulls the mitamah close to her, pressing it against her chest and curling in over herself. Phoenix sits on the couch, leaving space in between them, but moments later she fills it, her soul clasped in her hands and her head against his shoulder to sob. He doesn’t know how long they sit like that, no sound but her distress; it could have been an hour. For her, it must have been a lifetime.

“Where did you get it?” she asks. Her soft voice still bears her Borginian accent. Phoenix doesn’t know why he expected that to change. “From who?”

“Trucy and Apollo found it,” he says. “Magnifi left a map to ‘the source of his power’ to Zak, and Zak to Trucy.”

Thalassa sits back upright, blinking furiously; there are tear tracks glittering on her cheeks, but her appearance is incongruous with the broken, overwhelming sound of her sobs. She looks like an artistic idealized portrait of glamorous grief, and Phoenix is very sure he would see something very different if he had his magatama on him. “Oh Trucy, little Trucy.” She smiles sadly. “She must not be little any more. And Apollo — my Apollo — to find him again — to have them both—” Her chin sinks to her chest. “Do they know?” she asks. “Do they know that this is their mother’s soul they found?”

“They don’t know that they’re siblings, yet,” Phoenix says. Thalassa starts. Her eyes, Sighted-blue, turn accusingly toward him. “First I wasn’t sure if A — if they would believe me. Then you arrived, and I wanted you to know first. To have your memories, and to know…”

“To know it best for their sakes that I stay away,” she says.

That was not exactly how Phoenix was going to finish that sentence.

“Should I enter their lives to bring only grief?” she asks. “For I am a dead woman, am I not?”

“I don’t see any curse on you,” Phoenix says.

She tilts her head. Her eyes are still blue. “Yes, I can see your eyes,” she says, lifting her hand and touching her fingertips to the side of his face. “Your eyes, and the blessings and curses about you. I know so little of you, but I can See you were a favored tool of many of Them.” She lowers her hand to her lap and narrows her eyes. “And you learned from Them, to try and evade. I did not ask you if I am cursed. Perhaps you are used to death being a curse” — she lifts her hand again, not touching him this time, but hovering it near the base of his neck — “this necklace, this noose, you bear, but that is not all there is. You held my soul in your hands. Do not pretend not to know.”

Phoenix says nothing.

“You know I have the same blessing as my daughter’s eyes — you know I see Truth, too. So you did not lie to me. You avoided. I grew up in the twilight; I was a favorite tool, too. Answer me plainly: am I dead?”

He hasn’t looked at her with the Sight today; he doubted anything would have changed, and even then he hasn’t exactly wanted to look at her because makes his eyes sore. But he does now; he watches her light up. Teal diamonds mark her face around her eyes like a domino mask, like the same blessing from the same source as Trucy has, that of Truth, like Phoenix and Apollo also have Truth just a little differently. A roiling royal ocean glows beneath her skin, starlight through her hair. She looks like the robe she wears. She is ethereal, looks fae but for the hollow shape in her sternum of the missing mitamah, a dark space that seems to go in and in and eats up the light that makes her.

And that — no one could mistake her for anything but human, no matter how she glimmers and gleams, no matter the shine emanating from her, not with that glaring empty spot where her human soul should sit.

A soul is only visible when it’s gone.

There are lots of things in the world like that, Phoenix thinks.

Near her left collarbone, just above her heart, the bloody wound looks just as fresh as it must have been when the bullet shattered her a decade ago.

“Yes,” he says. “You are — or you should be.”

She touches her fingertips to the mark. She has likely not ever seen it — the Sight does not work in mirrors — but Phoenix has never seen that which Dahlia branded on him and he still feels where it lies on his own skin. “How strange,” she murmurs, “that it would save my life when he took my soul. And” — her voice is louder now, droll amusement — “how kind of my father to not shatter it when he died.”

“That would have been a pointless waste,” Phoenix says.

“Oh, but things were only valuable if they had use for him. When I had no more use, he discarded me and kept my soul. Perhaps he went soft in his old age — became generous enough to give me away.” She shakes her head. “Would that he had been that kind always, and given me away instead of murdering my first husband.”

Phoenix is lucky he wasn’t holding anything, because it would be on the floor now. As it is, his stomach has fallen through him, out of him, and his tongue into his throat. “He — he murdered—”

Thalassa blinks her eyes shut, slowly. “Oh, no one could prove it. Magnifi” — her face does not twist with the disgust in her voice, her serene, glamorous expression remaining carefully set as though marble — “Magnifi never laid a hand on my Jove, and he did not breathe forth the flames that left me with naught but ash and grief. But he laid the tinder. He laid the curse.”

Phoenix should say something. He really, really should say something.

He opens his mouth and a dry croak emerges.

Well, so much for that.

“You know curses.” Thalassa lays a hand over one of his. Her skin is cold and the chill seeps down into the joints of his fingers. “You live with death. You are blessed, fortunate. Someone saved you. There was no one to save him, the father of my son — we tried to run. We tried to run from the death that we carried with us. And surely you know how that story ends.”

He still can’t say anything but he turns his hand over and squeezes hers. “I tell you this because you know my children better than I do,” she says. “And you should know our family. What they come from. What they are freed from.”

Only to carry with them different kinds of death and grief. Old stories repeat themselves.

“Your first husband — was he human?”

She laughs and sounds surprised at herself, one of her hands coming up to cover her mouth, anything more than perfect dignity unacceptable to present. “You think Apollo isn’t?” she asks. Behind her hand, the corners of her mouth still show, still upturned.

Phoenix shrugs, then realizes she can’t see it. “No, but I also think it’s better to check, if I can trust someone to ask.”

She tilts her head to the side, assessing him. Perhaps it is the word trust that slows her. “Yes, Apollo is human; yes, Jove was human. I met him here, soon after Magnifi and I left the Realm. I had not stood in our mundane world since I was stolen away, you see - I had never tried to leave, never thought myself with something worth bargaining to escape my father. I was… I do not know how old I was when we left. Younger than Apollo is now, surely. A little older than Trucy?” She shakes her head. The light on her hair looks like sunlight instead of the cold fluorescence. “Stunted, just freed from being a child for too long. Jove showed me there was more to life than I had seen in my gilded twilight cage — that I was more.”

Her hand falls to her chest. Her smile fades like a falling feather, drifting slow, the distant wistful fondness thinning into pain she doesn’t hide. He can see the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth where her glamour breaks to make visible the little imperfections that make her more than a statue. “And after,” she says, her nails now digging into Phoenix’s skin, a different sensation than claws he has so often come to expect, “I went back. He killed my husband and I so knew who killed him and I went back.”

She withdraws her hands from his suddenly. “What must you think,” she asks, “that I went back?”

“I’m not going to condemn you,” Phoenix says. “I can’t. Not for being alone in the world and knowing little else, not when he’d stolen you and raised you in a world that wasn’t yours. I’m sorry.”

Does she allow her glamour to drop, or is it too hard to hold? Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are blotchy red, her eyes pink and puffy. “My name was not my own,” she says softly. “‘Gramarye’ is his, and he owned it, and I — what was I? We made a deal, on my return; my soul — my tired, grieving soul that I thought then useless — that he would never harm one I love. That he could never kill or take from me someone that I loved, ever again. And for that, he only gave to Trucy. I suppose she must have loved him, believed good of him.”

“She did,” Phoenix says.

A few more tears form damp on her cheeks. “I wanted to shelter her, but not for her to be deceived.” She picks up her mitamah, colored like a constellation chart, stars on a smooth sea, and presses it against her chest, like she can push it back into the hole it came from. “How did he die?”

��He shot himself.”

Her smile twists, ugly, warped, wet. “And that he could pull the trigger, then, he would know — I loved him then as much as he deserved.”

“I’m sorry,” Phoenix says. “You didn’t deserve that, any of that. And I’m sorry that you had to remember all of this pain.”

“You give me my light back — my children back. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done. And you must know magic in names — if not I, then who to know Jove’s name? I would not trade all that I have loved for the end to my grief.” She brushes some stray hairs back toward her braids. “And this grief I share with you, but if you will do one last thing for me, spare my children it.”

“It’s a little late for Trucy not to know,” Phoenix says. “Finding your soul in the pot at the end of the rainbow couldn’t mean much else.”

“Yet it does not tell the story of curses, and that, she does not have to know. Apollo does not have to know. And I, with nothing more than a severed soul — what worth have I do them?”

“You’re their mother,” Phoenix says. “The mother they don’t know. That’s — you don’t have to — to earn the right to see them.” His phrasing catches up to him a moment later. “Or to meet them, if not see—”

“What do you know of mitamahs?” She cuts across him with a flick of one finger, a motion so miniscule he doesn’t know if she notices she had done so. “I will not meet my children for them to mourn me — I will not meet them without reassurance that reuniting this body with this soul will not cause me to die as I should have, were they together those years ago.”

“You haven’t dropped dead yet,” Phoenix says. Definitely a good thing; there’s no easy way to get a body out of this office. “I think that’s a good sign.”

She taps the curved-over part of the mitamah against her collarbone, to the center of the lingering bloody wound. “You know nothing of soul magic, do you?”

“No.” She has him there. “I started looking through grimoires for something to help, last night. I have friends in the Court, as well — for you, I would ask if—”

“No!” Her rebuke hits a discordant screech. It lingers, jarring, in his ears, a few keys next to each other on the piano smashed all at once. “No. I do not think you naive, Phoenix Wright” — his name on her lips hits heavy, strengthened by her earlier comment about the magic of names, and her life grown up with the fae’s own name customs — “but you think Them friends? To call for the merest trifling inquiry—”

“The soul of the mother of my daughter is not a trifle, Thalassa—!” He hits back the best way he knows, and she jerks backward, one hand to her mouth, the other around her mitamah slipping loose. Then the corners of her mouth harden, the lines about them fade, and the tearful red runs out of her face like a cooling corpse. Defensively, she pulls her glamour back around herself.

He presses a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. But it’s not any mere inquiry, and I know by now how much magical assistance I can buy for the price of five dozen pizza rolls and getting kicked out of an all-you-can-eat sashimi bar.”

She tries her hardest not to smile. She does not succeed. “You speak of them with fondness,” she says softly. “You do love them?”

“Unwisely,” Phoenix says. “But I’ve been told most of the way I love is unwisely.”

Thalassa touches her fingertips to his arm. “That, I understand. But do not trouble yourself for this — they will not know.” She resumes tapping her mitamah against her skin. “The Winter Court lost the nuances of mitamah magic long ago; there is little more that they will tell you than the crude process of buying them. To know what happens when bringing them back together — I will assure you, they will not know.”

If he’s remembering correctly, and if Trucy didn’t raid them at midnight within the past three days, he has at least one box of pizza rolls in the freezer. He believes that Thalassa, having grown up in the Court, would know — but he still wants to check. For her sake, for Trucy’s sake, for Apollo’s. Maya is the Mystic Queen — maybe she knows more than anyone else, now.

And there is still one fact that Thalassa in her words sidestepped. “And the Summer Court?” Phoenix asks. “They would know?”

Thalassa grabs his hand with a force that turns her knuckles white, puts an icy chill back into his skin. “I have lost too much to them already, and for all the world, for my soul and life, I would not let you set foot in their halls. I would not chance my children losing another father between their teeth.” Her eyes are fixed on his. With her Sight, and without sight, she might just see them as suspended blue, and flecked through with the colors of Truth that Pearls gifted him, in the midst of nothingness. “You are not a firebird; you would not withstand the breath from their jaws.”

“They’ve gotta be far away from here, so I doubt I could afford the plane ticket, anyway.” Her hollow, intense eyes are starting to unnerve him. His own are starting to hurt. He glances away, lets the swirling colors of magic fade, and then looks back to her. She is still glamorous beyond human, but she is no longer starlight. “But — what will you do then? If you don’t think you can get your soul back — if you won’t introduce yourself to them—”

“Here, I will still stay — to live my unlife in this city I was first stolen from, as close to my children and you as I dare. And this…” She clasps her hands around Phoenix’s and turns his palms up to place her mitamah into his hands. It is cold. “I will not carry this forth with me. You I entrust with my soul, for you have in your care already that which is much more valuable: my hearts.”

Hey Howre you feeling today

-good!

Really?

-? -Pollyyyy -why would I lie

Because you CAN lie to me in text?

-bleh -fine -I’m feeling -better -at least -you want to interrogate me I’m at Vera’s -bring us food -low sodium

Because she’s….?

-yeah -that’s what Daddy said -he had stuff to do so he sent me off to hang out w her -someone to meet with too I think -maybe it’s a new mommy for me

[my notes on Thalassa]

#fic: the seelie of kurain #roddy fanfics #i refuse to update at any standard time. when i am done i am DONE i cannot and will not wait #anyway i hate how this chapter is so heavy and poetic and i worked on phrasing dialogue for ages #and my favorite line is STILL the fucking sashimi line. i hate myself.

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