Miles wasn't sure how he got to sleep every night. The books he read on traumatic incidents often told of recurring nightmares, but rarely did they mention the the nightmares would...differ so much from the actual event. The scream was much more easily written off, though it always woke him without fail. If his father was killed...he would have screamed, right? That didn't necessarily mean that it was his fault. The pistol at his feet was only a figment of his cruel imagination.

Even though he knew what to expect when he went to sleep, he knew his body required rest in order to carry on. Most nights he would go to bed only when he couldn't keep his eyes focused on his schoolbooks anymore. The new term had started not long ago, and he was already well on his way to becoming a prosecutor; the talk around him had predicted he would be prosecuting by age twenty. The quicker the better, he reasoned with himself. Perhaps if he could proceed with putting all those criminals away, he could atone.

But had he sinned at all? The question burned at him nearly every day. How would he ever know...?

( Read more... )

Franziska von Karma was staring obstinately at the shelves of crime novels at the bookshop, occasionally taking a book down and skimming its blurb before placing it back on the shelf. These books were all the same, honestly, consisting of bumbling fools of characters who should never be allowed anywhere near a courtroom. Not only did they fail to make completely obvious logical connections, Franziska had no idea how they managed to make such a prestigious profession seem so…boring.

She knelt down, placing a murder mystery about an unidentified body hidden in a burlap sack at the bottom of a ditch back on the shelf. Nothing even remotely interesting there; she wouldn’t even be able to derive amusement from such a shoddily written story as this.

Her real reason for coming to the shop today was not to look at crime novels, however, but the longer she spent dallying in front of those shelves, the less determined she felt to look at the section she had come here today to visit – the romance novels were several aisles away, and Franziska was beginning to wonder why she hadn’t just walked over there already. It was because she wasn’t interested in that sort of thing, she reminded herself; those type of books were for fools who had no idea how life worked in the real world, and had the time to waste reading such trash. Franziska von Karma’s time was too precious to waste on such a pathetic excuse for literature, so why was she even here? She bit her lip, skimming the titles of the crime novels again. She was here to buy some books, of course; she’d left the majority of her collection back in Germany, and she needed something to do in the evenings, if only to avoid conversations like the one with Maya Fey yesterday afternoon.

Franziska wasn’t going to be scared off, however – even though she had no reason to be looking at such trash, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t, did it? It wasn’t like her to be scared of anything, let alone words on a page. With newfound determination, Franziska decided to at least check out the ‘female literature’ section, whatever that meant; she could reach her eventual goal through a series of logical steps, just like always. She tore her gaze away from the rows of crime novels, one hand on her hip and the other firmly on her whip.

( Read more... )

Kristoph's week had been a rather dead one, all things considered; the flow of cases and consultations at Gavin Law Offices had more or less ground to a halt by Thursday evening, and outside of work the apartment had begun to take on a feeling that was closer to stifling than relaxing. The general ambience - whether it was all of the silence or the lack thereof - was beginning to grate on his nerves; everything seemed to be bound and determined to provide an unending source of irritation, and though he was certain of his ability to entertain himself under most circumstances, he had to admit that he wasn't immune to the desire for decent conversation once in a while.

Bluntly put, Kristoph Gavin was bored, and the idea of spending the weekend caught in a similar pattern was not looking appealing in the least.

Under normal circumstances, Kristoph tended to dislike seeking out the company of others; there was always something that felt oddly desperate about the notion of purposely calling someone up and asking for their time, though when Kristoph considered it long enough, he couldn't exactly be sure why that was the case. His mind turned first to a few of the members of the ethics committee; he had been accepted among their ranks recently, and at the very least he didn't seem to be disliked, though at the same time the first ones to come to mind were painfully dry. He had seen the majority of them earlier in the week, at that meeting he had managed to be on time for despite the distraction that had occurred immediately before -

It was then that the option occurred to him; after a moment's deliberation, he found himself looking through that silver case, seeking out a particular business card that, when he had received it, he had been so certain he would have no need to utilize.

The discussion with Phoenix Wright had been brief and slightly awkward, though the invitation had been simple - dinner the next evening, at a restaurant Wright seemed unacquainted with, if his questions afterwards had been any indicator. The conversation was easier after the invitation was out there, and easier still after it had been accepted; though he had kept the majority of his amusement out of his tone when Wright had asked if there was a particular dress code to be adhered to at the restaurant, he could feel himself smirk slightly as he told Wright to bring a jacket.

( Read more... )

It was almost two months to the day that Sister Iris had been acquitted of murder, and Maya Fey had been officially rescued.

It had taken a long time for Maya to truly come to grips with everything that had happened. Whenever she had felt a pang of sorrow of the loss of her mother or for Pearl, who hadn't meant to do any harm, she had instead focused on her gratitude to the people that had helped save her. Living back in Los Angeles had done her a world of good when it came to the healing process, but the weight of what she had gone through still pulled her down from time to time.

But who was left to thank? Of course Phoenix had known the depth of her gratitude, and with Edgeworth living with them, she'd been able to express her thankfulness in the form of Steel Samurai marathons. That only left...

Franziska von Karma and Diego Armando.

( Read more... )

Pearl bounced a little bit on the balls of her feet as she always did when she was really excited. Mystic Maya hadn't really been very specific about what she wanted to do today aside from go for ice cream, but Pearl wasn't really going to complain too much. It had been a while since the two of them had been able to go out and talk just the two of them. Pearl usually spent a lot of time trying to give Mystic Maya and Mr. Nick as much time as possible alone together and sometimes that meant she had to miss out on time with them. But that was okay. Pearl was certain Mr. Nick was taking care of her cousin.

So she waited for Mystic Maya, wondering if they were going to go out or stay at home and watch the Steel Samurai while they ate ice cream. Either way, she'd be happy and maybe if they did watch the Steel Samurai, Pearl could show off some of her knowledge of the series. This was rather impressive in the long run considering how small a timeframe she'd been watching the show in the first place.

( Ice cream is the best distraction for a difficult discussion. )

It was a rare event for Edgeworth to sleep on a flight, but the general deprivation of restful slumber in Germany had apparently swayed him into breaking the characteristic. Though he felt significantly more rested, the uncomfortable ache in his joints reminded him he could have picked a more comfortable position. Cracking his neck for the third time since he'd awoken, Edgeworth refocused his attention out the window of the cab. The taxi ride from LAX to Phoenix's apartment was a costly one, but it was a price he didn't mind paying. The idea of leaving his car unattended in the airport parking garage was something that nightmares were made of, and Edgeworth wasn't about to let his car be keyed, broken into, or otherwise tarnished.

He could only pray that those passing in and out of the parking lot of Phoenix's apartment complex had been kind to his vehicle.

The landscape became more familiar as they neared their destination, and the prosecutor couldn't help but feel a slight thrill at returning. As unspectacular as Phoenix's apartment was - aesthetically speaking - the warmth of those living there had become something of an attraction to Edgeworth, to say nothing of his romantic inclinations with the apartment's owner.

The times he had given Phoenix for his return appeared to be fairly apt, though he was arriving at the later end of the predetermined spectrum. By the time the cab had pulled up to the curb, Edgeworth had already procured the money he would need to pay the man and had put his wallet away - not that he was eager to be home or anything.

( Read more... )

Vera was sketching with charcoal, her hand flying over the page fast and wild, uncontrolled and exhilarating, when a noise broke her concentration. Had the door opened? She frowned, brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, and lifted her hand again. Now, where had she been? The trouble with originals was that there wasn't anything to work from, except real life. Real life didn't come with predefined brushstrokes and colors she never would have thought her own skin could show, except there they were, in oil and acrylic.
( Read more... )

The cake was starting to go stale.

It had been six days since Franziska had visited Just Desserts and run into Pearl Fey, and six days since she had bought herself a chocolate cake for her birthday. Her birthday had come and gone now and it seemed she had overestimated her capabilities as there was still a quarter of the cake remaining. She simply couldn’t eat any more of it, and nor did she have the inclination too – the rich taste of the chocolate had disappeared, and it had started to go dry and crumbly in her mouth.

The perfect solution, Franziska realised, was to bring the cake to work. She had to do so today, as she was leaving for Germany tomorrow and who knew what state the cake would be by the time she returned? The only other option was to throw it out, but that would be wasteful and Franziska von Karma wasn’t wasteful.

( Read more... )

Franziska had finally contacted her sister late on Friday night, but Elisabeth had merely reiterated her intentions of moving to the estate at the end of the year, after ensuring that Franziska didn’t want to live there herself. It was for the best that Franziska was staying in America, Elisabeth had decided, because after Franziska had ‘run off to the States’, Elisabeth had dismissed most of the estate’s servants and gardeners and had plans to employ entirely new staff.

It was fortunate that Elisabeth was currently on the other side of the country, because as furious Franziska was that her sister was interfering with her property, she wasn’t going to waste her time travelling to visit Elisabeth to tell her so. That was what telephones were for, after all.

Elisabeth had told Franziska to look at it as a favour. Franziska had hung up the phone.

( Read more... )

It was 3:15 PM on March 28th, 2019; a Thursday. The Detention Center was relatively quiet - it was close to the end of visitation hours, and most had vacated the premises.

In truth, Phoenix felt he shouldn't be present. He had finished meeting with Ms. Bokew, and he still had work to do at the crime scene. Drawing the trial out to two days hadn't been difficult, but the fact that he needed to be pounding the pavement versus lingering around the Detention Center was in the back of his mind. However, Franziska's words had stuck in the back of Phoenix's mind; Iris was alone, with no one to talk to - and while he was reluctant to do so and he could be somewhere else, he felt that this was as good of a moment as any. The chair creaked underneath his weight as he leaned back in it, and Phoenix heaved a sigh, lifting his hands and rubbing his fingers against his temples as he closed his eyes.

( Read more... )