#I guess in this AU she’d be Trucy Edgeworth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tfwlawyers · 3 years ago

Note

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

#bluefaewren #replies #parent trap au #attempting to write tag

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mikumutual · 5 years ago

Text

answers aa themed questions nobody asked because i’m cool and sexy

also i havent played the 5th or 6th games so

YOUR FAVOURITE…? 1. Favourite Ace Attorney game? honestly? phoenix wright ace attorney! everything’s fresh, there aren’t many weak characters, and the plot is remarkable (especially the fifth case). the whole trilogy is really good as one unit though 2. Favourite case? 1-4, 1-5, 2-4, and 3-5 are tied lol, i can’t make a decision to save my life. 2-1 is really really funny tho 3. Favourite defendant? as a defendant, lana skye. as a person, edgeworth 4. Favourite prosecutor? as a prosecutor, franziska von karma. as a person, edgeworth 5. Favourite ship? wrightworth obviously... ive probably put more thought into them over the last 3 years than any other ship 6. Favourite victim? probably mia fey or gregory edgeworth... but for non-relevant victims, neil marshall :( 7. Favourite murderer? shelly de killer, i LOVE that guy. but dee vasquez was very cool as well 8. Favourite assistant? maya fey!!!!!!!!!! but i like kay faraday a lot too (im so sorry ema) 9. Favourite witness? adrian andrews... or maybe iris? i mean i didn’t like iris but god what a person 10. Favourite quote? “It doesn't matter how many underhanded tricks a person uses... The truth will always find a way to make itself known. The only thing we can do is to fight with the knowledge we hold and everything we have. Erasing the paradoxes one by one... It's never easy... We claw and scratch for every inch. But we will always eventually reach that one single truth. This I promise you.” - Miles Edgeworth i made this one of my senior quotes :]

YOUR LEAST FAVOURITE…? 11. Least favourite Ace Attorney game? uh fucking apollo justice. literally what the hell was that 12. Least favourite case? turnabout visitor wasn’t very strong? i guess it’s fine as an intro, but it’s also wonky with the timeline of aai 13. Least favourite defendant? max galactica. he’s better in the anime though 14. Least favourite prosecutor? manfred von karma, obviously. i like every other prosecutor (who i know of) though, even winston payne is pretty funny in hindsight 15. Least favourite ship? “miles edgeworth/female oc”. there are a lot of bad ships though, mostly involving phoenix & his assistants. dont do that please 16. Least favourite victim? zak gramarye for kickstarting that shitty, shitty game 17. Least favourite murderer? again mvk... but also fucking frank sahwit LMAO 18. Least favourite assistant? i guess trucy 19. Least favourite witness? fuck everyone from turnabout big top unless it was the anime episode 20. Least favourite memory of Ace Attorney? repeatedly trying and failing to download the emulator for aai2 hbjsjhdb i eventually got it but someone had to send me the download fully pre-patched and i felt kinda useless DO YOU PREFER…? 21. Phoenix Wright or Apollo Justice? phoenix wright. fuck that “GOTCHA!” mechanic jesus christ 22. Maya Fey or Trucy Wright? maya fey. nothing personal against trucy but i just dont like aj hbjsdjhsdb also maya is really sweet and fun and she has the best sprites. she seems like she’d be a good friend, it’s too bad that she doesn’t have the time for them as a spirit medium and all :( if maya ema and kay got to hang out together itd be wild 23. Investigations or trials? trials are easier in my opinion because investigations have several things you could be doing without such a linear style, so if you miss something, you won’t really know until you wander around forever 24. College Phoenix or Hobo Phoenix? college feenie!!!!! he’s like trilogy feenie but more emotional and less witty. i like to pretend that hobo phoenix doesnt exist 25. Klavier Gavin or Kristoph Gavin? who would say kristoph 26. Ace Attorney or Ace Attorney Investigations? ace attorney but only because phoenix is in it lmao. im actually rewatching a playthrough of aai now, and playing aai2 at the same time, so while it is on the mind, i feel like the cases characters and mechanics - while loved - don’t hold up to the OGs 27. Apollo’s perceive, Phoenix’s magatama, or Athena’s Mood Matrix? i actually kinda like the mood matrix more than anything because it has a really good UI and the magatama is kinda grating. but FUCK the gotcha mechanic it is SO FUCKING STUPID and IMPOSSIBLE TO USE. where is logic chess 28. Ace Attorney trilogy or Apollo Justice and Dual Destinies? you already know my answer to this one 29. 3D models or sprites? i do like the 3d models a lot but i like the original sprites more! imo original pixel sprites > 3D models > HD sprites. mostly bc the hd sprites are garbage (see here, here, and here) 30. Ema Skye as she is in Rise from the Ashes or Ema Skye as she is in Apollo Justice? rfta !!!!!! shes actually really nice as an assistant, esp considering the fact that we actually see her interact with her sister, which is something maya didn’t have very often. also her random appearance in aai was well appreciated by me

MISCELLANEOUS 31. Did you like what they did to Phoenix in Apollo Justice?

NO I AM SO FUCKING MAD WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT TO HIM ISN’T HE A LAWYER WHY COULD HE NOT JUST DEFEND HIMSELF FROM THE FACT THAT HE “FORGED EVIDENCE” IT WASN’T EVEN HIS IN THE FIRST PLACE SOMEBODY ELSE FORGED IT AND HE DIDN’T KNOW THAT, MANFRED VON KARMA GOT AWAY WITH A FUCKLOAD OF NONSENSE AND SO DOES EVERY OTHER LAWYER SO WHY IS IT THAT PHOENIX CAN SURVIVE EATING A POISONED GLASS NECKLACE AND GETTING HIT OVER THE HEAD WITH A FIRE EXTINGUISHER AND FALLING FROM A BURNING BRIDGE INTO A RUSHING RAVINE AND BEING HIT BY A CAR BUT HE CAN’T FUCKING DEFEND HIMSELF LIKE HE DOES IN EVERY OTHER CASE BECAUSE THAT’S THE POINT OF THE GAME AND ALSO HIS ENTIRE CHARACTER

32. Your opinion on Dai Gyakuten Saiban? haven’t played it! it looks pretty cool though

33. Do you think Dai Gyakuten Saiban and/or Miles Edgeworth Investigations 2 will get localised to the West? doubt it, since the creators have said that it won’t be. but the fan translations are pretty good, so i think it’s okay

34. Do you think Miles Edgeworth should get another Investigation-game or do you think another character deserves a spin-off? i mean he already has two, so i guess he doesn’t need another? like i love edgeworth but he’s not as fun without phoenix around. ngl i would play a franziska game. or a maya game, or any spinoff revolving around a side character. hell i’d play hotti game if it meant it took place in the trilogy era

35. Opinion on the soundtrack of the Ace Attorney-franchise? REALLY good. really really good. i love how each game of the trilogy has different composers but each track has the same theme and feel!!!

36. Do you like where the franchise is heading or did you prefer the atmosphere in the original trilogy? seriously absolutely completely prefer the trilogy. i’m sorry but the rush of youth and trust is way, way more enjoyable than whatever “i’m 35 and therefore middle aged” nonsense is happening in the 2020s

37. Capcom suddenly announces that Phoenix will no longer appear in the Ace Attorney franchise! Your reaction? He’s been replaced by Penny Nichols. Fuck you.

38. Capcom suddenly announces that the Ace Attorney franchise has ended for good! Your reaction? it was me i ended it

39. Would you like there to be another Ace Attorney/Professor Layton crossover game? i didnt play it but i really like the idea!!!!!! aa crossover games are really funny to me, i mean have you seen edgeworth in project x zone 2, lmao

40. Would you like an Ace Attorney anime? we have one now! honestly i don’t think it did a very good job of representing the cases, but it did do a good character remix of turnabout big top so that they’re not creepy anymore. they also did a really good job with the anime-specific cases, like the one on the train! it feels a lot better paced when it’s intended for that medium rather than just adapted. also the childhood episodes made me cry

41. Opinion on anime cutscenes in Ace Attorney? like in 5 and 6? mm, the art style is kinda weird, and i don’t really like the voices, but i guess not everything can be pachinko and prozd

42. Would you want to play an Ace Attorney game where you take on the prosecutor’s role? YEAH ACTUALLY!!!!!! it might be kinda weird being on the right side of the screen though lmao

43. Do you like having DLC in Ace Attorney-games? uhhh i hate having to buy extra things, but i’ll admit that they are pretty funny

44. Opinion on Lamiroir’s storyline? i only played aj so if shes in other games idk but i thought she was fine

45. One thing you think the Ace Attorney games can improve on? stop having creepy characters please. also jesus christ if phoenix and edgeworth arent wearing rings in aa7 i will become the ceo of capcom myself

46. Capcom suddenly announces an Ace Attorney movie! Would you like it to be based on an already existing case or would you like an all new storyline? i mean the musical did a pretty good job of adapting existing cases, so it might as well be new. it would be kinda hard to balance the games’ timeline & character development without being repetitive or an au

47. Capcom suddenly announces an Ace Attorney movie! Would you prefer it being live-action, 3D animated or 2D animated? stylized 2D animation, probably? i would want it to feel more like into the spiderverse than an anime, though. in my dream ace attorney movie, they’d just need a high art budget, several plausible deniability wrightworth scenes, and prozd to voice edgeworth

48. If there could be an Ace Attorney crossover with whatever franchise you’d like, which one would you choose? (Does not need to be a video-game franchise) your turn to die is probably closest in characterization, although its premise is more “locked in a room” than the open-world investigation of aa

49. Opinion on recurring witnesses? (Wendy Oldbag, Lotta Hart, Larry Butz, etc.) honestly, i like them a lot! i don’t know why people hate them so much - i mean, i know lotta lied, and wendy is a horrible old flirt, and larry just kinda sucks all around. but they’re also pretty funny to have around! larry is a constant comic relief who reminds you how much better nick & edgey are in comparison, lotta is likeable as a general character (like in 2-4, although yeah, not remarkable), and wendy oldbag is really funny. she’s so fucking funny. none of you appreciate wendy oldbag’s quirks and you are SLEEPING ON IT!!!!!!!!!!!!

50. Do you think Dual Destinies deserved its M-rating? no idea, holy shit, it got an m-rating? i mean every game before it has had blood violence and very mild swearing, and since DD probably doesnt have anything too sexually risqué, i doubt it deserves a rating any harsher than the rest of the series

okay thanks thats all

#this was fun hbjsdsdj #yea i love the trilogy #also my theme makes all everything lowercase for some reason? so this is probably easier to read on mobile #ace attorney

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 6 years ago

Text

the thinker

A Fae AU side story. Phoenix and Larry, and an ever-present absence: reminiscing, and looking ahead.

[ao3]

“—and I mean, some of my old temp jobs I didn’t even get fired from, so I can totally hit up those guys and throw you their way.”

Phoenix draws a new card from the deck and frowns at it. Larry won’t play him in poker, not since high school, so all the card games they played through their early 20s didn’t involve acting. (Larry has the worst poker face.) And even then, Phoenix still won most of them, which he knows now is Luck, but lately Luck has been tangling with Misfortune and doesn’t have time to let Phoenix have a good hand of cards in games that don’t mean anything. He’s lost most of tonight’s games and wants to blame it on the fact that he’s drinking, but Larry is also drinking, and in fact has had more beers than Phoenix, so he’s just lying to himself now. Midnight is one of the best times for lying to himself, though he’s usually alone when he does it.

“Yeah,” he says, discarding his new card, “but they’re still gonna throw out the application when they see my name on it.” The Gramaryes were local celebrities, and the forgery scandal much bigger than that. Phoenix’s name is a black mark. Larry wouldn’t know how that is; Larry has a second name now, granting him Fortune, and maybe Butz is an unfortunate surname but it’s not Phoenix Wright, the corrupt attorney too clumsy to get away with it. “The poker thing is going fine, really.”

“Yeah but you’ve got a daughter now, Nick! You can’t just put her on the bachelor ramen diet too! Your savings are gonna run out sooner or later!” Larry, flighty, irresponsible Larry, is now the voice of reason, god forbid. He only now seems to realize that Phoenix has taken his turn and he draws a card, his eyes lighting up in further proof of the way he can’t play poker. “Very fortuitous,” he says, leaning over the cards played on the table and planning his move.

Phoenix sighs and flops back into the couch. He’ll be waiting a while. “Look at you and your vocab of the day calendar,” he says.

“Hey!” Larry points an objecting finger at him. “I am a writer, Nick! Words are my specialty!”

“A writer of children’s books—!”

Loud as they are, Phoenix only hears half of the sound from the next room over, the tail-end of the time: “—is twelve o’clock.”

Larry’s head jerks up. “What was that?” he asks.

“Mia,” Phoenix says. He told Larry all about Mia and her presence in the office not long after Elise died; he hasn’t told Edgeworth, because he thinks of Edgeworth as separate from all of the fae aspects of his life. Trucy and Larry jump the line, now, but even though Edgeworth has met Maya, Pearl, and Iris, been wrapped up nearly as much as Larry (except for Larry being a witch, briefly), Phoenix still keeps more of it from him. He’s sure Edgeworth wouldn’t appreciate it, if he knew, but that’s another day’s problem. “You gonna finish your turn?”

It’s a lull in the conversation the next time it happens; Phoenix is pondering over the least bad move he can make when the voice rings out, “I think the time is twelve-fifteen.”

“Wait,” Larry says, folding his cards together and setting them face-down on the coffee table. “Wait wait, that’s—”

“Your clock,” Phoenix says. “Yeah.” The dumbfounded expression on Larry’s face doesn’t go away and he turns the stare from the room the sound emanated from to Phoenix. He’s going to have to explain this one the full way, as much as he knows to explain. “Here, c’mon.” He puts his cards down and stands, going to the doorway to the back room. The lights are off but some of the city lights filter through the slats of blinds. (There’s about as much light as there was the night Mia died.) It’s enough to make out, on his desk, the shape of the foot-tall gray clock. He gives Larry a few seconds to take in the sight and then flips on the light switch. The room brightens immediately, and there is nothing on Phoenix’s desk.

“Okay that’s fucked,” Larry says. “What’s that about?”

“Mia harasses me with it if she thinks I’m staying too late,” Phoenix explains. “She’ll start at fifteen-minute intervals and then drop to ten or five if I really don’t take the hint.”

“Yeah,” Larry says, “but the clock’s kinda not there, Nick.”

“It should be solved case evidence buried in the seventh circle of the police department now,” Phoenix agrees. He turns the light off. It now sits in the strips of light cast through the window, and he could swear he sees blood on it and immediately flicks the lights back on. “But this is Mia, and fae magic, so it’s here enough to torment me. And, by the way, Mia,” he adds, raising his voice, even though he knows she can hear anything said in the office anyway, “Trucy’s at a friend’s sleepover right now, so it’s not like I’m leaving her at home alone. You can relax.”

Or maybe she wants him to get a healthy amount of sleep but he’s far past the point of no return on that for the rest of his life.

“But why…” Larry gestures helplessly into the room. “Why that?” he asks after a few more moments of sputtering for words. “Like, she could do anything to hassle you, like make the mirror bleed or throw books at you or break the lightbulbs or make the walls ooze—”

“—green slime,” Phoenix finishes in unison with him, and they both laugh. But Larry’s face quickly falls and he looks back in at Phoenix’s desk. He hasn’t asked the full question: why the clock I made, why the clock I gave her?

“And wasn’t that…” Larry’s hand twitches, its trajectory going towards his head, as though to mimic the location of the wound, the blood on Mia’s head as her body grew colder. He pulls his hand down before it gets there. “Y’know?”

The murder weapon?

Funny, for her to be so powerful, taken down so easily. She shouldn’t have been. (Maybe if not for Phoenix, she wouldn’t have been. Did she have to give up part of her own life to save him from Dahlia? Did Phoenix kill her? Godot eventually acquiesced that he’d made that accusation in pain and anger but Phoenix had asked himself the same long before then. Phoenix still asks himself that.)

“Yeah,” Phoenix says again. “It was. But she really liked it, you know?” Larry shakes his head. “It meant something, I think, especially to the fae. Since they so rarely give gifts – which I guess that wasn’t quite a gift because we defended you and you didn’t pay me – and they love artists a little too much sometimes…” He shrugs. He’s thought about it a lot over the years and the late nights.

“You’re still mad about that?” Larry asks, starting back for the couch.

Phoenix turns the lights out and doesn’t look back. “You paid Edgeworth back for stealing his lunch money! What, do I have to wait fifteen years for you to pay your legal fees?”

Larry snaps his fingers together. “Now you do!”

Phoenix snorts.

The grin falls from Larry’s face. “That just kinda makes me feel worse,” he says. “If she liked it so much, and then…” His hand twitches again, reaching for a wound never present on his own head.

Phoenix isn’t sure how to respond to that. He just keeps talking anyway, hoping his words won’t cut at his own heart. “She wouldn’t harass me with it if she was soured on it from that,” he says. Her death. From her death. “She really did appreciate it. That… that someone would give her something made with their own hands, all the work and time put into it – I mean, the fae go both ways, the deadly grudges for petty things, but little favors end up meaning the world. And she…” He closes his eyes, now regretting saying this much. “Even if you just gave it to her because she’s pretty—”

“Hey!”

“—it really did mean a lot to her.”

Larry stares down at his hands. “Back – back with Elise,” he says quietly, uncomfortably quietly for Larry, “I gave her some of my paintings. Like Christmas, the only Christmas of course, just the one, and then she had me do portfolio pieces and hung onto some of those, and a couple others I just gave her and…”

He trails off.

“But those were – I mean, she was teaching me how to paint, so of course I’d – she’d expect of course—”

It wasn’t even been half a year that Larry was her student (and a witch). When Phoenix had asked him, after, after the dust had settled as much as it could yet, Larry said it was part of his attempts to turn his life back around after being fired as a security guard. October to February. Four months. (He said it felt longer and sometimes Phoenix wonders if he wasn’t just saying that but slipped into the Twilight Realm for parts of it. It could be either. They’ll never know.)

But he’d loved her as a mentor enough that when he mentions her, the smile still cracks off his face.

“No, I’m sure it meant that much to her, too,” Phoenix says softly.

Larry’s shoulders slump. He picks up his beer. “I think sometimes I don’t even know what she looked like,” he says. “What she really did, beneath the glamour. Or that – I mean, how little did I know her that I didn’t realize she wasn’t human until you told me? Been a year and I just—” He takes a long draught and then stares sadly at the empty bottle in his hand.

Somehow they just end up here, even when not meaning to, once the sun goes down and the city lights are all they have against the endless black sky. “Sometimes, with the stupid clock,” Phoenix says, looking not at Larry but at their abandoned game, “I’m busy working and then I swear it’s Mia’s voice telling me the time. That it’s not just her hitting the thing and it’s weird voice going, but it’s her. She’s talking to me.” He’s out of beer, too. He shouldn’t have another. “And then I sit there attentively waiting and waiting and then the next time it goes off, it’s just the clock’s voice.”

Larry’s bottle taps against the coffee table. “This is why you won’t take Edgy up on his offer for you to come live in Europe, huh?”

Phoenix looks up. “You know about that?”

“Don’t sound surprised! He and I talk sometimes! And sometimes we worry about you, because you’re an idiot!”

Being called an idiot by Larry, god forbid. Two fae, Elise and Kristoph, Fortune and Misfortune, one to Larry, one to Phoenix, and the world turned on its head.

“Not to uh, insult you too much, and definitely no offense to Miss Mia Fey” – Larry holds up his empty bottle like he’s toasting the office – “who’s a wonderful lady who has saved our asses many a time, but Nick, you’re like, married – figuratively, like Edgy’s married to his work – married to a ghost.”

“This is the last time I try to empathize with you about grief,” Phoenix grumbles.

“Dude, I said no offense!”

“To Mia. You wanted to insult me a little.” Phoenix shakes his head. “I mean, bold words about living for the dead from Laurice Deauxnim.”

“Nick,” Larry says bitterly. They’re getting close to yelling at each other again, a way they’ve only done a few times. “That’s different. A name I get to carry with me is different than burying myself in an office I can’t use because I’m not a lawyer anymore and have no talents other than winning poker games, and you do that at a place that isn’t your office!”

“Right,” Phoenix says. “So I’m just supposed to leave Mia behind, that’s it?”

“You think she can’t go with you?”

“I don’t know.” There’s so much he doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know how she’s stayed here. It doesn’t make sense with any kind of magic Maya knows, just like the way their mother allegedly spoke to the dead Gregory Edgeworth also doesn’t make any sense. And magic doesn’t have the strictest rules, especially not for the royals, but it has limitations and they thought death was it. None of it makes sense and Phoenix is afraid if he questions it the spell will break. “I’d think she would have given me a sign if she could. She can probably move on, but…”

But then she’d be gone. She’d be gone and would the blessing blanketing the office go with her? Phoenix has watched, over the past year, a pale green mist slowly affix itself to Trucy and darken, looking like the way Maya described the blessing that surrounds Phoenix. Could that blessing, could Mia’s remaining presence, move with him, if he went to Europe with Edgeworth? He can’t take the chance, not with Death written on his chest, not when he could be forsaking the best chance Trucy has to survive him. He can’t gamble on Trucy’s life. She doesn’t deserve to have been caught up in this. The very least she deserves is the assurance of Mia’s protection.

Larry sighs and shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know Mia meant – means – a lot to you – like I keep comparing her in my head to me and Elise but I know it’s way more than that – but also, dude, I hate seeing you like this. I feel like I’m watching you become a ghost.”

He can’t muster up anger anymore, not if Larry’s saying that, not when he’s thought the same, not when he less and less feels like picking up a razor and more and more feels surprised by how tired the face in the mirror looks. “I might take Edgeworth up on the offer for short trips, at some point,” he says, knowing that he’s avoiding Larry’s main point because he has no evidence to refute it. “Once Trucy’s more settled in here so that she’s not totally thrown when I drag her off to Europe for a couple weeks.” And once he’s in a more secure place with Kristoph, that he can figure out what excuse to make for disappear. “I know I’m not gonna be able to show her the world, so hey, if Edgeworth’s buying the plane tickets…”

Larry laughs hollowly. “Guess that’s a start.” He glances to his beer bottle and again appears surprised that it’s already empty. “Like I’m worried about your finances for the kid’s sake but shit, dude, I’d be worried as hell about your sake if you didn’t have her around.”

“She’s a good kid,” Phoenix says.

“And she’s someone you can’t push away.” Larry raises an eyebrow at Phoenix’s surprised look. “What, you think I don’t notice you do that? Like in cycles, after Edgy, uh, disappeared, and then after you lost your badge, and I think some times in between but those are the big ones, you just try and like, be more of a dick and stop talking so we’ll hate you and stop checking in on you. It’s not gonna work by the way, I’ve figured you out.”

“Surprisingly perceptive,” Phoenix says. It’s probably harsher than he meant it.

“I’m a writer,” Larry says. “I’ve gotta figure out empathizing with people if I want to write good characters!”

“You write children’s books.”

“And you’ve only been reading bad children’s literature with your daughter, apparently. I’ll get you my list of recommendations.”

“Will that consist solely of yours and Elise’s books?”

“Not solely.” Larry does not have the audacity to look ashamed. “But in large part.”

Phoenix snorts.

“You can stop doing that, y’know,” Larry adds. “You could like, talk to people. I’m sure Edgy can help with this badge thing. He’s already been looking into the littler Gavin.”

Larry apparently really does talk to Edgeworth, if he knows that. Phoenix frowns. “I told him to stop doing that.”

“He’s worries about you, dude, what can I say? And you’re not giving any hints on what you think happened with that evidence.”

“That’s the idea,” Phoenix says.

“Yeah, see, the pushing thing, like this, you do.” Larry sinks back into the couch. “Could you not?”

“No,” Phoenix says.

“I am gonna hit you with this bottle.”

“You try that.”

Larry pantomimes swinging it like a baseball bat. Phoenix wonders if that’s the most effective way to use a beer bottle as a weapon. “I’m gonna. Try and push me away now, motherfucker, I’ve got a – isn’t there a word for when you break off the bottom of the bottle and make it sharp? Like a shiv but a bottle, or wait, a shank is the makeshift one—?”

“That’s not children’s book vocabulary,” Phoenix says. Larry is still looking at him, somewhere between smug and determined, and Phoenix adds bitterly, “You want to know what’s nice about Mia compared to the rest of you?” He fan watch Larry’s expression collapse from mock anger to real pain. “At least her, I can’t get her killed again.”

“Yo, Nick, seriously, this is why we worry about you.” And it’s concern settled firmly now across Larry’s features. “‘Cause you say things like you don’t realize how fucked up they are.”

Phoenix rubs his hand across his eyes. Spoken stupid in exhaustion and frustration, and now he’s paying for it. “And forget I said that.”

“I will not.”

“I think the time is twelve-thirty.”

It’s still the clock’s voice.

“I guess Mia does really want us to have good sleeping habits,” Phoenix says.

“Probably mostly you,” Larry says. “Like once you’re saying things like this, the existential guilt and dread o’clock, that’s when I like to sleep for about a year.”

“We’ve still got a game to finish, at least,” Phoenix says. He glances over the cards. A game for him to lose, more like.

“Yo, yeah,” Larry says. “I was kicking your ass, right, because I’m also right in our arguments and I’m winning overall and that means that you need to talk to people more.” He picks up his hand of cards and surveys the table again.

“Then I’m gonna say right now we’re doing best seven out of nine,” Phoenix says. He’s been kicking the number up all night. Larry laughs.

“I think the time is twelve-thirty-one.”

“Duly noted, Chief.”

#i wrote this from 11:30 pm to 2 am last night and it was worth the loss of sleep time #fae au extras #roddy fanfics #fic: the seelie of kurain #fae au tag #me posting this story is just me staring Wolf directly in the eyes for the last few chapters of the Warriors fic

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