#at BEST Manfred just ignored them & was hardly ever around
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You don't end up with kids that have as many issues as Edgeworth and Franziska do by being a good parent.
(the poll is just a decoration i just want to read manfred discourse)
#do i think he caned them every night? no.#but Investigations shows us clearly how he treated them in a flashback#he outright calls Edgeworth worthless with 0% provocation#(and in response to Edgeworth wanting to be like him)#and also makes it clear (to the audience) that his interest in Edgeworth stops at wanting#to make Edgeworth a feared prosecutor to spite Gregory#meanwhile Franziska has to chase him across the globe and clamor for his attn#and even when she asks if he'll watch her court debut he dismisses her w/ a ''maybe''#at BEST Manfred just ignored them & was hardly ever around#which is still emotional neglect & explains so many of their issues (esp Franziska)#but even when he was around he plainly ignored his daughter & only had interest in Edgeworth#insofar as his prosecutorial career.#it says a lot that Manfred is PUT TO DEATH and Franziska just dgaf as far as we see in JFA#she LAUGHS at the suggestion that her revenge is for his sake#in the airport scene she reveals that being his daughter was a burden to her bc of the expectations#Manfred didn't starve them (of food) or beat them bloody#but he was still a shit dad#it's not a strict dichotomy of abuser and good father. that's just not how this works#ace attorney#manfred von karma#franziska von karma#miles edgeworth#von karma estate
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More Heart-Racing Than Hurricanes
Vasco x De Sardet
Word Count: 2.2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes, Drinking
Author’s Note: Who else got pissed that we didn’t get a group celebration or anything in the game? Just me? Oh well. Enjoy! -Thorne
He’d never seen De Sardet intoxicated, not on the Seahorse when they were crossing, nor at the massive party they had when they’d arrived on Teer Fradee. Hell, even when they’d gone to the taverns and ordered a few rounds, the Legate managed to keep up with Kurt, and still retain enough capability to have a sober conversation with Petrus about court politics. De Sardet could apparently hold his liquor with the best of ‘em, and Vasco was determined to see just what the man’s limit was. Question was, how was he going to do it? Luckily enough, Vasco gaining Cabral’s loyalty back was the perfect opportunity to invite everyone out for drinks.
***
“Cheers!” De Sardet beamed, raising his whiskey glass. “To our very own Captain Vasco! A good man, a damned good sailor, and now more Naut than ever!”
The said captain couldn’t help the bubbling in his chest as the group raised their tankards and wine glasses, all directing grins and congratulations his way. Especially De Sardet. The twinkle in the Legate’s eyes made Vasco’s heart beat a little faster every time he remembered just how close they’d been getting.
Vasco pulled his tricorn down a bit to hide the slight embarrassment he felt and smiled at them. “Thank you. All of you.” He glanced at De Sardet and gave him a bashful grin. “Especially you, De Sardet. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your help.”
The man let out a snort as he set his whiskey glass down. “Sure you could’ve.” He uncorked the alcohol and poured another round for himself and Kurt. “Not as stylishly though.”
“You just can’t help but pat yourself on the back every chance you get, huh De Sardet?” Vasco teased and the Legate shrugged, looping an arm around Kurt’s shoulders.
“Well, my dearest Master-At-Arms stopped flattering me the second day he met me, so I have to do it myself.” De Sardet gestured to himself before knocking back the burning liquid. “Someone’s gotta appreciate all this, and none of you are doing it.”
Aphra huffed a laugh, readjusting her seating so she could place her boots on the table—an action that made Petrus frown.
“That’s because your head’s already too big, De Sardet. Any bigger and it’s liable to explode,” she ribbed, all of them breaking into laughter when the man placed a hand to his chest in mock hurt.
“Me? Have a big head? Oh, perish the thought! I’m as humble as humble pie.”
“More like pretentious pie, Green Blood,” Kurt cracked, chuckling when he pouted.
De Sardet groaned and leaned over, all but collapsing onto Vasco and whined, “Do you see how our loving friends treat me, Vasco? Like I’m a prickly cactus they don’t want to be around,” he bemoaned and the Naut merely gazed in amusement at him.
“Well,” Vasco drawled out. “You’ve certainly got the prick part right.”
At that, De Sardet sat up straight, jaw dropped as pure, unbridled shock spread across his face. The table exploded around them, and even Vasco was practically giggling.
“I can’t believe that you’ve thrown your lot in with them!” De Sardet exclaimed, the wooden seat beneath him scratching the cobblestone floor as he stood up. “Bartender!” he yelled. “I need a bottle of brandy! My companions have left me a ruined man!”
De Sardet swiped the bottle from the counter, replacing it just as quickly with a pouchful of clinking, golden coins. “I’m now going to drink my sorrows away. If I don’t make it back to the bar, assume I’ve achieved my plans and lay two tokens upon mine eyes for the ferryman.”
The bartender rolled his eyes, but a laugh escaped him all the same, and when the Legate slunk back into his seat, Petrus said, “All the same, still a remarkable young man, child.” His eyes took on a humorous tone as he quipped, “But you’ve grown into quite the dramatics in that time.”
Moaning, De Sardet uncorked the bottle and took a swig. “Tonight, is supposed to be the celebration of Vasco’s completion of earning Cabral’s loyalty back.” He sent a rather withering glare at the group, though his voice held no heat. “So why have we decided to turn this into a ‘Let’s see who can tear De Sardet a new one’ competition?”
They broke into laughter once more and De Sardet passed Vasco the bottle. The Naut reached out to took it, fingers brushing against the Legate’s, and he fought hard to ignore how his heart skipped a beat. But when De Sardet didn’t let go of the bottle, Vasco arched an eyebrow at him.
“Congratulations Vasco,” De Sardet murmured, eyes narrowing fondly, a twinge of sadness in them as well. “I’m really proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
Vasco gave him a tight smile, hoping the tension wasn’t on his face. “Thank you De Sardet. It means a lot.”
He merely winked in return, letting the bottle go to watch the captain take his own swig. After the third, De Sardet reached over and snatched it back.
“Alright, that’s my bottle. Go get your own to drown your sorrows in,” he griped, nursing the bottle to his chest. Vasco simply huffed and took the bottle of whiskey beside him.
***
Three hours of nonstop drinking and eventual drunken carousing eventually meant that the group had to leave. Which in their defense, Kurt wouldn’t stop getting into bitchfits with other mercenaries—of course it wasn’t necessarily over Kurt’s ability, there was no question about that, more so it was over his job as a so called, ‘glorified babysitter’. After the fifth knockout, the bartender made them leave.
Petrus seemed to be the only one who wasn’t absolutely hammered and offered to see both Aphra and Síora off safely to their rooms and Kurt mentioned something about checking in with Manfred. Which left Vasco and De Sardet, who was neither drunk nor seemed to be in any form other than his normal one.
They took a leisurely pace back towards the residence, a calming quietness between them. Of course, Vasco was irked with himself as he’d not been able to make De Sardet drink enough to see the man buzzed. He really seemed to have no limit when it came to alcohol consumption. Perhaps he’d try the undiluted liquor the Nauts made. Maybe that would actually do something? Maybe it would—
“Are you constipated or something?”
The question was so out of the blue that Vasco completely halted in his steps, craning his neck to look up at the Legate next to him who wore a curious expression.
“I—beg your pardon?” Vasco puzzled and De Sardet nodded at him.
“Your face.”
“What about my face?” the Naut muttered, unconsciously brushing against the new tattoos he’d received the day or so before.
“You’re making the same face that you did when I called your vessel a boat.” He made the said face and De Sardet grinned, waggling a finger at him. “Yeah, that one right there. I was wondering if you were constipated because you look upset.”
Vasco blinked at him, simply staring for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know where to start on that, De Sardet.”
“Well, I mean I’d go for a yes or a no on the constipa—”
“I’m not constipated!” Vasco snapped, feeling flustered when the Legate smirked at him.
“Oh? So, you’re upset about something then?” He knocked his shoulder against Vasco’s. “Wanna talk about it?”
They started on their way again, coming down the stairs that led into the main square.
“It’s not that I’m upset,” Vasco murmured. “It’s just…”
De Sardet stopped. “It’s just?”
To hell with it. “Do you ever get drunk, De Sardet? Because I watched you put enough liquor away to make even the most seasoned drinker look like a beginner.”
The Legate’s face pulled in confusion and he questioned, “Wait. You’re telling me the reason you look upset is because you can’t figure out why I’m not drunk? Really?”
Vasco’s neck sunk into his shoulder sand he muttered, “Well when you put it that way, it seems foolish.”
“Hardly,” De Sardet chuckled, making his way up the wooden ramp of the statue to sit against the base. Vasco followed, stopping just in front of him.
“I won’t say it takes much to get me drunk,” he admitted, making the Naut scoff in disbelief.
“You’re joking. I watched you down two bottles of straight brandy and whiskey, and then more than a few tankards with Kurt. If that’s not much, I don’t know what is.”
De Sardet waved him down and Vasco sat next to him, their shoulders brushing together.
“Honestly, as a magic user, it’s quite hard for me to actually get intoxicated,” he explained, then held up a finger. “Now, if I were to drink undiluted alcohol, that might be another story.”
His wrist and hand shimmered with a flow of black and silvery magic, and Vasco could feel the pulsing through his own body.
“Truth be told, I don’t actually allow myself to become intoxicated outside of my own home.”
“Why not?” Vasco asked, genuinely intrigued.
De Sardet turned his face to the Naut and replied, “There are threats everywhere, especially at night. Never know when those threats might come at you after a night of drinking.”
He reclined his head, eyes cast up to the stars. “I choose to be the one who remains sober so that I can stop a problem before it happens.” He tipped his head slightly. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to any of you because I wasn’t of a mind to protect you all.”
Suddenly Vasco felt a bit foolish and he looked at his hands to avoid looking at De Sardet.
“Oh,” he simply murmured. “And here I thought that you were just impervious to alcohol.”
De Sardet chuckled lowly, turning his eyes back to Vasco. “Is that why you kept pushing drinks at me? Hoping that you’d see me in rare form?”
“Aye,” the Naut admitted and the Legate shrugged.
“I guess I could’ve let go for the night, but old habits are hard.”
Vasco turned his head, now facing De Sardet. “What are you like when you’re drunk?”
“Pfft,” he snorted. “Obnoxious and flirtatious.”
“Oh ho? So just like when you’re sober?”
De Sardet cocked a brow, looking rather amused with himself. “I’m going to outright ignore the agreement of being obnoxious in favor of the latter.” He placed his elbow on the base of the statue and leaned forward, enough that they were almost nose to nose.
“You think I’m flirtatious?” he purred and if there was ever a face of exasperation come alive, it was on Vasco’s face.
“Me and everyone who’s ever met you.”
“Ouch,” De Sardet grinned. “And here I thought you liked my flirtations.”
“I never said I didn’t,” Vasco countered coolly, despite the fluttering in his chest.
One of the Legate’s finger’s twitched, brushing a piece of stray hair from the Naut’s face. “Something tells me that you like being in the middle of storms, Vasco.”
“Depends on the type.”
“Hmm…I’m thinking something much more heart racing than hurricanes.”
Vasco’s arched a brow, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Oh? And what could possibly be more heart racing than twenty-foot waves crashing into the deck of your ship? Death at every turn, certain with even one misstep? Is there something more exhilarating than that?”
De Sardet hand shifted, gently, but firmly taking Vasco’s chin in his hand. He smirked when the Naut’s breath caught. His thumb traced along the raised lines along Vasco’s skin.
“I can think of a few things,” he purred. “Though if we tried them here, we’d get in a great deal of trouble.” Brushing against the bottom of the Naut’s lip, he hinted, “Perhaps we should try them some place where we’ve more privacy?”
Vasco’s tongue felt so heavy and like he’d swallowed cotton, he swallowed thickly, stuttering, “I—I—”
Nothing seemed to come out and as tongue-tied as he was, he knew he wouldn’t manage anything either.
Which is why when De Sardet’s face shifted into a look of seriousness and his hand started to shift, Vasco’s own reached up, catching it in a firm grasp.
“I’m not saying no,” he blurted out. “I just—” Vasco took a deep breath. “I’m buzzed myself. And if we do this, I don’t want to be—I want to remember the night,” he finally decided and De Sardet nodded.
“I understand,” he smiled before taking a deep breath. “That being said, I do think it’s high time we both found our way to our respective bedrooms.” De Sardet clambered to his feet, extending a hand to Vasco, who took it. “We do have a long day tomorrow.”
“God De Sardet,” Vasco started. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to march us halfway across the island.”
De Sardet chuckled. “Not halfway.”
“Thank God. I was afraid I’d be hungover—”
“Just a quarter.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Vasco?”
“You are incorrigible. Incorrigible and terrible.”
“Thanks!”
#vasco x de sardet#de sardet x vasco#greedfall fanfiction#greedfall fanfic#greedfall#vasco fanfic#vasco fanfiction#vasco#de sardet#de sardet fanfic#de sardet fanfiction#kurt#aphra#siora#petrus
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Guest Warriors-ify: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney (original trilogy)
(There will be spoilers!!! These games have a billion characters so I narrowed it down to the most important ones. Sorry if someone you were hoping to see isn’t in here!)
(I might come back for Dual Destinies…)
Phoenix Wright: Dark blue mackerel tabby tom. Thick, medium-length fur that has a tendency to stick upright. Others make fun of him for this. Zealous with an overactive imagination. Clingy with his friends, becomes lethargic when ignored or abandoned. Never, ever gives up. Highly unpredictable. Direct and confrontational, even to the point of yelling in the face of much bigger cats who he knows are dangerous. Keeps managing to fake his way through tough situations in ways that make him look like a prodigy. Because of this, he’s been struggling to maintain this reputation - and keeps barely scraping by. (name: Dovestorm)
Miles Edgeworth: Dark ginger classic tabby tom with a wavy white splash on his chest and on his tailtip. Sleek-furred shorthair. Resting grumpy face. Convinced that his father’s death was his own fault; lashes out his over this guilt by enforcing the warrior code a bit too fiercely. Apprentice-hood friends with Dovestorm; they grew apart when his father died. An actual prodigy who views Dovestorm’s brash rise to fame with contempt. After learning the truth about his father, he’ll go on a long journey to become a much nicer, calmer cat. (name: Sorrelheart)
Dick Gumshoe: Big, stocky tom. Dark brown spotted tabby with a pale underside. Long, scruffy, unkept fur. Sorrelheart’s loyal henchman right-hand man. Far from intelligent but loyal and loving to a fault. Doesn’t have one single bad bone in his body - but has been known to do bad things when ordered to because he’s too naive to fully realize what he’s doing. Jumps to conclusions. Deeply affectionate. (name: Buzzardflower)
Manfred Von Karma: Loud, intimidating blue-silver mackerel tabby tom. Long, elegant fur that’s grayed quite a bit with age. Vicious and egotistical. A bitter, abusive perfectionist with a nasty habit of attacking anyone who disagrees with him - verbally and physically. Has even been known to order the leader around (who, to be fair, is kind of a coward). Sorrelheart’s manipulative former mentor. Killed Sorrelheart’s father and, thanks to Dovestorm, will one day be banished for this. (name: Ashclaw)
Franziska Von Karma: Equally loud, equally intimidating blue-silver mackerel tabby molly. Long, elegant fur that’s still young and beautiful. The spitting image of her father. Perfectionist to the point of intense self-critique. Lashes out violently in response to her insecurities. Does not yet realize that her father was abusive and is bitter over his banishment. Torn between respect for him and sisterly love for Sorrelheart. (name: Birchclaw)
Mia Fey: Black smoke shorthair molly with a long tail. As she is smoke, her mackerel stripes show a bit on her chest and legs. Tall and beautiful. A remarkably just and outspoken warrior who is highly respected for her sense of duty. Murdered by a dangerous rogue she’d been tracking, much to the devastation of her former apprentice, Dovestorm. (name: Sootheart)
Maya Fey: Smoke tortoiseshell shorthair. Has an adorable bushy tail. Supposed to be a medicine cat apprentice but she keeps slacking off. Mischievous molly who is cute enough to pass as innocent, which she uses to her advantage. However, heavily spiritual and mature when she needs to be. Teams up with Dovestorm after her sister, Sootheart, dies. They hunt down that rogue together and become friends in the process, having many more misadventures together afterward. (name: Duckpaw - later Ducktail.)
Pearl: Classic lilac-silver tabby longhair. Very tiny. Much more durable than she appears, both physically and mentally/emotionally. Likes to play matchmaker with the grown-up cats. Another medicine cat apprentice, as it’s normal for this clan to have more than one. Very gifted in her connection to StarClan. (name: Mousepaw - later Mouseleaf.)
Dahlia and Iris: Identical sisters, both lilac tortoiseshells of medium fur length. Both lithe and beautiful. Able to easily pass as each other. One is a violently toxic individual with dreams of revenge; the other is shy and helpless when faced with her sister’s manipulation. (names: Yewfur and Fallowpelt)
Diego/Godot: Originally a handsome dark brown mackerel tabby longhair, poison killed most pigmentation in his body. His nerves (including vision) have been severely impacted as well. Now he’s white with unfocused red-pink eyes. Sootheart’s mate. Was unconscious for quite some time after being poisoned. Sootheart died while he was in this coma, which is a source of much rage and grief for him. Was once cool and collected, difficult to provoke. Now, he lashes out with petty revenge schemes, primarily against Dovestorm, who he blames for letting Sootheart die. Arrogant. Likes to think he’s mysterious but he’s actually just a jerk. (name: Tigercloud - changed to Whitefur)
Larry Butz: Ginger ticked tom of medium fur length and white underbelly. Unpredictable. Has horrible luck; keeps getting in trouble with authority through little fault of his own. Always optimistic, always loud, always dumb. When something goes wrong, he’s usually at the center of it. Nobody likes him and yet he somehow keeps getting dates. (name: Honeystorm)
The Judge: Once-chocolate longhair tom who’s almost completely grayed with age. Supposedly has a strong sense of justice…but easily swayed by threats and sob stories. Pushover. He’s technically the leader but he hardly leads. This guy’s been around forever. How many lives does he have left? Will he ever lose all of them? We just don’t know. (Batstar - once Batfur.)
BONUS: Rise From The Ashes DLC!
Damon Gant: Massive longhair ticked ginger tabby tom. Graying heavily with age but still young at heart. A selfish sociopath who passes as a fun-loving, generous senior warrior. Despises non-clan-cats with a passion. Soft spot for warriors who go above and beyond the call of duty. You are either terrified of him or he’s your best friend. Or both. Most likely both. (name: Lionwhisker)
Lana Skye: Chocolate burmese molly. Shorthair. Deputy but forced into being Lionwhisker’s figurehead. Eternally stoic. Used to be much more gentle and friendly before Lionwhisker started blackmailing her over a murder that her sister was almost framed for. After that, she started to block people out of her life to protect them. (name: Ottercloud)
Ema Skye: Chocolate burmese snowshoe molly with one white paw. Shorthair. Not even remotely stoic. Passionate, ambitious apprentice. Smart but a little too ahead of herself, often missing details and jumping to conclusions. Angry with Ottercloud for growing distant with her, however, is nevertheless determined to get her back as a sister. (Minkpaw - later Minknose.)
Jake Marshall: Pale brown mackerel tabby tom. Long, thick fluff around his neck/chest but otherwise very smooth-furred. Acts laid-back but is actually bottling up his emotions. Useful in a crisis but not very good at long-term planning. Suspects fowl play in his brother’s murder, convinced that it wasn’t a rogue like everyone thinks. (name: Volestripe)
Neil Marshall: Pale brown ticked tabby tom. White tux markings that skip his chin. Very short fur. Eager and hardworking. Former deputy, murdered by Lionwhisker. Minkpaw was originally framed for his murder; Ottercloud found his body, thought her sister had done it, and begged for Lionwhisker’s help to make it look like a rogue did it instead. Ottercloud became deputy in his place. (name: Deerclaw)
Angel Starr: Gorgeous longhair calico with very little visible ginger. Soft, fluffy fur, especially on her tail and around her chest. Highly ambitious and intimidating warrior; however, she knows this and shows off a little too much, which sometimes makes her hard to take seriously. Volestripe’s mate, teamed up with him to investigate Deerclaw’s murder. Deeply despises Ottercloud. (name: Sheepfang)
Bruce Goodman: Black-and-white van tom with medium fur length. Once a reluctant member of Volestripe and Sheepfang’s investigation trio. However, he made the mistake of politely asking Lionwhisker to help them, which got him killed in a fit of panic. (name: Swanpelt)
Mike Meekins: Pale gray-brown shorthair tom. Long-bodied, long-legged, and lithe. Young cat who probably wasn’t ready for the promotion to warrior yet. His main duties include screaming at inappropriate times and annoying Sorrelheart. Looks up to Buzzardflower as a personal hero. (name: Snailfoot)
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