#e couldn't actually fix her. but like its worth a try

[princeofpittsburgh]

estrogen could've fixed her...

[blacklodgemusictx]

Salim Nourallah: Record Release Mini Tour - Dallas Finale

It's over.

I'm home.

Music from my YouTube channel rolls in the background while I try to get my thoughts in order.

I'm buried in thoughts. Pictures. Videos. I want to think on every word. I want to tweak each picture to perfection before sending it out in to the world. But I'm racing the clock. I have to get everything out while I'm awake. Tomorrow the fog descends again. I go back to being a zombie. I have to feel this weekend while I'm still capable.

Last night was "Old Home Week" (a phrase I've never really stopped to examine... homecoming I assume. That's how I've always approached it, but I suspect its origins are older than I am.) The venue was Sons of Hermann Hall in Salim's home of Dallas.

Everywhere familiar faces. I even recognized the woman who sat next to me at Rhett Miller earlier this month in Ft Worth. Rachel, she says. She has ties to Rhett and Salim. My own story is mirrored throughout the room (upstairs. We saw Salim & these same gents here in 2019. The Church as well in 2016). You don't see Salim by accident. At some point you are in his path and he pulls you in to orbit. It's gravity. Friendly faces, performers. Fan-Friends like us: Christian and his lady, Allen. Performer-Friends like Rahim Quazi. Chris Penn (our acquaintance predates mine with Salim. He and I know each other from the Flaming Lips' message board where I used to lurk and get my social fix back circa At War With the Mytics/UFOs at the Zoo) has stepped away from local haven of good taste, Good Records. He's there in his signature orange pants (red? orange? Whatever they are - they are as recognizable as he is).

Merch is in the back of the room. We take up our requested positions, but I warily eye the room as it starts to fill. My need to be upfront is ancient as the tides. I have worked my role as documentarian (taker of pictures, recorder of videos) in to that need. I must be up front. I must see. Band one - Ottoman Turks - take the stage early. Theirs is a country-tinged sound and therefore runs contrary to my essential musical make up. No ones fault. I had a similar reaction when finally seeing Rhett Miller with his Old 97s (solo Rhett is my only desired Rhett -- that's a thing I and my ears know now.) They are young and energetic. They wield their instruments with skill and the early arrivers at the show appear to love them. I perk up and even record a song, an excellent cover of Billy Idol's "White Wedding."

The need wins and pulls me up front. There's one seat left in the front middle. I end up sitting between a woman who actually remembers me from the Billy Harvey show where I brought pies and another woman I didn't even realize I follow on Instagram.

At one point, my view is ruined by John Dufilho once again urging everyone to get up and crowd around the stage. Tonight I am encased in a corset. My satin carapace tonight is bronze over my shades-of-purple dress. I have a closet full. I literally use them to lace my spine back in to place. My excruciating back pain improved briefly and I was able to abandon them, but they are back. I accessorize my outfit with them the same way I coordinate my wardrobe of glasses. It's ok. John doesn't know that.

I crowd watch. I see Rahim [Quazi]. He buzzes around hugging people like a friendship bee tending flowers. I hate the sea of backs and knees I'm watching, but I do take time to appreciate this. Not too long ago a scene like this was the stuff of sweet dreams. We all couldn't imagine when we would be able to gather and sway to music and hug each other again. It really is a thing of beauty.

The lady next to me asks me about the phone on stage for Buttercup. I tell her I'm pretty sure it's just...art. I have noted each night its presence as well as the special vintage luggage carrying case labeled "phone" it emerges from. Each night I have not noticed them use it. I am wrong. Erik uses it in the set similar to Salim and his ever present bullet mic. I ask Doug later if I am unusually oblivious (I wouldn't doubt it.) No, he assures me, this was the first time.

Joe [Reyes] appears next to me later. He lets me hug him. He tells me... something... I pull out my Ottoman Turks gifted ear plugs (master stroke. I pride myself on being constantly prepared and yet always forget something... RIP the phone charger I left at the Austin venue. Most of the time I forget ear plugs). Want conscientious music lovers to remember you? Ear plugs at your merch table! He yells, "THESE GUYS ARE GREAT" he says about the Deathray Davies. YES. I agree. "AND THEY'RE ALL REALLY NICE GUYS." I appreciate this. It seems to be a reoccurring theme. If you have been pre-vetted and Salim-approved, if you've made it in to this circle, you are worth knowing. As someone with a great deal of anxiety (social, free floating, you name it), I appreciate this implied safety immensely.

At some point, another face floats by. A smiling woman tells me how great I look. Am I just feeling like a goddess? Sure, absolutely. I smile in mild, pleasant confusion, but then she introduces herself as Princess. Of course. I've seen the name on Salim's facebook. We've probably been at shows together. I don't get names usually until we've been at multiple shows together. I think Salim thinks we all just know each other by default.

I remember our first show at Galactic Headquarters - Salim's listening room - a place I think of as home now. We bought tickets, but it was such a small group, I kept expecting people to turn to us and go, "who are you? you don't belong here" It was just too intimate. But it's become like a family. So Salim doesn't make introductions because once you are there, you've always been there.

I hope that Salim will issue a reverse Dufilho command, "It's ok... EVERYONE CAN SIT DOWN." But everyone stays up and picks a spot to camp at the stage for Salim's portion of the show (tonight as the Homecoming show Salim and the Treefort/Philistines, he is last). I aim stage right - Joe's side. I hope I can get a good view of Marty. If I got to his side, I'm afraid I'll be too close to him.

I was spoiled by last night's venue.

Sons of Hermann Hall is old. The stage is small. The sound is... old. The lights are... old. It has sort of a dance-at-a-school-gym feel. I actually made a point to write that down in 2019 when we came for the final Travoltas show. The feeling hadn't changed. I doubt it ever will. To change that would be to change its essential make up. Too many things bow down, are brought low in the path of progress. Still - every where I stand, every angle, something is obscured. I do my best.

At some point, I notice the woman next to me. She makes me question my very identity as a fan of Salim's music. This woman is transported. She's having a religious experience. She stomps, bobs weaves, squeal, thrashes. She puts my adoration to shame. I sort of want to cast my camera aside and join her, but I also remember my time with the Lips and how quickly stores of energy deplete when you throw your whole body in to the worship of music like that.

I see her later at merch. I tell her I admire how fervently she enjoyed the show. Music saved her life, she tells me. I can appreciate that. I know exactly what she means.

I love Marty tonight. Tonight he's there. He's starting to give himself for more distance away from his cheat sheets. He smiles, grins at times. He's proud of his solos. He's with them. He's dialed in. Present. I never doubted this, but I love that everyone can see it tonight.

Night one Salim had looked at Marty admiringly, "Doesn't Marty clean up nice?" He really did. All in black, beautiful sunshine orange guitar for contrast. Salim points out he's wearing long pants this time. He's right. I immediately cast backwards in my memory and only pull up images of him in shorts.

He's gorgeously and similarly attired tonight. What I don't realize until tonight is I will see him later after he's snuck off to reapply his shorts. Marty is from cooler climes abroad. I find Texas heat bewildering, every year is a surprise. And I've been here for most of my life. I cannot imagine what heat like this must seem like to him (another place I have found him two out of three of these nights is drinking in available air conditioning. The vent was in the ceiling at the Lonesome Rose and I after seeing him stop to appreciate it, I watch people all night stop in the same exact spot and pose for a minute as though for a Disneyland vacation photo).

I know the end is near. I try not to cheat, but just like skipping to the end of a book, I lean over to look at Joe's set list. "Friends for Life," "Let Go," and... 1978. And though I have sworn to stop contributing to the glut of available copies of 1978 on the Internet, it's also the finale. He calls Olivia, Erik (from Buttercup) and Paul Averitt up to join him. My friend is happy and triumphant... so I record it...

Again. (smiley face)

This ending is happy. I say goodbye to everyone. We'll see Marty and Olivia again soon we're sure. Doug talks music with John Dufilho and is all smiles. At some point, we even talk to Nick Earl - another person we've maneuvered near, but never actually spoke to until this weekend. Doug has something specific in mind. Months ago, Nick was in receipt of two console record players saved from when we auctioned off what would have been the contents BLM if it ever officially opened its doors.

Nick's face lights up. He has something to show us. One player now starts a red-sparkle paint job. He seems to be in the process of turning it in to a space ship.

"So you're a wizard in your spare time?" I ask.

He smiles. He does not deny this.

I will be glad to see him again in the future. He's a weird one. I love the weird ones - in life and in music - they're my favorite.

I hug Salim a few more times. He's grateful to us for our services this weekend. I'm sure he suspects, but I don't think he will ever truly know what it's all meant to me.

If only for three days... I could breathe again.

How do you thank someone for oxygen?

[colourful-void]

Supporting Satoshi - an examination and comparison of JN36 and XY121

Part One: Snowballs do not cure depression but it was worth a shot

You know that episode of Pokemon where a gym leader beats Satoshi in a battle so hard that one of his pokemon gets mildly hurt (though there's no long term effects) and because of it he becomes depressed, closing himself off from his friends before someone comes along to pull him out of that mental state, and also severe weather phenomena is involved and a reflection of a persons mental state? Or rather, the two episodes?

So when I was watching Journeys, I noticed an episode that had a similar-- but distinctly different-- plot to an xy episode I had seen before. And what was particularly interesting was that while I couldn't stand the xy episode, the journeys episode was one of my favourites. I won't drag this out for you guys, I love the journeys episode and re watch it a LOT and the xy episode sort of just leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. and don't go claiming its solely ship bias, because i saw the xy episode first and disliked it then.

This will analyze both of these episodes, comparing them against each other. Specifically within the context of how Goh and Serena both help Satoshi through a similar situation There will be some discussion of AmourShipping and Satogou in this analysis. I'm going to be a bit negative regarding Serena's actions and the potential "romantic" weight of them here, but I want to be clear that I Do Not dislike Serena as a character. Personally, I wish the writers had given her more room to grow outside of her romantic interests, but I do not hate Serena as a character. I do, however, disagree with her actions in this episode. Please don't take this out of context and dont be ship fighting in the comments, it's boring. This is a comparison of These Two Episodes, not of Goh and Serena and their respective ships as a whole.

This part mainly focuses on the xy episode and the second will focus mainly on the journeys. It's only divided into parts because of the tumblr post limit.

(If you like the xy episode or hate the journeys episode, awesome! having your own opinions is great. these are mine though, so i hope you'll listen to them)

With that out of the way, let's start. And I'm going to use mostly japanese names here because I'm taking screencaps from the subbed japanese copies.

The set up for each of these episodes is eerily similar as pointed out in the gag at the start.

Xy has a bit more set up before the episode in question though, with the initial loss and retreat into the forest by Satoshi taking place the episode before. The episode opens up proper with Satoshi taking time to breathe to himself, alone in the forest.

Emphasis is placed on him taking a deep breath, aided by the visuals showing them (thanks cold air) and the silence of the rest of the soundscape, with the only other sounds being the wind and some bird pokemon, plus some falling snow.

Journeys Satoshi starts off in a better mental state than Xy, with the episode starting off with him jogging along with his pokemon.

However, we can still see that he's been affected by the last battle he lost, against Saitou, as he's putting a lot of effort into training and doing better.

Which, doesn't go well for him, as he loses his next two battles as well, and drops in the World Championship ranking as a result

And he's pretty upset about it too. Same thing as over in xy. In both cases, a respective friend/love interest notes that Satoshi is upset and expresses concern.

He's got support from his friends in both situations! But that support comes across in very different ways.

But, to understand how that support manages to affect Satoshi, we need to understand the problem at play.

Now, I wanna make something clear here. Satoshi's problem is not that he is a sore loser. I'm not arguing that's not a contributing factor, or that he's not upset about the loss (particularly in the world championships), He's still bitter about the lost part, but the root of the problem is not losing, he's been shown to be fine with losing (if not a bit more motivated to win now) in prior episodes.

Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are getting hurt. Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are getting hurt, because they're losing battles. Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are losing battles because he's not training them well enough. And to clarify, that's not my viewpoint, it's his. Satoshi's problem is that he's not good enough for himself, and he feels that that's something he has to fix on his own.

So how do we help him?

Our weather event in question is introduced in separate points in the episodes, but I'll cover them both now.

In xy, it's this snowstorm, which conveniently becomes a problem directly after Serena returns to the Pokemon Centre.

In journeys, it's a sandstorm! That's in near direct contrast to a snowstorm! Incredible.

Heading back to xy Satoshi, things aren't going great in the forest. Luckily, Serena's run off to find him.

I think it's of note here that Serena runs off with the best intentions, she wants to help Satoshi, plain and simple. It just sort of goes wrong along the way.

It's worth noting that Xy Satoshi tries to bring himself out of being sad by the tried and true method of "stop being sad"

Despite telling himself this, he doesn't get anywhere. Which makes sense, because it's not getting the the root of the problem. It's not even addressing it at all. He's just trying to 'be better', which isn't even a battle strategy. However, it is something I can see him saying, so this isn't a critique of Satoshi's thought process, but me pointing out that this isn't really effective. Which is supported by the narrative, because again, he doesn't get anywhere, he doesn't even move.

I can't show it in screencaps but the lights in Satoshi's eyes are shaking here, something that they consistently do throughout the series when he's feeling a particularly strong emotion. Keep that in mind. It couples well with another trait of his, and that's his hat!

And by that I mean how he hides his eyes with the brim of it when upset, something he does exactly as Serena shows up and calls out to him. Now, he's not upset that Serena is here. He's upset about the pokemon stuff still. He's trying to hide the fact that he's upset from Serena.

Serena starts off with her speech well, trying to appeal to Satoshi to let her in and talk things out. And maybe it's because he wasn't ready for it yet, or because of the way she phrases it (a lot of 'i' and 'me' language which can be helpful but can also come across as though she's making it about her. not her intent i don't think, but a possible interpretation.), it's not her fault for how Satoshi reacts regardless.

But how Satoshi reacts is not good.

Now it's really interesting to note that before this, Serena was standing while Satoshi was sitting, putting her above him in terms of active power, when it comes to how the shot is presented, but when Satoshi stands up, the camera tilts with the movement so that they're on equal level. Neat!

And Serena yells in return, scolding Satoshi for not talking about it. Not the best move, since pushing someone to talk about something that's upsetting them isn't really productive, but she's trying here and she's frustrated.

Satoshi continues to withdraw and self isolate, claiming it is his problem and that he wants to be left be. Now, this is the mindset of a clearly upset person and isolation may not be the best option, but he did make the explicit request to be left alone here.

He's clearly upset as he turns away from Serena's eye and slumps over a little.

And then Serena throws a snowball at him.

Angry as he is, you can see Satoshi's expression change when he sees Serena's reaction.

Serena tells Satoshi that she's not like the Satoshi she knows, who is always full of energy and positive and a leader, and a bunch of other positive traits. The problem here, is that Serena's looking at an idealized version of Satoshi. And while the intent here was probably meant to be something more like "you have so many wonderful traits about you I know you can do this", coupled with the snowballs and the phrasing, it seems as though Serena is scolding Satoshi for being sad.

Or rather, being angry with him for not living up to her idealized version of him, and not wanting him to express any negitave emotions.

Which is sort of a really bad mindset.

The snowballs continue, never once does Satoshi fight back. In fact, he stops arguing entirely after the first one. Serena knocks him off his feet and tells him he's not being himself, before running off. (In the english dub, Serena claims that Satoshi isn't being "the real satoshi" and then demands that the real Satoshi be "given back", so it could be worse)

Satoshi decides to literally run his problems away, because it will help him reach some kind of conclusion, and immediately trips and falls down a large hill. No, I'm not making that up. Something like this just isn't like him. He's just gotta stop being sad!

Now personally, I really disagree with the idea that "being upset" isn't "like a person". That's because based off of my own experiences, I know it can be really damaging to hold the mindset that any negative emotions you feel aren't a part of you and that you shouldn't be upset because you're usually a positive and happy person. Not the case with every person, but I personally really have a problem with shows telling children that they just shouldn't be upset instead of processing their emotions in a meaningful way. (The journeys episode doesn't do an outstanding job of it either, but this is a bit of a tangent anyway. A show that does do this right is "OK KO! Let's be Heroes" which actually deals with this problem in greater depth and does a fantastic job of it.)

But the snowball scene ends here. Now I'll get back to Journeys in a moment, but since Serena has finished her part of the comparison for the most part, I'm going to summarize a bit more of the xy episode.

Satoshi decides to literally run his problems away, because it will help him reach some kind of conclusion, and immediately trips and falls down a large hill. No, I'm not making that up.

The snowstorm kicks in, Serena get back annoyed, then similarly groans and yells, and the whole xy gang + pokemon go running off in search of Satoshi. Pikachu appears the most concerned.

Now Serena tells the others she lost her cool and said something horrible to Satoshi, but explains its because Satoshi is someone she admires. Cool motive, I get it, still kinda bad.

and in the end, it's not Serena's words that get he message across to Satoshi. The solution to this problem was Satoshi finding a way to reaffirm his abilities and instinct.

In the xy episode, he helps some pokemon out of the tree, and when his very cool frog friend shows up, they're able to work together with their bond to save this one from falling off a cliff.

Here's the point. Satoshi learns by doing, by actions. He needs to see first hand that there are ways of getting past his problems, and that it's worth having the courage to keep going. The lesson is about valuing pokemon as equals and partners, and specifically that trying to be better as the trainer alone isn't going to help.

This is essentially where this plot line ends, team rocket is there for a bit as well but as much as i love them they're not relevant here, and some fun stuff with the league, love it not important right now its like 3am and I'm not sleeping until this is finished so we gotta keep things moving.

This was no doubt Serena's intent to get a similar point, but she goes about it the wrong way. She tries to convey this with words, as conversation and motivational words have helped her in the past (Elle's words of praise stick with her, Satoshi's words from when they were kids, etc). It's a good idea, but their different ways of learning and growing from a similar situation are incompatible, and that's why things don't work out in Serena's favour. There's also still the problem of "pulling yourself together" not being helpful in this case.

There's also a very similar line in this scene to the one at the end of the journeys episode, as Satoshi says to his frog that they should start over from scratch. It's essentially the same phrase with different wording. It's great. The Storm ends as he realizes this as well! Wonderful in terms of pathetic fallacy.

The gang all reunites, its nice. Satoshi thanks Serena for what she said after apologizing to everyone, which contradicts what he said earlier but I've already established that I dislike this message here so I won't go over it too much. I guess he's right in a literal sense in that in response to her words he went and ran until he tripped off a cliff but the emotional growth here was because of his own actions (and the frogs), not Serena's. Sorry Serena, you'll get em next time.

This is essentially where this plot line ends, team rocket is there for a bit as well but as much as i love them they're not relevant here, and some fun stuff with the league, love it not important right now its like 3am as I write this so we gotta keep things moving.

So. What about Goh?

Well...

(Part Two here on account of image limit!!)

[collabwithmyself]

1-3: Turnabout Transfix (2/2)

The article in the paper under the list of missing persons had the wrong name before "Wright, age nine," and a lump formed in Miles's throat.

"That's not his name," he tried to say. It came out as a croak. "We told them his name was Phoenix. I know we did."

Ray, sitting beside him at the dining room table, looked disgusted but defeated. "They added it as a footnote," he pointed out. ""Responds to Phoenix"... Nick's not a dog."

Miles wanted to hunt down every copy of the paper and throw them all into the trash can. His best friend was missing, and people were calling him the wrong name because he wasn't there to stop them. It wasn't fair.

Miles looked to Ray as though he had an answer to right this horrible injustice. Ray looked as tired and frustrated as he felt, chewing on a thumbnail as he thought deeply.

"We can head down and talk to them," he offered, after a long pause.

That was what Father would have done. He would have marched right down to the office where they printed the paper and demanded a retraction. But nobody was going to take a freshman law student and his newly adopted nine year old seriously.

"It's worth a try," Miles responded, because a defense attorney should never give up hope.

⁂

Staying up late to scrutinize the series he already knew by heart for clues of some sort was a mistake, and Miles knew it. His eyes began to droop only partway through the season as Maya snored against his side, and he was vaguely aware he was becoming less and less alert every time he had to pull his head back up from his chest.

It didn't occur to him that he shouldn't be letting himself doze off in the presence of company.

His sleep was never restful. Every night, his subconscious was forcibly yanked back to the day everything changed.

Some nights, he found himself reliving what he was certain was a memory. The dialogue never changed, the action never shifted. A heated argument in the elevator, a foolish bid to stop it, a single gunshot, and that horrid, high-pitched wail of agony that he knew belonged to one of the people he'd lost that day.

Other times, he dreamed not of his father, but of Phoenix.

Those dreams changed, but they remained the same nonetheless. Whether running through the streets with Larry, or through the backyard of his home, or through the hallways of the courthouse, the same thing always happened - Phoenix disappeared. Maybe he ran too far ahead, or lagged too far behind, but Miles's friend was suddenly nowhere to be found, and he felt painfully, crushingly alone.

His subconscious had decided to grace him with the former that night, and when he woke up with "father" on his lips and sweat on his forehead, a rumpled-looking Maya was staring at him in undisguised concern.

"...are you o--"

Miles turned away from her and said nothing, effectively stopping the conversation before it began.

Maya was silent, and when Miles glanced back over, her gaze was fixed on the television, which was still playing through the old episodes of Steel Samurai. She lacked the enthusiasm they both shared for the show, however. She seemed deep in thought.

"...you don't wanna talk about it?" she asked quietly.

He and Uncle Ray never talked after nightmares. One would get up to find the other in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea, and silently join them, knowing the other was thinking of the same thing but not having the courage to voice it aloud. Saying it gave it form, and Miles refused to shed any more tears over something he knew full well was his fault.

"No," Miles responded, sharp and blunt all at once.

"You wanna talk about something else, then?" Maya glanced sideways at him. "I used to talk with Sis after I had nightmares. It helped get my mind off things."

Miles hesitated. "Something else sounds nice," he said quietly.

"How about court today? Prosecutor von Karma was hopping mad, huh?" Maya let a grin stretch across her face as she leaned towards Miles. "She looked like she wanted to tear her hair out. Or maybe yours."

"That woman needs to see a therapist," he muttered.

"I think we all do, My."

"...you've got me there."

⁂

As the trial wore on throughout its second day, Sascha von Karma continued to act stranger and stranger. Before the judge could reprimand her for being far too harsh with the witness, Cody Hackins faltered and lost the confidence Miles had been working hard to build up about his witness account, a terrified look in his eyes. To his surprise, von Karma went ashen and actually stumbled back a little, like she hadn't meant to push a little boy nearly to tears.

Honestly, with her disposition, Miles wouldn't have thought she would care. But here she was, clutching her side, eyes blown wide with something like fear. Something in Miles's stomach turned over. Was he actually feeling sympathetic for this ferocious woman?

But it wasn't just him. Mia beside him (that had been a jolt to his nervous system -- he hadn't been able to see her clearly the last time Maya had summoned her) had her brow furrowed in concern as she stared at the prosecution. "I haven't seen her make a face like that since..."

Miles glanced at her. "Since... what?"

"...don't worry about it. Focus on the trial here and now, Miles." Mia gave him that mysterious smile that meant she was withholding important information from him. He knew it well. He huffed at her, and she huffed back.

Despite Mia's testimony, von Karma had that same look on her face as Vasquez took the stand the next day, wide eyes flicking between the witness and the defense bench. She was strangely silent, not offering a single protest as Miles proceeded with the cross-examination.

But he couldn't afford to wonder about it. Vasquez was clever and tight-lipped, and his attempts to wring her testimony dry and find something to pin her down were fruitless. She and the judge had both gotten irritated at this point, and when Miles hesitated, scrambling to find some point he hadn't pressed, the latter decided he'd had enough.

Miles cursed inwardly as the judge raised his gavel. Vasquez adjusted the pin of her shawl, self-assured in her victory. This was the end. He was prepared to accept defeat.

He couldn't have possibly prepared for what happened next, however.

"OBJECTION!"

Miles jerked his head up. Beside him, Maya gasped in surprise.

Across the room from him, left arm outstretched in a frantic point, was a frazzled, trembling Sascha von Karma.

She stared blankly at her own hand, as though it had moved of its own volition. Then she jumped - actually jumped - when the judge demanded to know the meaning for the interruption.

"Right! Uh. Um. The reason I objected," she babbled, "is because... uhh..."

It was the least composed Miles had ever seen her. He was bewildered. What did she think she was doing?

"...I don't have a reason," she admitted, shoulders slumping.

"Er..." The judge blinked owlishly at her. "Very well. Now--"

"OBJECTION!"

The poor judge looked as baffled as Miles felt. "Miss von Karma?"

"I... I request that the witness testify again!" she blurted out, digging her fingers into the desk. She looked disheveled, stray hairs having slipped out of her ponytail to poke out at a very odd angle. "I, um... I want to hear about... the, uh..."

Vasquez snarled with impatience. "Why are you badgering me? I'm your witness!"

"I'm inclined to agree!" the judge added. "I see little point in making Ms. Vasquez repeat herself..."

Miles looked at Maya. Maya looked at Miles. What?? Maya mouthed at him. Miles shrugged helplessly.

von Karma floundered. "Uh... yeah... great point... ummmmMMM! I want to-- I wish to hear about the body discovery! What happened after you found it?"

That hadn't occurred to Miles. But what could that possibly reveal? And why was von Karma risking sabotaging her own case by asking after it? She practically had the win in the bag, and after Miles had humiliated her so thoroughly after their last clash in court, she had no reason to let this continue.

What was going on?

⁂

The relief of a not guilty verdict and the butterflies of being in such close proximity to Mr. Powers yet again were a powerful combination that filled Miles's mind with fuzz and forced out any less important thoughts, like von Karma's odd behavior or Maya tugging on his coat.

"M-My! Hey! Miles! Kilometers! Little My!"

"H-Hrm?"

Maya pointed to somewhere behind him. "I, um... I think you're in trouble."

Miles turned, and flinched when he found himself nose to nose with a furious prosecutor.

"You," von Karma snarled, "should not be expecting a repeat performance of today! You're lucky I took pity on you! You got that?!"

Her voice raised to a yell as she spoke, and her burning eyes pinned Miles where he stood. He leaned away, but she just leaned forward.

"Don't you dare be expecting a shred of mercy from me from now on! You may be the son of that loathsome excuse of a defense attorney, and the favorite of that voluptuous wretch--"

Now, Miles was not going to sit there and take that. "You should never speak ill of the dead, Miss von Karma," he snapped, straightening his spine and making her flinch away. He met her glare with all the intensity he could muster...

...and then paused.

How curious.

"Wh... What? What is it?" von Karma's hastily plucked brows furrowed as an edge of nervousness worked its way into her voice, and Miles realized he'd spoken aloud.

"Your eyes," he continued hesitantly. They were heterochromatic - one brown, one blue. "They reminded me of someone. An old friend."

von Karma inexplicably blanched. She looked distant for a moment, and her left hand dug into her right side, just below her ribcage. "You... wh..."

Then she shook herself, and that boiling anger was back full force. "Why are you getting all nostalgic on me, you-- ugh! You listen closely, Ed... E-Edge..."

Again, she went pale, looking ill. Miles was starting to worry after her health at this point, despite the fact he was in the middle of being screamed at. "Er..."

"You... you listen closely, Worthless!" She thrusted a finger up towards him, nearly jamming it up his nose with how close she was. "These eyes... you'll see them and know nothing but despair once we meet again, you hear me?! I'm going to crush you, and I'm going to enjoy it!"

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and stomped off, seething.

Maya coughed weakly. "Uh. Wow. What was that all about?"

Miles stared after Sascha von Karma, his gut clenching with inexplicable grief. "I have no earthly idea."

⁂

You failed again.

You can't even blame him this time.

This is all your fault.

Victory was within your grasp.

All that matters to a von Karma is perfection.

And yet you gave him an opening.

A von Karma should be swift and merciless.

You're weak. He's gotten into your head. You can't stop thinking about him.

Even his name makes you sick.

Miles Edgeworth...

...

...why does it feel like you're forgetting something?