#firearms aren't accessible

[ixtral]

They should invent an at-home suicide method that works 100%, is painless, and is easily accessible for everyone.

[edeldoro]

.

[elfwreck]

Hello!

I'm not sure if this is a bit odd to ask, but I saw your post about living in rural arkansas as a teen- and the note at the end about gun rights, and how rifles are different than handguns in that legislation and all-

do you have any sources you could link so I can look into that more? I live in rural Kentucky so hunting is very ingrained into just how me and my family and our neighbors live. (also a poor county- I didn't actually know other cities had kids pay for their lunch because I was so used to everyone in my county getting a free lunch- it seems like such a basic thing).

I've never heard anyone mention not banning hunting rifles when they talk about banning guns-

The gun bans being asked for are assault rifles and semi-automatic pistols. Rapid-fire guns intended for military use against multiple human targets - not hunting rifles at all, and not the kinds of pistols that are good for self-defense. (...Not that pistols are good for self-defense in general. Shotguns are good for self-defense. Nobody's trying to ban shotguns.)

The NRA is invested in convincing hunting-rifle owners and pistol owners that the various proposed weapons bans are aimed at them, and not at the tiny number of people who want the ability to shoot up a whole bar or classroom in under a minute.

The NRA has also fought hard against any kind of gun safety requirements.

Bill from last year to ban/restrict assault rifles:

https://www.congress.gov/bill/118th-congress/senate-bill/25/text

The gun safety bill Biden recently signed:

Doesn't ban any weapons. Puts restrictions on who can get weapons - people convicted of most types of domestic partner violence will not be allowed to buy guns. It makes it harder for people under 21 to buy guns. It closes some loopholes about selling guns, so sellers will need to be registered and licensed. Sets up new funding for gun crisis intervention.

Doesn't do anything to restrict hunting, other than possibly adding to the bureaucracy for people under 21 getting new guns.

Most people in urban areas are oblivious to hunting as a Real Thing that People Actually Do For Good Reasons, rather than a kind of cruel sporting event. They are vaguely aware that hunting rifles are not assault rifles, are not semi-automatics, but only as an abstract concept. Might or might not be able to tell a hunting rifle apart from a semi-automatic if they saw them. (I am not sure I could; I am very much not a gun person.) (I have shot one gun, once in my life. It was loud and hurt my hand and I had no interest in doing it again.)

I don't know how much I think we need to ban or restrict certain weapons. I am absolutely certain we need to keep certain weapons out of the hands of certain people, because the current system of "I guess 10-year-olds should all get training on what to do if some teacher's ex-boyfriend decides to shoot up the school" is ridiculous.

Given how hard it is to identify the "certain people" who should damn well NOT have access to automatic weapons, I'm okay with "it gets harder for anyone to get them," because I don't see how heavy assault rifles are a "but I neeeeed it this weekend!" kind of thing. (Not sure I see that hunting rifles are a "need it now" kind of thing, either; seems like those are a hefty enough purchase that the buyer should be doing some planning in advance. So filing for it like you would for car registration - another expensive piece of tech that kills people if you use it wrong - shouldn't be too big a burden.)

The idiots who include hunting rifles in their talk about banning guns - I won't say there aren't any; all sorts of politics gets plenty of idiots - have no idea how those guns actually get used. And the people writing actual policies and trying to get the laws changed are not those idiots.

The "ban guns" movement has two main parts:

Remove general access to guns that can kill a dozen people in under a minute, and

Remove gun access from specific people who have a history of getting angry and violent, especially those who have a history of shooting other people when they're angry and violent.

Side note: Some of us want that second point to include cops. That faction is getting nowhere.

None of it is trying to remove access to hunting rifles or reduce the amount of hunting in places that need it. (Basically, all of the South; I am near San Francisco and nobody anywhere near me "needs" to hunt; I don't care what they do with hunting rights in the greater SF Bay Area).

The focus is on preventing gun violence, not preventing gun use. And that means restricting access to guns that have no purpose other than anti-human violence, and restricting access to all guns from people who are likely to use them as weapons instead of tools.

[moonfoxgazer]

It could be considered sad, perhaps, how things must happen for things to continue on the correct path, consider how it could be comparable to that of the work of a ranch-hand as they guide the herd towards the best pastures. Occasionally they must make a difficult decision which may or may not require a sacrifice, some of the herd may not make it, but ultimately it is for the best possible outcome for the whole.

*insert that one song with tears falling down at the party and being the saddest baby in the room* I've been playing with the whole cowboy Danny Phantom idea for awhile now. If ya'll are curious about designs and meaning feel free to read below. Don't fret, I have more cowboy stuff stewing in the stock pot, but the potatoes aren't soft enough yet so ya'll have to wait a bit more.

For Danno So design choices are taking Southwestern outfitting and combining it a little with the Ghost King stuff too, such as the Crown of Fire becoming akin to a hat band (which nicer hat bands and sometimes feathers are often earned within ranch-hand and rodeo cultures) and then the Ring of Rage becomes the Bolo of Rage, heh. And naturally the kiddo's insignia becomes a belt buckle because those are earned for sure and usually goes with the outfit. Now for CW

I based a lot of his design off more outrider/ outlaw designs while keeping the feeling of his original outfit. So his cloak remained but shorter and a little more ragged, which many travelers back then would have some sort of cloak or coat, depending on region, money and circumstance, fighters usually went with looser clothing so it was easier to move and access weapons. Of course you have the bandolier, which was used mostly to carry more ammo. The rifle CW is carrying is loosely based off a Winchester Model 1873 Smoothbore Rifle, which was a common rifle type in the late 1800s. Of course I had to reference the medallions with an engraving in the butt of the rifle, which carvings and decorations on firearms were common during the time, with many carving the decorations themselves during downtime, and well, we know how CW is about his branding. The last bit that really could stand out is his belt buckle, which is of course decorative and based off Dine Silver and Turquoise jewelry with a common blossom pattern in the center. Being from the southwest, there's a lot of things about life out here, both in the past and present that require sacrifice and that's something that resonates a lot with DP honestly. It's a theme I like playing with a bit when it comes to the idea of the southwest. It's why Danny looks melancholy and withdrawn here and CW in his typical aloof nature is more, neutral. If ya'll read through all this, congrats, you didn't get caught in a cactus, ya'll are awesome.

[howtofightwrite]

is it possible to write a fight scene with a wheelchair user and a abled body person? How would I go about doing that? I've spent months in a wheelchair before so I know a lot about that but I've thankfully never fought someone in that state. Would I have to add weapons?

I remember covering this a long time ago.

Given you have the background experience, I can skim over some of this. Obviously you're familiar with how much harder it is to get around, and the general loss of mobility and reach. Ironically, with the original, I had some pushback for pointing out that. Yes, you're not going to be as agile if you're in a chair.

However, there is one major advantage for someone who's been in a chair for years. It's a little tricky to operationalize, but is extremely dangerous. When you're in a chair, you're using your hands and arms to propel your body, all the time. This means that people who are confined to a chair will build up far more muscle strength in their hands and arms. If they have the combat training to use that, it can make them a frighteningly effective grappler.

Being able to add weapons to a fight, particularly when your opponent won't be doing so, is always a nice option. Stashing a firearm in the chair is a decent idea, if it will avoid discovery. Similarly, if someone doesn't take the wheelchair bound individual as a serious threat, that could provide an opening for the wheelchair user to fatally stab them.

This more of a general combat advice, but if you have the opportunity to eliminate a threat without giving them the opportunity to fight back, take it. Obviously, this has some limitations in the real world, where assault and homicide charges are a thing, but in a justifiable situation, eliminate foes rather than getting into fights. This is especially important for characters with impairments (like, being in a wheelchair.) If you're in a chair, or limping around with a cane, you really don't want to get into a fight. This is still true, even if you aren't impaired, because a prolonged fight raises a real risk of serious or life altering injuries, so, best to avoid that if at all possible.

The old advice of, “write what you know,” is in full effect here. You understand how much being confined to a wheelchair limits you, so you already understand how much more threatening the prospect of violence is. The thing that might be key to think about is that while your character can work around this, they are still in a more vulnerable position, and will need to be more careful. That means, there's more on the line if they're found. This is not a bad thing. I know I've said it many times before, but your job as a writer is to create a compelling story, and things that limit or impair your characters (in meaningful ways), amplify the threats your characters are facing, which can be good for the story. Not every fight needs to be an epic duel, and sometimes, one character managing to barely scrape out a win through underhanded tactics, when a frontal attack would have ended poorly, can be satisfying.

-Starke

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[glucosegaurdian]

I'm curious and writing something but I'm not sure statistically what is more common for someone to have or prefer to use in a fight. You have time to prepare. This is both the gauge what is common to own and what is more practical in your eyes

[txttletale]

Do you have any thoughts on Weaverdice? I haven't looked into it meself but I heard it's like a very bastardized version of Worm. Which is weird, because didn't Wildbow himself make Weaverdice?

weaverdice is really bad but unlike many ttrpgs i think are bad i think it's bad in novel and interesting and valuable ways. it's bad because wildbow clearly does not have the skill of 'game design' and so it consists of about two dozen entirely separate mechanics with basically no connective tissue -- it's in a weird spot where wildbow's mode of thinking about TTRPGs in general is heavily simulationist but then the ruleset is nowhere near heavy (or complete, it's on it's third edition now and none of the editions have been finished) enough to actually carry that simulation forward so it ends up being very fiddly and confusing to very little payoff in terms of delivering on the Simulationist Feel for a lot of people who like that thing. like lots of rules that are like 'here are the specific stats and prices of several different types of Gun' like what you might find in a GURPS manual but none of the underlying detailed rules about firearms and accuracy that make those stats valent in GURPs.

it's definitely got a systematized take on powers and generation that doesn't really retrofit to what was going on in worm, which is probably why you've heard it's 'bastardized'-- however i will conditionally defend this take by saying that for one of the core (and imo best and most interesting and most worth stealing and innovating on) mechanics of the game, which is table character generation with no player choice involved, this systematized approach is actually useful and necessary. it's silly that it gets applied outside that context, but i do think that within the context of a table generating powers for each other it's a pretty good way to go about it.

it has all the classic problems of someone's first TTRPG project--the math is absolutely fucked beyond reasonable repair, the scope of the project vastly outweighs the amount of time and work available to be put into it, the creator has read/played a limited number of TTRPGs and so has access to a limited creative toolkit to express things that those toolkits aren't really designed for--i definitely wouldn't recommend playing it. but it's interesting to read and think about at least!

[sammy8d257]

[Originally drawn: May, 2021]

AvA Mafia AU! concept art! with the original idea created with @k1ttyadventurer

Here's a little rundown of this AU:

Char!Alan created Chosen as the head of the gang with Dark as his right-hand man and Victim was going to be the, well, the victim of the story in the animation. Second was going to be the frontman, basically running a small restaurant as a cover-up for the group’s illegal business. But as said above, teenage Noogai eventually gave up on the project but at this point, all of the sticks had become sentient so Noogai let them live on his desktop.

Everything is all good and fine. Everyone’s friends with each other but there’s also a nagging feeling of emptiness. They all realize, “Man, I still want to do mafia stuff” and then subsequently, realize they have access to the interweb and if they wanted, could start ACTUALLY doing mafia stuff.

They create a Mafia gang on the Interspace and Noogai is none the wiser.

And then, comes along 4 brightly colored sticks looking for an open positions in the Noogai Gang. And Yellow convinces (blackmails) them to let the Color Squad into the Family. ^^

(Keep in mind, when I mean Mafia stuff, I mean it in a very movie/video game-esque manner. Everything is very idealized and nothing is too realistic. It’s supposed to be a fun AU!)

As seen above, Purple is also in this AU but they're part of a rival gang called the "Kingdom" with it's boss, King and his "brutes".

If you wanna read the Oneshot I wrote to accompany this, you can find it here!

[The First Meeting - AvA Mafia AU]

<= v =>

Basic Character Info!

The Original 4 (the Hollow Heads): Created by a teen Noogai, have since continued using his username as the name for their Mafia organization, known as the Noogai Gang.

Chosen (He/Him): The Head Boss, has all his usual powers. The brains of the operation, Chosen spends most of his time trying to organize everything and everyone.

Dark (He/They): The Right Hand Man, the Enforcer role and a skilled coder. Dark enjoys his job a lot and doesn't like how easily RYGB were accepted into the group.

Victim (Any Pronouns): Originally supposed to be the person getting attacked in the original animation but since it never got finished, their role was never solidified. As a result, they have the ability to change their color and they use it to be a "master of disguise". Their original color is black but they switched it to a dark gray so they don't match with Chosen.

Second (Any Pronouns): The Front-Man of the group. They run a diner in the Interspace to help cover up the groups illegal activities. Don't let their warm demeanor fool you though, their hands are just as dirty as the others.

The Color Squad (RYGB): 4 stick figures from a fighting game that got bored of it and decided to pursue other interests.

Yellow (They/Them): the de facto "leader" of the group. Yellow is extremely skilled in coding and hacking. They're the one who did most of the research into finding potential mafia-style organizations to join.

Red (He/Him): Red is the hand-to-hand fighting expert. He loves getting into fights and isn't afraid of getting hurt.

Blue (They/She/He): Blue has a mastery over various poisons and other ways to silently kill. They are also the stealthiest of the group.

Green (He/They): The weapons expert. Green knows how to wield any sort of weaponry in combat. Whether it be firearms, blades, or a bo staff, Green can use them all.

The Kingdom: An older more established rival gang to the Noogai gang.

King (He/Him): The elusive leader of the Kingdom, King rules his corner of the illegal market with powerful efficiency. Although rarely spotted, some say they've seen him strike down opposers with one swipe of his staff.

Purple (They/Them): Purple is one of the higher ranking members of the Kingdom. They're usually sent out on scoping missions to make sure the Kingdom's assets aren't being tampered with.

Others:

Noogai/Alan: The creator of the hollow heads. He lets them live on his desktop and do whatever they want as long as his stuff doesn't get destroyed. In this universe, Alan never goes on to create the Animator vs Animation series and instead works on other unrelated animations. Noogai is unaware the sticks started a mafia gang and the sticks want to keep it that way. The sticks themselves are also VERY loyal to Alan and would do anything to protect him.

The Brutes: These are what people call members of the Kingdom due to the rumors of their brutality.

[bj-blazkowicz]

(forwarded to this blog from my main)

of course! i talk a lot about firearms because they're a hot button issue and misinformation about them is dangerous, but firearms are by no means the most important component of defense. they're not even strictly necessary; they help but you're not doomed if you aren't in a position to incorporate them into your life.

the general anatomy of personal safety comes in a hierarchy of priorities:

1. avoiding being put into dangerous confrontations.

2. (where prevention is not feasible) escaping dangerous confrontations that are in progress.

3. (where escape is not feasible) ending dangerous confrontations that are in progress.

it is important to note that the one thing that helps you in all three situations is community. the buddy system works wonders. if you are at risk, run errands with a friend/loved one. if you must go somewhere dubious alone, tell your nearby support system where and when you should be back, so it is apparent immediately if something is wrong. get to learn your neighbors' names, learn who is going to have your back and who could use your help.

here are my general tips for self-defense based on this model of danger:

when it comes to escaping a confrontation, a big part of this is de-escalation. do not escalate or attempt to aggravate someone who is behaving in a threatening manner. do not play the role of an active participant; someone who is going to give an attacker the confrontation that they want. use neutral body language, signal to your support system that you need help, call for help if necessary, and just get the fuck out of there. never underestimate the power of shouting and running.

when it comes to ending a dangerous confrontation, the key word is ending, not winning. you're not trying to win a fight, you're trying to get back to your life. escape is still the priority, do not stick around to 'defeat' your attacker or whatever. the use of lethal weapons is deeply discouraged when you have access to deterrents. pain deterrents such as mace, pepper spray, etc. can buy you the time necessary to get help or escape, and are far easier to carry on your person than a lethal weapon. additionally, i highly recommend carrying a rechargeable LED flashlight on you at all times. modern tech has resulted in a market saturated with affordable flashlights that pack a serious amount of lumens, and fit right in your pocket. i often forget i even have my streamlight on me, it's that comfortable to carry. and while light is an obvious resource in other situations, such as power outages or night chores, light is a key resource to self-defense. you have to see what is going on in order to address it. a nighttime aggressor may be relying on the anonymity and disorienting nature of dark surroundings to have the upper hand, and may likely be deterred by the presence of a bright light, but also most LED lights these days put out enough lumens to disorient a creep even before it gets all that dark out. getting hit directly in the retinas by a 600+ lumen flashlight at night fucking wrecks your ability to see and act. remember, disorienting an attacker long enough to get help or get out will save your skin way better than a weapon will.

it is pivotal that you practice situational awareness if you are worried about an environment posing a threat. keep your eyes on the area and off your phone. know your exits, and stick to areas that won't isolate you with a potential aggressor. keep your car/house keys handy. keep your phone handy if you need to make a call.

self-defense courses seem like an obvious point to make here, but i want to stress that the value of knowing what to expect in a confrontation is without peer. dry runs with an instructor can help you to know how to use your body to react in a split second situation; a skill many take for granted. if you want to full-on learn a martial art, that's awesome! martial arts are very good for you in a lot of different ways. but if you're worried about self-defense, be sure to stress learning how to use your body to escape/end a confrontation more than turning it into some sparring match. it's a completely different skill entirely but equally worth acquainting yourself with.

hope that helps! i try to discourage the act of 'buying' safety but a good light and some pain deterrent like pepper spray are relatively affordable compliments to the know-how that saves lives. i also recommend assembling a first-aid kit and learning how to perform first-aid. if you're going to buy a pre-made kit, that's fine, but take the time to learn every component in there and how to use it to save lives. keep one in your car, in your house, your bag if you go out, and routinely practice and review first-aid techniques.

[haggishlyhagging]

The link in this chapter between misogyny and public acts of slaughter is astonishing. Two of the men, Adam Lanza and Kevin Neal, murdered close female relatives before embarking on massacres. Another, Devin Kelley, was hoping to kill his mother-in-law when he started firing in a church in Texas. Nikolas Cruz subjected his adoptive mother to a decade of abuse and stalked an ex-girlfriend before he is alleged to have carried out a school shooting. Two other stalkers - Jarrod Ramos and Seung-Hui Cho - used modern technology to harass women they knew from school and college. Elliot Rodger, a pathologically insecure and self-obsessed misogynist, has become a hero for some angry young men who don't have instant access to sex whenever they want it.

At least two of the killers in this chapter had sadomasochistic fantasies about women. Stephen Paddock was wealthy enough to pay vulnerable women to allow him to act them out, avoiding unwanted attention from the law. Robert Dear Jnr looked for ‘discreet’ partners - presumably he meant women who wouldn't report him for beating them up - on dating sites and was arrested on suspicion of rape, although the case was dropped. Dear's history is remarkable both for the number of women he abused and as an example of the dire consequences of failing to prosecute men for domestic and sexual violence.

The same failure comes up time and time again, suggesting that police and prosecutors lack the will or the competence to get convictions - and don't understand that violence in the home may be an early warning sign of violent intentions towards strangers. It is bad enough that this happens in countries like the UK where many women feel they can't rely on the police to protect them against angry and unstable family members, let alone sexual predators. But it is nothing short of catastrophic in the US, where convictions for rape and some - though by no means all - forms of domestic violence are among the few obstacles to the easy purchase of semi-automatic weapons. There are significant gaps in the legislation: federal law designed to prevent domestic abusers buying firearms applies only to men who beat up wives or women with whom they have a child. Some of the most common types of abuse - stalking, for example, or violence against a mother - aren't covered by federal law, leaving it to individual states to prevent access to guns by convicted stalkers.

Even when a man has a relevant conviction, the information isn't always recorded or shared in the proper manner, a point demonstrated by the failure of the USAF to inform the federal authorities about Devin Kelley's convictions for brutal assaults on his first wife and stepson. The fact remains that, had Kelley's history been shared with the federal database, he wouldn't have been allowed to purchase the weapons he used in the Sutherland Springs shooting - and twenty-six people, including the fourteen-year-old daughter of the church pastor, might still be alive today. Likewise, had Dear been convicted of rape or beating up his ex-wives, he wouldn't have been able to amass the arsenal of firearms he used in the Colorado Springs attack, potentially saving the lives of the three strangers he murdered.

-Joan Smith, Home Grown: How Domestic Violence Turns Men Into Terrorists

[thefandomcassandra]

hallowed be thy unknown Ch5: Tokusatsu Haunting 1: Sea Bindweed and Sensitive Plant

Maya was getting a headache. Words swam in front of her eyes, black ants crawling across a white sand pit. She wanted to bury herself alive and sink into nothingness.

"Maya, c'mon now, answer me."

She groaned as Nick called to her, phasing through the kitchen table so he sort-of blocked her view of the offending textbook. "Why though?"

"Because you promised. We get through ten of these and you're free until lunchtime. You've got three more." He could cajole as much as he wanted, she wasn't going to like it any more even if he begged her.

"But it sucks and it's early and I've barely eaten and—"

"And this week's episode of Steel Samurai is on the DVR and if you finish this we can watch and you can explain to me why you like it after you've digested the story for an hour or so." Stubborn ass.

"Fine..." Maya blinked until the words on the paper resolved themselves into something readable. "So the difference between battery and assault is actually injuring someone or not. Assault is threatening, battery is attacking, but both can be charged as a felony if a firearm or other illegal weapon is used during the act."

"Larceny, burglary, and robbery?"

More terms. "Larceny is just theft—taking things from people. Grand or minor larceny based on how much was stolen, what have you. Burglary is forcing entry to a place and stealing, whether or not someone is there. Robbery is stealing using force, like mugging someone could be charged as either theft and assault or robbery depending on things, right?"

"If you're lucky and have a good defense or a bad prosecutor, yeah. It's usually charged as robbery since intent to harm while stealing is as good as causing harm while stealing. They don't differentiate between assault and battery where theft is concerned." Nick seemed amused that she had even thought about that. "One more and this one is easy: manslaughter and murder."

It sure was easy. "Murder requires intent to kill, whether planned or in the heat of the moment. Manslaughter is an act, violent or otherwise, that results in death, like a hit and run. Aren't they a little nebulous though?"

"Yeah. You can argue second-degree murder down to manslaughter, you can argue manslaughter caused through planned battery up to first-degree murder. It's all how you spin it and how the court views the actions taken. Self defense usually is manslaughter." He frowned as he thought something over. "But, again, it's a little wiggly, like you said."

"Which was bad for me and good for Prosecutor Edgeworth, not that he won..." Maya mumbled as she laid her head down on her arms. She could feel Nick's piercing gaze, the unspoken admonishment let to drift in the wind.

She'd done as was asked, hadn't she? Maya rolled her head so she could give Nick puppy-dog-eyes.

He snorted and floated down so he looked like he was sitting at the table with her. "That is all ten."

"So I can watch my taped episode?"

"Breakfast, dishes, then yes." Wow, thanks mom.

"I'm only doing this because you'll haunt me well into the night if I don't, mister incorporeal." Maya stood up and popped her back, sighing in amusement. Living with a ghost wasn't the most normal circumstances but after...everything, it was a welcome oddity. A comforting weirdness. Nick kept her in line, made sure she did all the proper adult things to keep up and running, and she kept him focused on the now with her company.

After the trial ended, it took a week or so before the Fey & Co. Law Office was cleared out and available as a working space again—after a very thorough cleaning courtesy of the state, of course. During that week or so, Maya tended to Mia's funeral and estate—nobody came to the former, she was the sole inheritor when it came to the latter. Getting access to Mia's apartment through her—Maya's now, really—landlord was a mess but she moved in as soon as she could and tried to not break down every time she opened a cabinet and saw Mia's coffee cups.

Barely a few days after everything was sorted and Maya had begun making the apartment more her living space than a museum to her sister, a call came in on the office line and Maya was summoned to testify in court in the case of the State v. Redd White.

Being on the witness stand was significantly different than being on the defendant's chair or in the defendant's bench. It was nerve-wracking, sure, but Prosecutor Edgeworth was somehow more tolerable when she wasn't the one in his crosshairs. It was almost amusing to watch the rich, well-to-do lawyer trip over their expensive brand name shoes to try and talk down the charges.

Maya's testimony, the pictures of her face taken after the trial, Gumshoe's corroboration, several anonymous (or redacted) reports of threats and blackmail, and April May's affidavit regarding her employment with Bluecorp and its inner working all dug him a one-way ticket to jail for life. If he was lucky, he'd never leave.

He looked defeated as they hauled him off to ship him from the center to the prison. Maya couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry for him.

Becoming an accredited defense attorney was the difficult part of the whole plan. Proving she had been homeschooled in what constituted as a traditional territory and providing proof of residency in Kurain was most of the legwork. With proof in hand, and permission from the Bar Association to take it out of season, the test was comically easy in comparison. Nobody needed to know she cheated, either! She was sworn in a few days ago and had even gone out and bought some new casual clothes to celebrate! She had real lawyer outfits that wouldn't get her stared at in the court!

Then she realized that being a defense attorney was a lot of waiting for someone to call your office to ask you to help them, instead of the more active lie she'd been believing. So most of her days were spent studying the well-worn law books Mia had in her office while Nick quizzed her to make sure she was retaining what she read. It was boring, for sure, but it was a new type of boring.

(Maya kept expecting Aunt Himiko to call but she never did. Neither did Pearl, but that was less Pearl's fault and more likely Aunt Himiko being a little controlling. Sometimes she got nauseatingly homesick and would leave Japanese dramas on TV in the background for the simple comfort of hearing people talk in Japanese. Nick always looked uncomfortable, like he wasn't sure how to handle her when she got like that but she wasn't something that needed to be handled, she just...needed a moment.)

Maya shoveled a spoonful of cereal in her mouth as she watched the Steel Samurai fight the Jade Turtle in his underwater palace. Despite how much she had been looking forward to this episode, her brain was still leaking out her ears. She couldn't focus on anything, even the things she liked.

Frustrated, Maya stopped the recording and threw on the news while she washed the dishes so Nick didn't complain all day. The weather looked like it was gonna be sunny for this time of year. That's nice.

Getting old snuck up on you, Maya determined. She had been living independently for a little over two months and she already cared about things like the weather. Yuck. Adding on worrying about bills and the idea that she had a commute to work now and she was seconds away from rapidly aging to dust.

Without cases coming in, Maya had to think about eventual second jobs—if things continued the way they were, that is. Like before, retail and customer service might not be good fits but they'd be easy to get. If she was going to work for minimum wage and maximum emotional distress, she'd like to work somewhere she doesn't hate but apparently Eldoon's wasn't hiring anyone since it was family-owned and her usual burger joint didn't need any more waitresses or hostesses.

Elbows-deep in bubbly warm water, Maya was startled out of her reverie by someone on TV saying the phrase 'Steel Samurai'. She tuned in on what the anchors were saying and was very glad she wasn't holding anything when she realized what was going on or she might've broken one of the nicer bowls.

The actor who played the Steel Samurai was just arrested for the murder of his coworker, the guy who played the Evil Magistrate. This had to be fate.

"Nick?!" One of the benefits to living alone was that she could openly talk to her ghost friend without worrying about someone staring. It didn't mean that her shouting across the apartment didn't startle him, however. Judging by the speed at which he flew through the bedroom wall, he must've thought she'd hurt herself or broken something. A fair assumption.

"What?" His blank eyes were wide, searching for whatever trouble she was in.

Maya waved at the TV. "Do you know what I heard?" When he didn't respond immediately, she continued, bouncing in place. "They arrested the Steel Samurai."

"The...character?" Nick seemed confused.

"The guy who plays him! They arrested him for murder!"

"Is that why you shrieked like you were dying?" Cute.

"No! No but like, Nick—" Was he not understanding what this meant? "—Nick he's in a holding cell right now! He's gonna need a lawyer!"

"Wh—Maya, this isn't some kind of game." He folded his arms and tilted himself so he was looking down his nose at her, stern. The whole effect was ruined by how he was dressed and it was undercut by the sharp spike of frustration that tore through Maya at his accusation.

"What makes you think I think it's a game?"

"I know you like the Steel Samurai but you've only been studying for a little while and—"

"Nick, I'm not playing. I'm accredited, aren't I?" Legally, yes. The technicality didn't matter much when she and Nick were a unit—a single lawyer. "And we haven't had a single client for the last month."

"Mia's clients were pretty sparse too—"

"Nick, I'm not Mia, I'm me. And I want to take this case." Maya made eye-contact with him and held it, an act he knew was a challenge. "I like the Steel Samurai, yeah, but I also want to help him. Don't I have the right to choose my clients too?"

Nick sighed and floated down a little bit so he was looking straight at her. "You're certain you want to do this?"

"Very."

"This is a murder case, like yours was. Do you think you can handle that?" He was being firm with her. He was almost never this firm. He was worried.

Could she handle a murder? She handled being on the stand for Redd White well enough. She hadn't broken down or cried or anything, had she? But defending someone for murder...that was a different beast.

She wanted to help him like his show had helped her. She nodded at Nick, who seemed to roll his thoughts around a bit before speaking again.

"In the chance that your client is guilty, what are you going to do?"

She hadn't thought about that. If he was guilty...would she still want to defend him? No, that wasn't the question. The question was: if he was guilty, what would she do, not would she continue to defend him. "I would try and work out a plea that satisfies both my client and the prosecution."

"And in the case that your client is innocent and you find yourself incapable of defending them properly?"

"I would suggest a different attorney and give all of my findings and documents to them." Because if she couldn't defend her client, she wanted her work to be worth something.

Nick closed his eyes for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again. "Okay." Approval. Yes! Before Maya could say anything in her excitement, he continued on. "But promise me you're going to be smarter about this one. No mouthing off to dangerous people this time. Gumshoe won't always be around to save you."

"Isn't he a homicide detective? He should be around."

"That's not the point. C'mon now, please?"

"Okay, okay." She wasn't sure why he was being so touchy about this. It's not like Redd White was going to kill her or anything. He was being a worrywart. "I promise I'll be safe."

"I'm serious. I might be around but I can't help if the problem is physical." He was still upset about the whole thing with Redd White then.

"I know." She did, really. She didn't blame him for his inability to interact with the physical world. It was part and parcel of being a ghost, after all. The fact that he was still around as a fuyūrei was nothing short of miraculous but miracles only went so far. Fate hadn't seen fit to make him a poltergeist. "I'll be smart."

That got a laugh out of him. "Sure you will." Even as he said it, however sarcastically, Maya could feel him relax. "Well the detention center opens at nine. That means we have two hours before we can see your Steel Samurai. Wanna finish the dishes and explain why you like it better than, say, Rainbow Warriors?"

Maya puffed her cheeks at him, pouting. "Rainbow Warriors is a show for babies and I will not have you slander the good streets of Neo Olde Tokyo with your bad taste." Even so, she continued on as she went back to the dishes, the tension dissipating, leaving behind anticipation.

Her first real client (maybe)! Her first not-herself client (possibly)! And it was the Steel Samurai! That was something to be proud of! She was gonna do great!

"I'm sorry..." Will Powers—the Steel Samurai actor—hunched in on himself and stared at a spot on the floor. For a man easily twice Maya's size, he sure was meek.

"Like I said before: it's no big deal. You never really appeared in public without the costume on so it was a surprise, nothing more." Maya waved her hand, trying to assuage his fears. He just whined a bit and hunched more in on himself.

Will Powers was somewhat of a Cowardly Lion sort, really. Despite his large size and intimidating stature, he tried to take up as little space as possible. He didn't like making eye-contact with Maya and barely spoke above a mumble. He was also barely older than Nick was when he died, which was the biggest shock—Will Powers looked very much like a man in his thirties but he was in his early twenties.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Nick muttered to himself, "but this certainly wasn't it."

"Powers-san," straight to business, no messing about for ol' Maya the Actual Lawyer™, "we've gotten a bit off-topic."

"Right."

"So you've been formally charged with the murder of your coworker, Jack Hammer, correct?" Nick had made sure she knew what Will Powers had been arrested for before they arrived at the detention center. Turns out, rote memorization of law did, in fact, carry over to a better short term memory recall. Who knew?

Will Powers nodded, his eyes swimming with tears. "But I didn't do it! I was napping at the time of the murder!"

"The problem, Powers-san, is that you have no alibi past your word." In her peripheral, Nick nodded at her in agreement. "That, unfortunately, won't fly in court." Not with the way the legal system was currently structured, or so Nick said.

"I know." He sounded defeated before the trial had even begun. "What else do I even have to offer? Apparently someone saw me out and about, even though I was sleeping in my dressing room!"

"Well, if you accept my services, then I would go investigate the crime scene and collect evidence to prove your innocence." Will Powers hadn't quite hired Maya yet but she was hopeful. That's part of why she was trying so hard to sound professional about it. Nobody would hire some kid but if she sounded like she knew what she was doing, then her age wouldn't matter.

Will Powers mulled over her offer, his brow furrowing while he pondered. When your life was on the line, rash decisions were a bad idea and he seemed like he was a cautious man to begin with. She didn't expect him to have an answer immediately but the fact that he hadn't been too bothered by her age when he was told a lawyer was here for him did wonders for her ego.

"He says he was asleep but someone saw him? That's strange." Nick was already running over the facts aloud, sitting cross-legged in the air while they waited for Will Powers to come to a conclusion. "An eyewitness account is damning but also it's a movie and TV set, isn't it? Costumes can't be hard to get duplicates of and wear around to falsify someone's position, can they?"

The Steel Samurai costume was a heavy number with a full mask. Most actors didn't like or were incapable of properly moving in costumes like that without extensive training, which is why the fact that Will Powers and Jack Hammer did their own stunts and fights was so fascinating. Sure, someone could steal a costume and wear it, but it'd be a heavy and claustrophobic thing tailored for a man of Will Powers' build and strength.

"Okay."

Maya's focus snapped to Will Powers. Wait...had he—? "Huh?"

"I'll hire you. You - you came to me, chose to believe in me with no proof. That's...even if you are a fan that's, uh, that means a lot." Despite the fact that he seemed so sure of his decision, Will Powers was still mumbling and muttering, his speech soft and unclear. But he had! He was hiring her! "So I'll be, uh, taking your services...after...all..."

"You won't regret it, Powers-san!" Maya almost leapt out of her chair. The larger man flinched back and Maya withdrew a bit so she wasn't upsetting him and pulled the paperwork for representation out of her sash. "If you could sign this after reading, I'll file this with the court and get to investigating right away."

Will Powers looked over the paperwork and quickly signed on the dotted line, sliding it back to her through the slot in the glass. "Th-thank you for this."

"Of course!" Maya beamed. That bolstered his spirits, it seemed, as he responded with an equally bright grin. "I'll keep you updated and, in the chance that I'm unable to come by again before visiting hours are over, we can discuss the details before your trial tomorrow. It's gonna be fine, Powers-san, I promise."

The smile he gave her felt tired but sincere. "Is there anything else I can - I can help you with?"

"Could I have your memory of the day of the murder?" Making sure she knew what his alibi was, how he remembers things, would be the base on which she builds her defense for him.

"Well, um, Hammer and I did a run-through of some of the action sequences starting around ten in the morning 'till noon. The usual type of, uh, work. After that, there was lunch and I guess I was more tired than I thought because while there was a rehearsal at five, I woke up too late to attend." He fiddled with his jacket sleeve, picking at a loose thread as he tried to organize his thoughts. It's not like being on that side of the visitor's glass was easy. Maya would know. "When I walked out, tripping over myself to try and attend rehearsal, they just...arrested me. I didn't find out Hammer had been killed until questioning."

Maya watched as Will Powers' face went blotchy, tears spilling down his cheeks as he tried to fight his emotions. He scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve, sniffling hard. Her heart went out to him; this wasn't easy for anyone, let alone the defendant of a murder case. The accused.

"They probably weren't nice about it either, were they?" Could he tell she was sympathizing with him? Could he tell she had been in his place only a month before?

A loud, snotty inhale and weak nod. "They ac-accused me of stabbing him!" His breathing was shuddering and slow as he tried to get himself calmed.

Maya caught Nick's eye. "You should ask more about the victim." She should. Knowing that might shed light on motive—or lack thereof.

"What was your relationship with Jack Hammer?"

That seemed to touch a weird nerve. Will Powers flinched a little and went back to staring at the floor, sniffling as he tried to get his emotions under control. "Jack and I...we weren't friends but - but I didn't hate him. Nobody did. We - we all mostly felt bad for him, considering..."

"Considering?" What did celebrity gossip have to do with this murder case?

"Well, I mean, before his role as the Evil Magistrate, he was a big action hero." A starstruck smile split Will Powers' face as he recounted his coworker's portfolio. "He's always worked for Global Studios—he's the most senior person there aside from the producer—but he never seemed...happy with his role? I dunno why he stayed."

"And you didn't get along?" The important part was whether or not her client had a motive.

"No, we got along fine. We never - never really interacted outside of a professional setting, is all..."

Nick hummed in thought. "So no direct conflict."

"Was there anyone who might have had an issue with Jack Hammer?" Maya pressed.

"Not anyone who'd kill him! He was Global Studio's darling!" Will Powers was affronted, raising his voice for the first time since she'd started talking with him. He was angry, not on his behalf, but on the behalf of someone else. Hm...

"Just checking! Thanks for your time." She waved her hand, clearing the air a bit, and gave Will Powers a soft smile. "See you later, Powers-san."

"Yeah, uh, um, bye."

Paperwork in hand, Maya felt light as a feather. Her first case—first real case—and she was defending the Steel Samurai! What a rush!

"You seem in high spirits." Nick laughed from his spot above her shoulder.

"Ha ha," Maya replied under her breath. "Very funny."

"No, but really: you look excited. Ready to do an investigation out of cuffs?"

"I'm ready to prove it wasn't just a flash in a pan, yknow?" The thought put some pep in her step. "Murder case or otherwise."

"Thoughts?"

"He didn't do it."

"You sound sure of yourself."

Maya fixed him with a flat stare. "Nick, did you see him? He could barely talk to me and I'm five foot two. Solid foot shorter than him. I'm certain he couldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill a man he worked with."

Something weird crossed his face for a second but he didn't say anything else on the matter. Instead, he shrugged and asked, "So where to?"

"After I drop off this form? Global Studios. It should be closed to the public, right?" He confirmed with a soft nod so she continued. "Investigate the crime scene, talk to employees of Global Studios, try and see what the timeframe looked like, what have you. Unlike last time, we weren't there the day of the murder so we have to start from nothing." She was excited. It was like solving a puzzle.

"Don't get cocky."

"Me? Never." She laughed. He laughed too.

"You're so certain they'll let you investigate."

"Weren't you the one who taught me that, while the police don't work directly with the defense, all attorneys are afforded access to the crime scene? They can't tell me no." She paid attention to his lessons, no matter how much he insisted she didn't.

"Touché." He laughed again.

She was so excited. ——— "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: no lookie-loos allowed on the premises at this time! There's been an incident and everything is shut down for all the adults and that means you kids can't just waltz in here with your big ol' eyes all pouting and just say 'well I was told that I could—' no you weren't! I'm head of security and if you were told you could do this, that, or the other, I'd be the first one told. We've already got this place swarming with the force and I've run out of donuts but overall I just can't handle some third party being introduced just to cause me grief! After all, I'm already grieving my poor Hammer—"

"Ma'am!" Maya finally managed to get a word in edgewise. The old security woman huffed, breathing heavily as she glared at Maya but she didn't care. She just wanted to take advantage of the silence. "I have proof of representation. I'm asking to be allowed in because I'm Will Powers' lawyer."

The security woman held out a bony hand and Maya handed her a copy of the filed paperwork. Her eyes darted over the fine print and caught on Will Powers' signature, face twisting like she ate something off. "Hmph." The paper was unceremoniously shoved back into Maya's hands. "Why didn't ya just say so, girlie?"

"Because you wouldn't shut up."

Maya swallowed a giggle at Nick's comment and managed a very level, "I didn't have a chance to when I first arrived."

Global Studios was a moderately well-known film studio but it wasn't large by any means. The whole campus was composed of about three large buildings—two areas used for filming and one employee area that contained the prop and costume departments as well as the break rooms and dressing rooms—and was around an hour long round walk if you didn't sightsee. When Maya had gotten off the bus, the first thing she did was grab a pamphlet with the layout of the whole campus on it and study it, trying to mark her path of action. That's when the security woman—Oldbag, if her name-tag wasn't some kind of cruel joke—power-walked over and started scolding her.

She knew she looked young and all—she was only seventeen—but Maya had hoped her wardrobe upgrade would make people take her more seriously. She'd exchanged her kimono from Kurain for a dress blouse and a long skirt, keeping her sash so she could have extra storage space for evidence. Her tall traditional sandals were exchanged for cute flats that had thin leather straps she could tie like laces up her ankles. She even had swapped her three-quarters-sleeve shrug for a suit jacket in her favorite shade of lavender where she pinned her attorney's badge to the lapel! She looked the part of a lawyer now and yet...Oldbag had assumed she was some meddlesome kid.

"If it's any consolation, I think anyone younger than the dinosaurs is a kid to her." It wasn't a consolation but the mean little joke did make her feel a little better.

"Well you should learn to speak up!" Oldbag looked down her nose at Maya. "And get a name-tag or a sign or something so well-meaning people doing their job don't mistake you for a loitering hooligan!"

This woman, Maya realized, was going to be a bit of a headache to deal with in casual conversation. Heaven forbid she be put on the witness stand.

"Sorry, Oldbag-san." Maya bowed to her, more out of obligation than anything else. The older woman preened under her respectful manners. Nice to know she had an easy way to butter her up. "Before I go into the studio and look around, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the incident and involved parties?"

"So we don't have to come back later, I assume?" Nick asked. Maya didn't need to answer him. He'd gotten it in one.

"Of course, ask away! Just make it quick."

Deep inhale, exhale. She's not even a witness. She's just a busy old woman. She's not that scary.

"What were you doing at the time of the murder?" Concise and simple, so Oldbag couldn't take it and run.

Oldbag scoffed. "My job of course!"

"Which is?"

"Is it a lawyer's job to ask stupid questions or is it just the job of the young ones? Maybe I'm in the wrong profession if you get paid big for bothering hardworking women like me." Thankfully this rant didn't go on too long. Oldbag sniffed and straightened her jumpsuit's collar, motioning with her hands as she talked. "I'm head of security. My job is to sit here and monitor who goes in and out, keep an eye on the cameras, and prevent snotty little brats from trying to get free photos or tours." On and on like a runaway train of thought.

"I'd bet whatever money that was in my pockets when I died that the age demographic for a B&E at Global Studios is an inverse bell graph." Nick snickered and, when Maya furrowed her brows to silently ask for an elaboration, added on, "Well, Steel Samurai is a children's show and Jack Hammer is an old action film star, not much someone in the teens-to-late-twenties age range would be into." Ah. That made Maya a statistical anomaly. Neat!

Maya tuned back in to the conversation in time to hear Oldbag finish her explanation with, "—and if I find one more candy wrapper in the woods I will personally turn whatever little shit that littered into a rubbish bin."

Maya nodded at Oldbag and gave her an appeasing, if not vapid, smile. "Thank you for telling me all that, Oldbag-san."

"You did ask." If she was pleased, it was hard to tell by tone alone. She had a very dry way of speaking and her volume and speed made it difficult to figure out if she was genuinely angry or just passionate. "Anything else or can I get back to it?"

"Uh..." What else? "You've been here a while? With Global Studios, I mean."

"Almost ten years, yeah." Oh wow. Oldbag must've seen the stars in her eyes because she smirked before continuing. "I've been here since the studio was doing the mid-stage Samurai films."

"That's dedicated." Genuinely, keeping a security gig—any job, really—for a decade wasn't anything to sneeze at. "You must've seen a lot of talent come and go."

"Oh more than you'd expect." The key to getting her to talk, it seemed, was buttering her up. Or just asking her the right questions. "I remember when Vasquez was a production assistant and Manella was a sweaty dork getting cease and desist paperwork from the local talent."

The idea of the lead show-writer Sal Manella being just some fan was actually fascinating but it wasn't a story Maya wanted to get from the long-winded Oldbag. "What's your thoughts on Will Powers?"

"Oh he's guilty for sure." Succinct. Maya took a breath to ask another question but Oldbag cut her off, continuing her once-complete thought. "I mean, really, the big lug is so ugly he can't even show his face in public and dear Hammer was always a handsome fella, even in his younger years. Powers was jealous, of course, and it's not like anyone had the raw acting talent of my Hammer but really, killing him? The man had seniority and you just stab him with a broken prop? What a petty boy. When I was his age I would've gotten my shit rocked if I so much as looked crossways at someone with more seniority than me at work, let alone attacked and or killed them. But really—"

"I'm starting to think Oldbag actually is her name, in some kind of horrible ironic twist." Maya grimaced in agreement as Nick started rifling through the security office to kill time. "Imagine growing up with the surname Oldbag and then you manage to hit your fifties and you are a certified old person. Like the oldest person to ever old person."

He really needed to stop talking while Oldbag was rambling. Maya had long-since lost track of what she was saying, silently praying for her to stop talking so she could press for info about Hammer, since she liked him so much.

"—anyway, that's neither here nor there." Finally. Finally she's finished.

Maya took a second to gather her thoughts before trying to talk again. The woman was a minefield of conversation. One misplaced word would set her off on a tirade. What did she absolutely need to know? What was worth braving the rapids to learn? Well, obviously it would be the victim. "One last thing, if you don't mind?" Please don't mind. Please, please don't mind.

"If that's really all, then sure."

"You said you're a huge fan of Jack Hammer, right? I used to watch his movies a lot—I think I have the collector's edition box set of the Samurai series, honestly. But what's your personal thoughts on the actor himself? You must've worked closely with him, right?" That was the right thing to ask about. Oldbag's face lit up and stars filled her eyes.

"Oh, poor dear Hammer." She sounded like a teenager talking about her prom date. "It's unfair, I tell you, what Global Studios was doing to him."

"Huh?" Even Nick seemed interested in what she had to say now.

"Well, y'know, my Hammer was a big star so many years ago. He's actually one of the oldest members of cast and crew here in Global Studio. Seniority aside, however, they're just not paying him like they used to—as if degrading him by making him act in that good-for-nothing children's nonsense as a villain no less and—"

"The main villain actor wasn't being paid well?" That was news. The Evil Magistrate was actually one of the favored villains in Steel Samurai—not Maya's, mind you, but that's because she had refined taste—and he was The Villain so why—?

Oldbag huffed and rolled her eyes. She seemed as incised as Maya was about the idea. "Not in the slightest! For some un-god-known reason, the bigwigs thought to reward his years of dedication with a costume that hides his pretty face and peanuts on the dollar, which means he was working doubles and triples and even picked up a second job to make ends meet and isn't that just so sad? That in this day and age, men of his talent are forced to scrape the ground for pennies? A shame, I tell you. A right shame!"

"That is weird." Brow furrowed, deep in thought, Maya rolled the concept around. A big name star paid pittance for a long running role in a company he's got seniority in. Who would kill a man like that? It's a reverse-motive, really. Anti-motive?

"In the end, how much he got paid doesn't matter now. They don't pay you in heaven." Tears shone in her eyes as she spoke fondly of the dead man. She really did actually miss him. Huh...

Maya bowed. "Thank you for your assistance, Oldbag-san. And for answering my questions."

"Hrmph. If every lawyer was as polite as you, I think the world would be a slightly better place!"

"If every lawyer was like Maya, she'd be out of a job. Dime-a-dozen attorneys don't get noticed." Nick's little comment got him a stern look, not that he seemed to mind much.

Maya sidled by Oldbag and entered onto the Global Studios campus proper, the pamphlet still clutched in her fist. Immediately there was a decision she had to make: go to the crime scene or visit the employee area. Try and find more information about the victim or verify her client's alibi.

Before she could actually make that decision, however, she heard someone jogging up alongside her. Heavy footsteps and heavy breathing. Nick hadn't said anything so they were likely someone they knew already; someone safe.

"Why am I not surprised you're takin' this case, pal?"

"Gumshoe!" Maya wheeled about and gave the detective a wide, genuine grin. He returned her smile with one of his own as she continued with, "Why am I not surprised you're here?"

"I am lead homicide detective for the precinct. It's kinda' my job and all." He scratched at the back of his head, bashful all of a sudden.

"He missed you, I'd assume," Nick offered. He was probably right. During the transition period, when she was handling Mia's estate, she had received a clumsily made bento and a card offering condolences from him. While he couldn't be there personally due to work hours picking up and his pay going down—which on the card was just written as 'extenuating circumstances'—he wanted to show her kindness the way most people did when it came to someone grieving a loss.

(The bento tasted great, even if it was mostly rice and hot dogs.)

"How goes the investigation?"

"You representin' Powers?" He asked a question instead of answering hers.

"Yeah? I mean...I am a defense attorney now. See?" Maya flashed the badge on her lapel, grinning up at him with all of her. It truly was a mark of pride. Like her sister, she was a bonafide lawyer!

Gumshoe leaned forward, squinting a bit, but the smile he gave her was proud and sincere and filled her chest with warmth. "Yeah! I heard. Prosecutor Edgeworth said his sister was furious about some girl from nowhere gettin' a cultural pass on the Bar. Said she was considerin' flyin' down from Germany to see what the fuss was about. From his side of the phone call, sounded like he warded her off, which is good coz just talkin' to her made him sweat. That made me worry."

Anyone who made Prosecutor Edgeworth uncomfortable was a friend of Maya's. She filed that information away for later.

"Sister?" Apparently Phoenix was unaware. Odd. He knew almost everything about the man, if his starry-eyed proselytization on the virtues of the Demon Prosecutor were anything to go by.

Because she didn't care about Prosecutor Edgeworth in the slightest, Maya chose to ignore the comment about him having a sister. "So how's the investigation going?"

Gumshoe sighed and picked at the bandage on his cheek. It was a new one, different from the last time she saw him, but was in the same place as before. Maybe he was just clumsy? "Could be better, could be worse. Nice to see you out and about without cuffs on. How's that feel?"

She beamed. "Feels way better than last time!" It really did. The cuffs didn't restrict her movement too much but being able to go places without an escort was nice. Freeing. She felt in control of things. "Plus I got to pick my clients. I chose Will Powers!"

"You like the Steel Samurai too, pal?"

"Too?"

Gumshoe covered his mouth and quickly looked anywhere but at Maya. As she tried to get him to focus on her again, she heard Nick full-body laughing about it. "Forget I said anything."

Oh, she won't be forgetting that any time soon, but she didn't want to make him sad. A sad Gumshoe wouldn't be any fun. So she placed her hand over her heart, her magatama cold beneath her fingers, and gave him a solemn nod. "Alright. My lips are sealed."

Gumshoe relaxed. Exhaled. Stood back upright. "Thanks." He seemed actually relieved. "Anyway, uh, what were we talkin' about again?"

"The investigation?"

"The investigation." He pursed his lips, the effort of organizing his thoughts obvious on his face. "It's lookin' pretty cut-and-dry. Only person unaccounted for was Powers, we got a picture of him goin' from the employee area to Studio One, the Samurai Spear was run through the poor victim, and that's that."

"My client says that, from around noon to five in the afternoon, he was asleep in the employee area." She did her best to reign in her bite. This was Gumshoe. He was nice. She didn't need to be aggressive with him.

"Your client was caught on camera, like I said." Gumshoe pointed over her shoulder at something. "There's security cameras that take still shots every time someone passes by. We got a copy of the one he's in." He rifled through his pockets and pulled out a black and white print with something written on the back, presenting it for Maya to take. "You can keep this one. I can get another, all I gotta do is ask nicely."

"I think Gumshoe might be one of the only good cops in existence."

"Thanks!" Maya gave the photo a quick look. It was the Steel Samurai, spear and all, wandering towards something. Judging by the camera angle, it wasn't the employee area, it was one of the studio lots. But it wasn't definitively Will Powers, it was just someone in the Steel Samurai costume.

Gumshoe must've seen the look on her face, the pensive way her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out what the deal was, because he also pulled out a piece of paper from a different pocket. "Autopsy report too. Up to date this time." He had the decency to be embarrassed about that.

"Glad to hear it." The photo print was folded into simple quarters and shoved into her sash as she looked over the report.

Victim: Jack Hammer (37, Male) Time of death: 10/15 at 2:30 PM. Cause: Pierced through the chest by a spear.

"They're so sure of the murder weapon, aren't they?" Nick mused.

"The, uh, coroner is certain that the murder weapon is the Samurai Spear?" That was the right word for the person who does autopsies for the police, right? Coroner?

"It was in his body, if you'll mind the graphic description." As if he just remembered he was talking to someone her age, Gumshoe curbed his language a bit.

"The autopsy says 'pierced through the chest'. Talking about it won't make me upset." Maya puffed her cheeks and frowned up at Gumshoe, who broke eye-contact again. The power she wielded over this man is amazing. "Besides: I need to understand what's going on to properly represent my client, don't I?"

"Yeah...I guess you do."

"So there's a security camera up here," Nick called from where he was floating. He was by the welcome arch, studying the camera intently. "Number ST1-307, it looks like? That might be what we needed if we wanted to pull a copy of the photo ourselves. It's a good thing Gumshoe is so nice to us." Even in the middle of an investigation, Nick was already running his mouth. He forgets, or so he says, that Maya can hear him. He's too used to thinking aloud, apparently.

It's still comforting, even if it isn't always helpful. It meant someone was there. It reminded her that she wasn't alone.

"Well aside from the autopsy report and picture, I don't have much of any use to you I don't think. The security lady was more helpful than we thought but there were only a handful of employees there the day of, so we talked to 'em, looked around, and now we're takin' a comb to the woods on campus."

"Oldbag was helpful?" It's not like she was unhelpful when Maya talked to her, just...hard to talk to.

"She gave us donuts and coffee too! Which was good coz my wallet is gettin' a little empty." Poor Gumshoe. Apparently being a homicide detective didn't pay well. "But she gave us the photo, gave us her testimony, and even offered to come to court tomorrow!"

"Joy." She was going to have to cross-examine Oldbag. Yippee.

"Yeah, I think Prosecutor Edgeworth wasn't too keen on it neither."

"Of course he's prosecuting this one." He is a huge Steel Samurai fan, after all.

"He asked for it specifically, actually. That's the third one in so many months." Was that odd? Defense attorneys picked their cases for the most part. Was it different for prosecutors? "The first one was your case, the second was Mr. White, the third is this one. Usually he takes whatever Miss Chief Lana gives him or whatever his mentor thinks would look good. He doesn't have an opinion about cases so long as he gets his verdict, y'know?"

"I'm sure." If he—or Nick—heard her irritation, neither said a word about it. "I didn't know that was odd for prosecutors. Picking cases, I mean."

"It's not unheard of," Gumshoe clarified, "just unusual. Especially for him."

"Is Oldbag the only witness you have?"

"Now I can't tell you all Prosecutor Edgeworth's secrets, pal!" He laughed at her attempt to change the topic.

"Not even for me?" How far could she push him if she made the saddest face possible?

"You're an attorney, aren't you? Do attorney things! You're smart." Not very. Ah well, it was all in good fun. "Can't sell Prosecutor Edgeworth up the river or he'll dock my pay."

"Fair enough. Fair enough."

Nick had drifted over to what appeared to be a very large statue of a monkey with a top-knot that had fallen over and was busy inspecting that—but not so busy to not smile fondly about her antics.

"Studio One—the place where the murder took place—is technically closed off to everyone but the police but I left the door open for you. Don't tell Prosecutor Edgeworth though, okay pal?" That was becoming Gumshoe's catchphrase. Don't tell Prosecutor Edgeworth.

To be fair: she wasn't going to. It was really nice having someone on the inside. Made her feel powerful.

"You know I won't."

"Thanks, pal." Gumshoe scratched the back of his neck. "I, uh, gotta get back to work and all but hope your investigation goes well."

"Me too! Oh!" Her exclamation caused him to stop his slow, sheepish retreat towards the woods on campus. "Where do I go to give you back your bento box? It was really good."

Something strangely bright, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time in their life, bloomed on his face. His hesitant expression was replaced with a bashful smile and he ducked his head down. "Oh, uh, you don't need to return the box or nuthin'. I have a million of 'em just sitting around from an old job I had. I'm just glad you liked it."

"It was really good food, Gumshoe. I needed that." It wasn't a tradition in Kurain but she knew the importance of it anyway, judging by how Nick had spent minutes staring at the bento like it was an offering on an altar. "I just don't want to keep the box if you don't have a lot. I've got enough myself."

"No, no, like I said: I got plenty, pal." Resolute and firm, Gumshoe refused a second time. "It's just a clear disposable container anyway. Nuthin' special."

Alright. "Okay then. Maybe we can get lunch or something after this case is done with. My treat?" She'd always wanted to say that.

He blanched and blushed, the colors rapidly cycling like Christmas lights. "I - I couldn't!"

"I insist."

"But—"

"Gumshoe, c'mon! Let me use my paycheck for something other than clothes and bills! Please? Being independent sucks because it's no fun!"

Gumshoe crumpled like a bad house of cards. "Fine. You got a place in mind?"

"Burger joint I'm a regular at. Me and Mia went every time I came around." Against all odds, mentioning Mia in this context didn't hurt. It's not as if the grief was any smaller, just that talking about her habits and little idiosyncrasies didn't feel like she was cracking her ribs open like an oyster shell.

(It was different compared to the mundane emptiness of missing her, the agonies of wanting to make a joke at her expense and her not being there. Telling people 'my sister did this or that' was a statement, a simple fact. Every inch of her apartment was a minefield but work, at a murder scene no less, was safe for some reason. Grief was a persistence predator. Work was a steady clip to keep her ahead. She'd go home and be caught in its jaws but for now she would take the yearning in place of vacuous loss.)

Gumshoe's expression softened. It was something between pity and understanding, sympathy and empathy. He had to be holding himself back from reaching out to comfort her. Otherwise, why would he look like that? "Sounds good."

She didn't try to keep him there, trapped in a conversation going nowhere. They were both adults! They both had jobs to do—even if it was a novel concept even now. "Good luck!"

Maya turned on her heels and walked to where Phoenix was poking around by the fork in the pathway, trying her best to not run away from the weird emotions nipping at her heels. To keep her hands busy, she folded Hammer's autopsy like she'd done to Mia's and put it in the inside breast pocket of her new jacket. Nick was inside the severed head of the monkey mascot, whatever he might have been saying echoing inside the plaster or concrete of the head.

Maya knocked her hand against the head, wincing at the flash of pain that spattered starbursts across her knuckles. Concrete. Ow. "Nick? Gumshoe left."

"Okay?" If she wasn't used to seeing him half-inside of objects, she might have lost it at the comedy of his head resting on top of the concrete—and probably rebar among other things—monkey head. "Get anything good?"

"Nothing you didn't see. Oh, but he did say that I had his permission to poke around the crime scene, so long as I didn't tell Prosecutor Edgeworth." She leaned against the monkey head. "So what'd you find out inside that?"

"Well, it's a clock, for one." Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on the sign it's body was holding that directed people to the studio lots. "You wouldn't be able to tell unless it was working or if you were inside it."

"Please don't let this be the actual murder weapon." It was only a joke but, between what she'd learned about the Thinker clock and Mia's death, she wasn't taking any chances.

Nick might've understood what she was getting at but he still managed to sound almost put-off as he replied. "Unless the top-knot of this monkey is secretly a bladed weapon, I think we've finally broken our weird clock-as-murder-weapon streak. It's a digital clock, same as the Thinker, and also it looks too heavy for a person to lift without assistance."

Maya crouched, dug her fingers under the chin of the monkey, and tried to lift it.

When she gave up, face a brilliant scarlet, ears ringing for the effort, Nick was giggling. "Like I said."

"Okay, digital clock, super heavy, anything else?"

If he cared that she was pouting at him, he didn't show it. "Well it took out a tree and blocked this whole path here." He gestured with one hand at the pathway leading to Studio Two. The dense foliage and concrete monkey's head made it impossible for her to see farther down the pathway. Even the railings on either side of the paths were crumpled like tinfoil beneath the weight of them both. "So it's unlikely that anyone was going to or from that studio during the time it was down."

"Do you have a way to know when that was?"

"Ask Oldbag." Yeah, she was afraid of that.

"Anything else?" The way Nick was grinning at her made her think the answer was 'no'. "Guess we'll never know."

"Coward."

"I value my time." Maya looked at the sign directing people to the two studio lots. Studio One, where the murder took place. Studio Two, likely cut off from the rest of the campus by any conventional means. The employee area, where Will Powers was taking a nap. A photograph showing the Steel Samurai heading towards the studio lots from the employee area at two pm.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She startled when he spoke, glaring daggers up at him. "I was thinking about the security photograph."

"What about it?"

"It was from that camera, right?" She indicated the camera he had been studying earlier, the one by the welcome arch. "But it's not definitive evidence, just someone in the Steel Samurai costume, with the Samurai Spear and everything, heading towards the studio lots. Everyone keeps saying Will Powers did it though."

Nick sighed through his teeth and floated down so he was standing next to Maya. "Welcome to law enforcement. With trials the way they are, it's guilty until proven innocent and first seen, first arrested. You've seen how biased and bad it can get, and White was an outlier. Not every trial has some secret mastermind behind them but almost every trial is going to be an uphill battle. It's just...how the law is right now."

"I've said it once and I'll say it again: this sucks." Maybe it was petulant but—

"You're right." Oh, yeah...Nick had been the defendant of a trial when he died, hadn't he? If anyone understood, it was him.

Maya pulled the photo print from her sash and unfolded it, studying it closely. It really was someone in the Steel Samurai costume walking on camera. It seemed almost staged, their hold on the Samurai Spear unnatural, their entire torso angled so the camera would see it all. On the back of the print it read: ST1-307 – Oct 15, 2:00 PM, Photo #2.

"Two?"

"It comes after one."

Maya shot him a flat, unamused glare. "No, I mean: this is the second photo?"

"I think the camera is motion activated. It probably grabs shots of everyone who passes it." It was a solid theory.

"But two?"

"Oh, like 'where is photo one'?"

"Yes."

"No clue." Super helpful, Nick. "But we can use that, I'm sure. If there were two photos taken, one before this one, then we can assume someone else wandered in and around. And in full view of the camera, so we can rule out someone sneaking around in the woods."

"They were doing action scenes early in the morning, then they were supposed to do the rehearsal in the afternoon. Between the action scenes and the murder, everyone should have been in the employee area, right?" She met Nick's eyes as she spoke, hoping he understood what she was getting at. Judging by the way he was gaping in surprise, he did. "That could be the real murder!"

"Or an unrelated and mysterious third party?"

"Who could be the murderer!" It's not like every murder was some kind of locked room nonsense. People could walk in and out of public areas—private areas too. Third party didn't mean unrelated, if April May and Redd White were anything to go by.

"Possibly." Nick frowned in thought. "So what next, Maya?"

"Uh..." They had two options, really. Either check out the employee area or the murder scene. Probably both. "Well it depends on what we should do first."

"First?"

"The thing before second." Turnabout is fair play.

"Ha ha." He was unamused. Sucks to suck. "What I was asking was: how many options do we have?"

"Two; the scene of the murder and the employee area."

"Then how about this: you go check out Studio One and I'll poke about in the employee area to see if I can find anything useful. In the off chance it's a physical piece of evidence or something we might want to...hold on to," steal for later, "I can tell you where it is so you don't waste your time rummaging through the garbage."

"Is looking in the trash a regular occurrence?"

Nick's face drew into a pitying grimace. "More than you'd expect but less than doing it for fun and profit."

"Weird." Maya tried to imagine her sister rummaging in the trash and couldn't. The two disparate ideas wouldn't reconcile into a single occurrence. "But that sounds good! I'm gonna try and be super thorough when I look at the crime scene so come to me when you're done, okay?"

He flashed her an 'okay' hand sign. "Will do. Don't die."

"I don't plan on it."

"Usually you don't." Even though his tone was light and airy, there was something tense and choking in his chest. She felt it slam into her own heart and wrap tendrils around it, squeezing and sharp.

Like the last time he said it, he wasn't joking. Not entirely.

People don't usually plan on dying.

Then they parted ways. ——— Studio One was a large warehouse-like building with a single entrance accessible by foot traffic. Maya was surprised to see that the door, while it had a card reader on it to prevent unauthorized entry, was propped open with a re-sealed can of brilliant jade high-gloss paint. That must've been what Gumshoe meant when he said 'I left the door open for you'. No wonder he didn't want Prosecutor Edgeworth finding out. If someone else had taken advantage of the open door, he'd be in massive trouble. As she entered the studio, she moved the paint can inside so nobody else could get in without a keycard.

Now nobody would know what Gumshoe'd done.

Normally, the idea of being inside the area where rehearsals and filming for Steel Samurai took place would have sent Maya into a hyperventilating spiral of delight but...

White tape outlined the place where a man had died. There was no blood—it's likely the costume absorbed all of it—but little white markers pointed to where the weapon had to have been. Cameras pointed towards a backdrop of Mt. Neo Fujiyama against the brilliant midday sky, framing the scene like the finale of the show in its entirety.

The Evil Magistrate was dead! All of Neo Olde Tokyo can rest easy! The Steel Samurai has done it!

He's dead! He's dead!

He's dead!

(She can't pull her wrists too far apart. The cold metal bites, the fangs of the law around her hands and she knows if she doesn't keep fighting she's going to be dragged to hell with words and money. Iron floods her nose and the raw skin on her cheek aches against the cold. She wants to cry but there's someone there, wailing for her, crying for all her own emotions are trapped in her chest.)

(Mia is laying there, slumped. Surrounding her is a puddle of blood, white tape framing her like rim-lighting, the glass from the light stand a shotgun impact mark. Her dead, sightless gaze catches Maya's own and she opens her mouth to admonish her, ask why she didn't save her, why she didn't show up sooner and—)

"—miss? Miss?! Are you—?"

(There are two ghosts holding on to Maya's hands, their grip steel and iron claws vicious and restricting. Her sister—her sister dead and gone and dead and not gone and she never channeled her but if she did she'd be so disappointed and Maya couldn't talk to her anyway and—screaming and wailing, her other hand phased into Maya's chest clutching and squeezing her heart to stop it in its tracks. The other is someone she doesn't know—Nick Nick Nick who is her friend her lifesaver an anchor to reality it's Nick look it's Nick he's here to help he's—and his sightless eyes bore holes in her head as his own agony amplifies her own.)

(Her sister is being attacked and she can't move her hands too far apart and she wants to help but everyone's eyes mark her as a killer. No one will help her but the dead. No one cares but the dead. All she has are the dead. She's dying she's dying she's—)

"—in, hold, out. C'mon now, Maya, breathe!"

(Eyes like flood-lamps, like spotlights, derision and judgment burning blisters against her skin. Paper crumpled in her fist as she spits bullets of black and white reasoning across a battlefield. Stop looking at me! Stop it! Please stop! I didn't do it!)

(She can't afford to be anything other than angry. If she stops being angry she'll crumple in on herself like a dying star. She can't rest until the killer is caught but he smiles at her like he's won and all she can see is white tape and blood and blank eyes and blood and blood and blood.)

(She wants him dead. She wants him to suffer.)

(She's suffering.)

"—there we go, slow and deep. You've got this."

"Do I need to get someone, miss?"

Two people, one familiar and one not, were talking to her. The familiar voice—Nick, it's Nick, and he sounded so worried for her? Why was he worried for her?—was instructing her to breathe. She followed his instructions, suddenly aware of how hard her heart was hammering and how much of her hearing was being consumed by a shrieking ringing noise.

The other voice, the unfamiliar one, was also worried for her but in a more impersonal way. "Uh, I don't know if we have anything that can help and they never trained me on this! Um...uh..."

She needed to assure this poor person that she wasn't dying, that she was going to be alright. Her mouth worked around the words, lungs filling with enough air she could say things again, and she managed to wheeze out, "Don't—" The rest of what she wanted to express—don't worry about me, I'll be fine—died on her tongue. She didn't have the energy yet. She needed a little bit longer.

"Oh!" Maya's vision swam, the blue of Mt. Neo Fujiyama leaving blurry streaks across the face of the other person. She couldn't make out details just yet. "You're okay! That's - that's great!" The poor person sounded like they were about to cry.

"In, hold, out." Nick hadn't stopped coaching Maya's breathing. He just continued on, uninterrupted. She focused on his words, closing her eyes, and breathed. And breathed. And breathed.

When she opened her eyes again, everything was back to normal.

Admittedly, she was on the ground—which was concerning, but her head didn't hurt so she probably didn't fall over—and her mouth was simultaneously dry as cotton and full of weirdly sweet and sticky spit, but she wasn't...whatever that was.

If grief was touching an active heating coil, whatever had just happened was sticking a fork into a toaster. Overall a terrible experience that sapped the strength from every part of her.

"Th—" Maya started to say. Her tongues stuck to the back of her teeth so she took a second and tried again. "Thanks."

"I'm just glad you're alright." The other person—the worried stranger—was crouching nearby, her eyes wide behind her large, round glasses. She looked maybe Maya's age, dressed in a striped shirt with a camo cargo vest on. Her fingers were covered in bandages of one kind or another but she didn't seem to be having issues in spite of that, like she was used to it. "You really worried me there."

"Didn't mean to." Maya was talking to both of them, Nick close enough she could feel the cool tingle of him against the nape of her neck. "I just...didn't expect to react like that."

The girl's expression twisted in sympathy and she fiddled with her ponytail. "Yeah. It's pretty bad. Or, was."

Maya took another moment before she tried to stand up, her legs threatening to give out under her. She leaned against a folding table for support and continued to meter her breathing. "Uh, sorry, I'm Maya. I'm Will Powers' attorney."

The girl's face lit up at that. "Oh! You're taking care of WP! That's good. I was worried." WP? "I'm Penny. Penny Nichols. I'm an assistant on Steel Samurai."

Maya considered bowing to her but Nick interjected. "Don't. You might pass out."

Instead she smiled and inclined her head. "Pleased to meet you Nichols-san."

Penny Nichols blushed so hard her freckles popped against her pink skin. "No no no, you don't have to be so polite! Like I said: I'm just an assistant. I make props and things! I'm just Penny!"

Whoops. Too formal. Time to diffuse the situation. "Okay, just Penny." Judging by the startled laugh that got out of the assistant, it was the right call. "Again: I'm really sorry about...that."

"It's fine!" Judging by the way her voice cracked, it was not fine in the slightest. Penny might've been close to joining her if she hadn't snapped out of it. "I thought something had happened or someone else had attacked you and I was about to call security."

Nobody wanted that, it seemed.

"I'm better now. Glad you held off, though." Going from that to Oldbag would've been...hell, probably. "Uh, anyway, do you mind if I ask you a few questions Penny?"

"Straight to work out of a panic attack." It was hard to tell if Nick was impressed or upset with her. Either could be true. She hoped he could tell from her expression that she was fine right now, stop worrying.

(Be Mia. Be Mia.)

"I already talked to the police but yeah! Anything for WP."

"You keep saying that. WP. Who is that?" Context clues probably should have keyed her in but her thoughts were still prickly around the edges so forgive her if she didn't put one and one together.

"Oh! WP is Will Powers. He's...," Penny tried to find the right words, fiddling with her vest zipper, "He's a sweetheart but 'Will Powers' is a mouthful. It's how he's registered in the actor's guild so I want to be polite and all, hence the abbreviation. He says it's fine." She stumbled over her words, tripping all the way to the conclusion. For someone who worked with stars, she sure didn't act like it.

Judging by the way he had reacted when Maya called him 'Powers-san', he was content with however people wanted to call him. "Oh, okay. That makes sense."

Penny nodded, her ponytail slapping her shoulder. "WP didn't do it. I know he didn't."

"Me too. That's why I took his case."

"I'm so glad! It's nice to know he has someone looking out for him, considering."

"Likewise." Wait, hold on. "Considering?"

Penny's eyes widened behind her glasses. "Oh! I don't mean—that is..."

"I'm not trying to pry." Maya tried to alleviate her discomfort. "That's just the second time someone has mentioned something about Will Powers and Jack Hammer, or something like it. I was just curious."

Penny's expression shuttered, her concern masked with stark disapproval. "Oh, I'll bet you heard that WP and Mr. Jack didn't like each other, didn't you? I've been trying to squash those rumors on the forums for months. It's such a mess."

Forums? Wait, was she big on the forums? Did she do official social media for Steel Samurai or was it a hobby thing? "Not quite, though I wouldn't expect you to be on the forums."

She hadn't meant to let that slip, judging by how flushed she got. Penny carded her fingers through her ponytail and stared through Nick—whom she didn't know was there—in an attempt to not look at Maya. "Oh, uh, I mean...look, it's not like it's official..."

"Do I look like a cop?" Wait, she was a lawyer. "Or a narc?"

"Where did you learn 'narc'?" That word choice apparently amused Phoenix to no end.

"No?"

Maya shrugged. "I took the case because I'm a fan myself. What you do with your time is your business and, unless it directly impacts my investigation or if it would harm or aid my cause, I'm not worried about it. Besides: it's a stupid rumor mill echo chamber anyway. Like the whole thing about the moon being an ancient ayakashi egg. It's the moon! There are sapient rabbits up there! There's no reason to also make it an ancient ayakashi egg! That'd be overkill and, for all that the show can be a bit much, that's too much."

That was the right thing to say, it seemed, because Penny immediately started nodding so hard Maya was worried her glasses would fall off. "Right?! Do they not understand that there's a rhyme and reason to the mythos of the show? Making the moon an ancient ayakashi egg would throw off the whole point of the Mutant Moon Rabbits and the Moon Rabbit Kingdom!"

Penny was like her! Penny was a huge nerd just like her! That more than made up for the panic attack she just had. They should exchange numbers to talk about Steel Samurai stuff.

"Earth to moon rabbit," Nick called out, pulling her away from her imaginary conversations with her new Steel Samurai fan friend. "The case?"

Right. The case. "Sorry, that was off-topic. Uh, right," Maya cleared her throat and tried to be Mia for a bit, "so what were you doing the day of the...murder?" She tried to keep from looking at the outline of the body so she didn't panic again. That shade of white made her itch.

Penny also tried to go back to being professional, though she was grinning a mile a minute. "Right, uh, that day. So I was doing set work, like usual. The action sequence run-through was for early in the morning so that there could be a break before rehearsals so I was mostly prepping the scenes."

"Just her?"

"Are you the only assistant Global Studios has?" Maya tried to not sound pitying but she apparently did a bad job, judging by how Penny flinched.

"The studio isn't doing...great. Don't get me wrong: Steel Samurai is more popular than ever, it's just...not enough to hire a lot of staff. I'm set assistant, prop department, and gaffer. I don't do active lighting all the time—we have programs for that—but there's very little on set I don't—or can't—do, so I'm busy most days. Especially shoot days." That explained the bandages on her fingers.

"Was everyone there for the action scenes or just Hammer, Powers, and the relevant staff?" Did they need the crowd and suit extras or just the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate?

"Staff that day was WP, Mr. Jack, security, our producer, Sal, our cameraman, stunt coordinator, and myself." Penny ticked each person on her fingers as she talked. "Most of our extras had filmed their scenes for the next batch of episodes days before so we only needed the big players. Off record: there's been layoffs so the whole place is running on a skeleton crew, myself included. The pay is good because it's more hours than I'd normally get, but it's exhausting. Every time I close my eyes I see the sets I've painted."

"Yikes." What else could she say?

"Action run-through and then break, right?" Nick prompted. Right.

"So the action scenes in the morning, then lunch break while staff set up for the rehearsal, right?"

Penny nodded. "Everyone took lunch in the employee area. After lunch, WP went to his dressing room and I got super busy making sure markers were put down and everything looked good and was greased and ready to go for rehearsal. I was actually patching some of the bit-part suits and running laundry when they found the body." Busy bee.

"There's remnants of t-bone steak all over the employee area," Nick corroborated. "Global Studio seems to cater its meals on shoot days. They haven't cleaned them up, either, but that's probably on the police's orders. Don't touch anything, and all." Good information to have.

"You said Will Powers went to his dressing room after lunch?" Maya got a nod in response. "Did you see him any time after that?" That was a shake. "Did you check to see if he was asleep?"

That actually made Penny blush. "No! He's one of the big names, the important ones! I know he's pretty cool and all but you don't go busting into someone's personal dressing room like that! It's improper."

"To her credit, and his, there's a bed in the dressing room. It's small, barely a cot, but it's unmade and messy. He absolutely was sleeping after lunch." That was a relief.

"Understandable!" Maya laughed. "I think I'd've done the same. I'm just asking to make sure I have the facts straight."

"I understand." Penny went back to fiddling with her vest zipper. "I just...you know how it is."

"I really do." They were, after all, kindred spirits. "And you're certain nobody else was around during that time? The run-through and before the body was found?" Best to check for her mysterious unrelated third party.

Penny looked strangely on-edge when she asked that. She kept glancing between an open grate on the floor and Maya herself, chewing on her lower lip. When she finally spoke again, she seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "I didn't see anyone else but..."

"But?"

"Well, I...sensed? Someone?" She shifted in place a bit. "I know it sounds silly but there's only so many people here and you get used to their noise and presence and all—"

"Oh I get that, believe me." A village of people, everyone knowing everyone, and a manor with only three residents in it. Nightingale floorboards and the sounds of the forest outside. Screaming cicadas and crickets and owls. Wandering a mostly-empty street but knowing there's a tourist in town because the rhythm of everything was off. "You didn't see them, though?"

"Whoever it was kept out of sight." Penny actively looked at the grate this time. "We get, uh, kids coming in from time to time because, y'know." The Steel Samurai's demographic. The inverse bell graph. "But I don't recall seeing anyone, no."

"I assume that's what's up with the cops searching the woods? The whole...fans situation?"

"Couldn't tell you." Penny frowned. "Not that any of them would be here today. School day."

"Has that ever stopped a fan before?" Maya joked, knowing full well the answer.

"No." At least Penny got the joke.

Speaking of. "That grate—"

"Yeah." She sounded somewhat resigned. "Security keeps demanding I close it because it's a hazard and also the kids keep littering but Sal..."

"I assume he's telling you otherwise?" Maya hazarded.

Penny looked like she swallowed something sour. "'Free publicity,' he says." She plugged her nose and, probably imitating Sal Manella, continued, "'The kids tell their friends they saw the Steel Samurai fighting the new bad guy and more people watch. Even if we aren't making as much on tours, our numbers look great. Win-win.' I think he just is living out his childhood dreams vicariously through them."

Maya thought back to Oldbag mentioning Sal Manella and cease and desist orders. She grimaced. "Probably, but he's not wrong."

Even though it looked like it pained her to say it, Penny agreed. "He's not wrong. The problem is: I'm more scared of security than I am in agreement with Sal so...I'm boarding this up later today. I sure hope nobody gets too upset by it."

"You're just doing your job." Unfortunately for everyone, Maya had run out of questions to ask.

Penny seemed to pick up on that because she had a question for Maya. "Is he doing alright? WP, I mean."

"Oh, uh, I mean...he's okay?" He seemed nervous but that was likely just how he was. "The detention center isn't a great place to be but they're pretty...tolerable." It suddenly occurred to her that she really didn't want Penny to ask how she knew that. "He seemed...he was happy? Relieved? That I had taken his case—believed in him."

"Good." Penny's response was surprisingly firm. "WP needs people in his corner. He's a good guy."

"He didn't do it," Maya stated again. Penny nodded in agreement. "Besides, the Steel Samurai is a warrior of justice, not evil."

"Powers isn't the Steel Samurai," Nick pointed out. "You can't make judgment calls based on predisposed notions you have regarding someone's character. Especially if it's an actual character."

Maya chose to ignore him for now. "You want to exchange phone numbers? I'd love to chat about Steel Samurai if you have the time!"

"Sure!" Penny pulled out her phone and the two quickly sent an SMS to each other. She beamed at Maya, the happiness tinged with tired optimism. "Let me know how the trial goes? I won't be able to take off."

"I will." Wow, working a labor job sure seemed like it sucked. "Thanks for all the help! Sorry about freaking you out."

"It's good!" And somehow, Maya knew she meant that.

Leaving Studio One, Maya and Nick headed towards the front entrance so they could catch the next bus back to the Office to organize what information they had. Maya was thinking about the missing first picture and Will Powers' alibi and Oldbag and how people seemed to think Powers and Hammer actually disliked each other.

That's why she didn't hear Nick until he cleared his throat and repeated himself a little louder. "You can't just decide that your client is innocent based on your emotional leaning."

That seemed a little hypocritical. "What?"

"You equated Powers to his character, the Steel Samurai. Because the Steel Samurai is a noble warrior of justice, Powers can't have killed Hammer. That's a false equivalency. You can't do that in court. They'll rip you apart." He was trying to help her. She knew that. It's just—

"Aren't I supposed to trust my client? That's an emotional leaning!"

Nick flinched as if struck. "That's not the same thing."

"No, I know it's not, I'm just pointing out that I'm not...I don't actually think Will Powers is the Steel Samurai. I actually believe in him. I just also..." Shame curled around her ears and cheeks and nape, flushing her skin on contact.

"Yeah." Nick let out a long-suffering sigh. "All I meant was: remember to watch how you say things, especially in a high-profile case like this one. If the prosecution doesn't rip you to shreds, the media will. There won't be anything left over."

They both were kinda bad at talking to people, huh? Maya stifled an amused laugh with a cough. "I get it. I'll try and be smart in court tomorrow."

"That's all I'm asking." And wasn't that comforting? Knowing someone was there without strings attached, at her side every step of the way? "Do you think you're prepared?"

"I think I've got the basis of a good defense. Barring something truly heinous or, I don't know, Will Powers choosing to confess and plead guilty, I'll be fine. It's not my first rodeo."

"You're right." That teasing lilt returned to Nick's voice and he grinned at her. "It's your second."

"And I'm only getting stronger and more formidable every time!" They passed beneath the welcome arch, the feeling of the security camera taking a snapshot prickling against the back of her neck. "Prosecutor Edgeworth better watch himself."

"I think he's learned to not underestimate you already."

"And he's gonna learn I'm a certified powerhouse!" Maya cackled. "I can't wait."

"Just remember that this is about our client, not your grudge."

No, that was fair. She needed that reminder from time to time. "He's innocent and I'm gonna prove it."

"I can't wait." Neither could she.

[pollywiltse]

Find A Grave has an entry for a Peter Laune who was born in 1750 and died in 1786 in New York, but I don't think it can be André's Peter Laune because Find A Grave also claims he had a son who was born in 1775 in France. I suppose it's possible that he is André's Laune and he was just the servant that André had at the time of his execution, but I think that's a reach. I think it would take more work that I want to do - and possibly access to records that aren't digitized - to trace André's Laune, but it's kind of annoying me that out of Ronald, Hatch, and Flexner, only Hatch even has an entry in the index for him. And it's just in reference to the execution.

I feel like it's really easy to forget how constantly these guys had servants with them because people then didn't think it worth mentioning because of course they did and people now don't have personal servants so it's not in one's mental image of, like, André and Despard being prisoners of war in the wilds of Pennsylvania until someone mentions in passing that they had their servants with them. (And trunks full of all their toys. I still think the way 18th century prisoners of war were treated is the funniest thing ever - sign this paper saying you'll be good and we'll let you wander around outside town with firearms. You're all adorable.)

Like had any of these guys ever combed their own hair in their lives? If you handed André a hairbrush and asked him if he knew what to do with it, would he be like, "Yes, I give it to my servant and he brushes my hair"?

(Also note that if you're having some servant put their hands in your hair every day, you're not going to have anywhere near the same ideas about privacy or personal space that modern people are, which I feel like is another thing that's easy to forget.)

Anyway Laune is a Huguenot (or maybe just a French?) name, so I'm curious if that was a coincidence (or if he even had recent French ancestry; John Despard was also of Huguenot descent but it seems to have been pretty far back) or if André wanted someone he could, like, speak French with.

[biocrafthero]

Kindly asking you to explain why you think basil would have a gun

Okay so the beetle that they catch in that one photo from the photo album (giant stag iirc) isn't indigenous to like. Half of the United States BUT the places it IS in are more red states (please note I live in a blue state). Red states tend to have gun laws that aren't as strict AND Omori is implied to take place in the late 90s to the early 2000s (headcanon 2002). Additionally Faraway Town seems to be in the middle of the goddamn forest, so it wouldn't be super uncommon to have a gun just in case there's any instances of aggressive wildlife (shit happens) (also the abundance of dead deer in Black Space wouldn't be surprising if people had hunting permits alongside the animal getting killed on accident like roadkill or whatever). The likelihood that Basil would be able to obtain a firearm is actually quite high. If either his parents or even his grandparents owned a firearm, he would probably know how to use it and would have access to it. Also, at this point the only person looking after Basil is Polly, since his grandmother has died, his grandfather is presumably dead, and his parents are completely absent.

In other words. Uhh. Possible local laws (at the time) and general geography would mean people in Faraway have guns that are easy to access. Basil probably knows how to use one (he is 16 during the real world events!).

Please note that the specific kind of firearm is never specified in the text, so most people would assume a shotgun or rifle of some kind, although it could easily have been a handgun in the original concepts.

(I would go into more detail with my thoughts rn but at that point all I'd really be talking about is suicide in graphic detail + exact methods and I don't wanna do that to y'all 👍)

[hecatine-writer]

Magic and Technology in the Kindaran Republics

For a long time magic was unopposed, the capacity to alter reality with will and ritual alone was unrivalled and in monopolising this knowledge did the Old Empire maintain its monopoly on power. The arrival of new material sciences, chemistry, mass manufacturing and firearms slowly chipped away at this power until eventually revolution took hold and smashed the Tyrannies into pieces.

Still Magic is still unparalleled in its capacity to enhance and combat otherworldly entities. And as such it's still vital in the preservation of society. Now at least far more people have access to it. Now at least the Masses can pull from it and not just some haughty nobles.

And because of this magic and technology are being combined. Now magic is being used to create constructs for technical acumen.

So roughly at what level is the setting? Imagine our modern day but just a bit more advanced. Prosthetics are becoming increasingly advanced, cybernetic implants are not just a pipe dream. Firearms are used but artillery use electromagnetic principles to accelerate their munitions. And some very advanced, special forces use human scalled coilguns. In trying to contain dangerous phenomena these same forces are sent in while wearing power armor or mechanized armor.

So do mages use these kinds of technology? No. While their armor and implements will use the fruits of modern material sciences combined with artificer magic, firearms are more dangerous to a mages then their enemies.

Lancers work by enhancing the strength of their armaments, the more they enhance the attacks the more strain there is on the weapon, the more moving parts there are in the weapon the harder it becomes to make it resilient enough to be used without exploding. Modern firearms often simply explode before they can ever be effectively used.

Unfortunately material sciences and modern magic aren't at a point where guns can be safely used by a Lancer. So they aren't. And Witches can just send bolts of lightning or gouts of fire or beams of superheated energy or whatever they please so why bother?

Perhaps one day it will be possible, but not today.

[mekanikaltrifle]

How does equinox and snakebite feel about guns

Equinox, despite being both English and French (and therefore not having free access to firearms normally), is actually more of a type to use them. He's got the advantage of having strange quasi-imperceptibility that makes it hard for non supernaturals to see him or really notice what he's up to, so the loud noise and frightening appearance of walking around in the UK with a handgun isn't as much of a problem to him as it could be. As it stands, British vampires really aren't expecting a hunter to be packing that way, so it's a great tool for catching the fuckers off guard even if it's hard as shit for him to readily get ammunition (being quasi-imperceptible makes it hard to order shit from anywhere or talk to folks that could sell him stuff... unless they're already supernatural. And then they have a great reason not to seel ammo to a hunter. Makes sense, right?).

Of course, he's not broadly skilled with firearms in the plural sense. Just his one handgun, and unsurprisingly he learned a bit about handling them from using stunt guns in his prior acting career. And you know he knows how to use them while leaping dramatically and so on, really can ham that shit up; he wasn't in high brow A-list productions, after all (think the Underworld or Resident Evil films).

Unfortunately because he's English-French, and operating in the British Isles, he is not ready for if someone levels a gun at him. Leather bondage gear is inadvisable in normal fights, but in a gunfight? oh boy. At least the vampires in his canon aren't all automatically resistant to gunfire, so that's a consolation.

Snakebite however?

They're really weird about guns. Very antsy, very uncomfortable. Maybe something bad happened to them or someone they care about at the wrong end of a gun, or maybe they don't like the mess they make, or the noise... or maybe they don't like how quickly they end things.

They'll keep their reptile-masked mouth shut to start with, but if you try to hand them a gun they'll make any excuse not to use it, even if things are starting to look really bad. Only when things are actually life or death will Snakey pick that thing up and fire it-- as a result they are dogshit with guns on the whole. Given Kindred are pretty resistant to bullets, the strategy isn't a huge letdown for a team, but it can and will have real problems sooner or later.

[azzminu]

Magic Missile Go Brrrr

Artillerist Artificer - 5 levels

Hexblade Warlock - 1 level

Order of Scribes Wizard - 2 levels

Wildfire Druid - 6 levels

Draconic Sorcerer - 6 levels

Core Abilities

The general premise of this build is that magic missile has one damage roll that we will exploit.

Artillerist gives us Arcane firearm at 5th level which lets us and a d8 to a damage

roll when a spell is cast through it once per turn.

Hexblade gives us hexblade curse that lets us add our proficiency bonus to damage rolls on

the cursed target.

Scribes grabs us the awakened spell-book which lets us change damage types to fire which

will be useful later.

Wildfire gives Enhanced bond at 6th level which adds an extra d8 to damage rolls when we

cast a spell that does fire damage while our spirit is summoned.

Draconic Bloodline gets us Elemental affinity which lets us add out charisma mod to one damage

roll of our associated ancestry. We would choose fire obviously.

Play Style

For our stat distribution only charisma has a huge impact on the build so we would prioritize

Charisma then either intelligence or wisdom.

Surprisingly this would work pretty well as a support caster with support spells that aren't

heavily dependent on our stats for DCs and attack rolls and use magic missile as our primary

damage source.

Supporting Abilities.

Because magic missile is hard countered by the shield spell we will obviously pick up counter-spell because who up-casts shield?

Distant spell, subtle spell and quickened spell will be useful.

Feats

Elemental Adept and Warcaster are the only ones that provide significant improvement.

And Magic initiate for access to the spell.

Items

I don't really like having builds rely on items as they are given at the DM's discretion but

a wands of magic missile is a possible addition. Unfortunately because we can't change the

damage type of the darts from the wand to fire we would only get a +6 from our hexblades curse

dart. At that point the damage become comparable to a fire-bolt. Though the damage of comparable

The fire-bolt is better as it consumes no resources.

Damage

With all our abilities and preparations we get a first level spell at 20th level that does

1d4 + 2d8 + 6 + Cha (5) + 1 fire damage per dart.

On average that's 23.5 damage on average, 32 damage maximum, 18 damage minimum per dart.

So at maximum we get 11 darts.

Which comes out to (258.5) fire damage from a 9th level magic missile.

In comparison Meteor Swarm does 70 bludgeoning damage and 70 fire damage on average.

Things to Note

Up to 6th level this build has comparable power level to other classes but from there it

generally falls behind until about 20th level where it overtakes them. Which makes the build

work best at either low level campaigns or 20th level campaigns or one shots.

If we would be playing the low level version then intelligence should be prioritized and

magic initiate might be needed for access to magic missile

I'm open to any improvements anyone has. I'm probably not gonna be able to play this anytime soon so if someone does please tell me how it fairs, how your table reacts to it, and how you improved it. Also how you role-played it cause I imagine the arcane firearm as a machine gun that was upgraded over time.