#gumshoe is always the first one to ask how miles is doing after anything resembling an earthquake
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fraeuleintaka · 3 months ago
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10 min is quite a long time to be unconscious for. Granted, he had nobody to help him but even during 3-5, the last time we saw this in effect, he was only out for how long it took Franziska and Phoenix to run to him so 1-2 min at most. I wonder if it depends on how strong the shaking is? The way he scoffs at the "slight" turbulence sounds like it does. I also wonder how much it has to shake to trigger his phobia. It doesn't specifically have to be an earthquake, something like turbulence is enough but turbulence can also involve a lot of shaking. We saw in 1-4 that he doesn't necessarily always faint but instead rolls into a trembling ball and isn't responsive anymore. Does that depend on the strength of the shaking as well? Maybe it just varies.
Considering how often Miles flies all over the world it's only natural that he would've encountered some turbulence here and there. The way he thinks about it being expected on a flight makes it sound like he hasn't encountered it that often before though that might also be him trying to calm himself down. Gumshoe immediately asks him if he was fine with the turbulence so either he's seen Miles' reaction to it before or he assumes, correctly, that Miles would struggle with it. I wonder if there are any other non-earthquake situations that trigger Miles' phobia?
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the-hidden-writer · 5 years ago
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A Second Chance: Chapter 1
An Ace Attorney fanfic. Read on both AO3 and FF.net!
Summary:  Miles learns the identity of his "dead" mother, and the aftermath of that revelation is a tricky one. Especially when his newfound little sister is trying to turn him into a spirit medium.
AKA Miles is a Fey. Miles also doesn't really know how to family properly.
[Chapter 2] | [Chapter 3]
Comments make my day! :D
The Box
Hazakura Temple was one hell of a case, and he’d seen some weird ones over the years. It was like fate how he, Dick Gumshoe, always got roped into those weird ones. Or maybe you could say they were the exciting ones. Depends on who you ask, he thought, as he climbed the stairs of Elise Deauxnim’s cottage- each step creaking dangerously as he went.
It usually wasn’t his job to search victims’ houses, but he thought this time he owed it to Maya. The poor girl lost her mother, and if there was anything in there he could give to her he would find it.
One cupboard at a time.
Even for a famous children’s author, Elise Deauxnim didn’t seem to have many possessions. All he’d found were books and clothes. Even her house wasn’t that big, though it was pretty secluded. Which would make sense since she was Misty Fey in hiding.
God, that was weird to think about. He’d read his nieces a bunch of her stories and secretly enjoyed them too. He’d never be able to do it without thinking of the author’s corpse now.
Clink! Thud!
The others were probably packing up the silverware to give to charity downstairs. Death was so strange… one moment a person’s there, living their life as always, and then the next they’re gone.
He contemplated his own death as he sifted through the belongings of Ms. Deauxnim’s bedroom. Nothing special. There was a neatly-made double bed with a floral quilt, a small wooden bedside table with a shaded lamp, and a few wardrobes full of various clothes.
In the final wardrobe, the small white one, he finally noticed something valuable.
Among the dresses and cardigans, somewhat hidden behind them, was a familiar lengthy, deep purple robe. Dick had been to Kurain village so he knew what it was almost immediately. At least he knew they were in the right house.
At least he could give something to Maya.
Gently, he tugged at the robe. It was stuck. So he pulled again, a little harder.
It remained glued to the rail.
So he thrust his hand far into the wardrobe, half expecting to find Narnia, and felt around with his large fingers until he had a fistful of robe. Sucking in a breath, he yanked it out.
Crash!
He cringed.
Good news: he had the robe. Bad news? The clothes hanger that the robe had been attached to had fallen to the ground.
Sighing, he went to pick it up, when he noticed that it hadn’t fallen on the bottom of the wardrobe. Instead, it had fallen on what looked like some sort of gift box.
Curiosity taking over him, he carefully took it out. It had yet another floral pattern on it (she sure was into flowers, huh) though this one was a lot more faded than the one on her bed or her curtains. On the lid, written gracefully in ink, was the word “Kurain”.
Bingo!
He crouched down onto his knees and slowly opened the box. Inside, was a folded robe- one much smaller than the one hung up. Maybe once belonging to a child? Under that was an old photograph of two girls, desperately trying to fix a broken vase of some sort. It was adorable.
There was also a small pendant in the shape of a magatama, which looked like it could open.
He tried to open it, but his fat grubby fingers kept on slipping off. Maya could probably do it.
Satisfied with his find, Dick leaned over (wobbling slightly on his knees) to close the wardrobe door when he noticed something behind where the box had been.
Another, smaller box.
He took it out, and immediately almost dropped it again.
On the lid, written in that same ink calligraphy was one word.
“Edgeworth.”
Dick’s eyes went wide. What was he supposed to do? Open the box? That might cost him his salary… but he couldn’t not open it.
“Sorry, Mr Edgeworth.” He muttered as he took off the lid.
He stared blankly at the box’s contents for a few moments, the reality of what was inside not sinking in, and after what seemed like way too long he finally uttered two words.
“Holy moly.”
He needed to call Mr Edgeworth.
~._-_.~
“Mr Edgeworth, Sir!” Gumshoe cried, thrusting open the door so that it ended up hitting the wall with a loud bang.
Miles winced and sighed. At least he could always hear Gumshoe coming, so he had a few seconds of bliss to mentally prepare himself. He clicked his pen and looked up from his desk.
“Detective.” He greeted.
What he wasn’t expecting was the large man to be noticeably more out of breath than usual, huffing and puffing with a large white evidence bag under his arm.
Miles couldn’t help but groan when he noticed the lack of label on the bag. “You’re not supposed to take evidence without registering it first, Detective.”
Gumshoe scrunched his nose in apology. “I know pal, but this is important, I promise.”
He flopped onto the couch and started to fiddle with the zip on the bag. Miles sighed again. It was evening, and since Gumshoe had been investigating Misty Fey’s residence, which was a good few hours away by train, he hadn’t been expecting a visit from him today. Not that he particularly enjoyed his visits...
Tapping his finger impatiently, Miles waited for Gumshoe to finally take out the contents of the bag. He was underwhelmed to say the least. It appeared to be a small rigid gift box of some kind.
“C’mere, sir.” Said Gumshoe as he thumped the seat next to him and looked up at him expectantly.
Miles relented and stood up to join the detective.
“You know,” he said, “when I received your text, I believed this to be something urgent.”
Gumshoe shrugged. “It is, pal. I wouldn’t’ve disturbed you if it wasn’t. Don’t you trust me Mr Edgeworth?”
“Of course.” He said, sitting down. Miles didn’t, but decided that this wasn’t the time to reveal that particular secret to his sensitive colleague. “So what is it?”
All of a sudden Gumshoe visibly steeled himself. His expression became soft, but his shoulders were tense. All of his usual energy solidified into something that resembled that of a detective’s. Miles had seen this multiple times before, and it was always when Gumshoe had bad news to tell. It was unnerving to see the man do it in their own conversation.
A bad feeling began brewing in his gut.
“So, I was checking Misty Fey’s house, right?”
“Yes.” He answered, a little too quickly.
“And… she was the one who channelled your dad, wasn’t she?”
Miles didn’t have to answer that. That bad feeling only worsened.
“Well uh, I found this and…” Gumshoe paused. “I think you’d better take a look for yourself.”
Slowly, as if he were handing something fragile to a small child, Gumshoe passed the ominous box to him and gestured for him to open it. What immediately piqued his interest was the fact that it had the word “Edgeworth.” written neatly on the lid.
So, with an unhealthy amount of caution, he began to lift it...
“Hey!”
...and almost fell off the couch at Gumshoe’s outburst.
“What?” He asked, disgruntled.
The detective turned to face him. “I uh just wanted to say, whatever’s in there, that I’m here for you Mr Edgeworth. Whatever you need. I knew you should have this the moment I saw it, no questions asked.”
“I see.” Was all he said in reply, as his curiosity was beginning to eat away at him with every passing second.
He opened the box.
...and breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been half-expecting something to jump out.
A bunch of papers. Newspaper articles, mostly. He recognised the majority at once- they were all reports of his father’s death. The DL-6 incident. He furrowed his brows, wondering why Gumshoe assumed that he hadn’t read each one of these articles a million times over already.
Then, whilst removing them, he noticed more faded newspaper clippings underneath. However, this time they were ones he didn’t recognise. They were far smaller, from a local company he hadn’t heard of, and difficult to make out on the yellowed paper. But they all shared one common sentence:
“Defense attorney Gregory Edgeworth wins case.”
The original shock wore off quite quickly as soon as he thought through it logically. Reading them one by one, it started to become clear to him. It made sense that Misty Fey would have researched his father’s career- the police asked her to channel his spirit after all. And his father was good enough of a defence attorney to have various reports written about him.
This box was nothing more than an accumulation of research resources.
Through the corner of his eye he noticed that Gumshoe was still fiddling with his hands nervously. The detective caught his gaze and nodded at him to look further into the box. Obviously he hadn’t come across what he wanted to show him yet.
Great.
He tentatively took out those newspapers, flicking through them with his pale fingers to be certain that he hadn’t missed anything. See, newspaper clippings made sense for research.
What didn’t make sense was what was lying beneath them.
A photograph. Slightly crumpled, yellowed, and worn at the sides, but a photograph nonetheless. Yet the quality of the picture was of no interest to Miles. No, what immediately caught his attention was the pair of smiling faces.
The photo was of a young man and woman. His father and a woman, with one arm wrapped lovingly around his waist and a head resting on his tall shoulder. Dad and…
He gulped.
“...Misty Fey?”
He phrased it as a barely audible question, even though he knew deep down that Gumshoe was as in the dark as he was. The poor detective nodded anyway.
Adjusting his posture to rest his elbows on his knees, Miles used both hands to grip the photo tightly as if it would disintegrate in his hold.
It didn’t. It was real.
“How… how did they know…”
Again, he knew Gumshoe didn’t have a clue. He just needed to get the words out. He had a tiny, impossible suspicion that was starting to make him feel sick.
“Um, sir?”
His head snapped to look at Gumshoe, who yet again nodded towards the box. Miles just stared at it in fear.
What other secrets could this damn box possibly hold?!
Turns out, it was an open envelope. Miles braced himself to perhaps learn something new about his father. He took it out and turned it over. And almost had a heart attack.
It was addressed: “To Miles.”
Enough was enough. Quickly, Miles threw the envelope face down, held his head in his hands, and let out an odd whimpering sound.
He could sense Gumshoe shuffling towards him and could visualize him outstretching his arms.
“Don’t.” He commanded weakly, to no avail. He was still engulfed in the detective’s arms.
“Did you read it?” Dick asked softly.
“No.” Miles replied, then thought for a second. “...Did you?”
Gumshoe took his arms away from him in order to scratch the back of his own head nervously. “I couldn’t help it. If ya want I can tell you what’s on it, but I think you should read it yourself.”
Miles sniffed. He was starting to get emotional over what was probably nothing, or at least that’s what he told himself. He tried to pull away from the bigger man but didn’t really care that much at that point. He’d already read it without his permission.
He made a mental note to cut his salary later.
With a deep breath, he removed the mysterious letter.
Slightly smudged, it was written in the same calligraphic handwriting that was on the box lid.
“Dear Miles,
I’m sorry for not writing to you sooner. My name is Misty. I heard about what happened to your father, and I would like to be the first one to express my sympathies to you. He was an amazing man, the best I have ever met, and you should think yourself extremely lucky to have been able to meet him.
I want to tell you something dear, something very important. I am your mother, Miles. From what I understand, your father had told you that I died when you were young. I am so very sorry that we had to lie to you, but I’m afraid we had no choice. We are not allowed to stay together. I do love you Miles, and I always will. But the situation is very complicated at the moment.
Bad people are chasing me, so I have to run away- which means I can’t come and see you. Believe me, If I could then I would just snap my fingers and come and take you home to your sisters. That’s right, you have two sisters! A sensible older sister called Mia, and a little cheeky scamp called Maya. I’m so very sorry to say that we had to lie to them in the same way. They both believe their father died, and they don’t know that they have a brilliant brother called Miles.
Please don’t come and find me. I promise that when the bad people stop chasing me, I will come to you. Until then, stay strong. Your father would not have wanted you to be so upset over him.
Don’t forget that I love you Miles. You’re not alone. Love Misty.”
“Sir?” He thinks Gumshoe asked, but his vision was so misted over and his ears were ringing so much that he couldn’t be sure.
Miles barely registered Gumshoe holding him as he began to sob.
This was going to change everything.
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