#tormenting klavier by popular vote

[dumbasswhatever]

a democratically elected day in the life of klavier gavin, part one

Klavier loved mornings. He'd always been one to wake early--and one to lay down well into the night. Sleep wasn't something he seemed to need much of, and today was no different. Once he drank some liquid gold from his far-more-expensive-than-it-was-worth espresso machine, he was ready to take the day on. His morning routine was done in a blur. Dog walked, teeth brushed, face washed, makeup applied, hair styled. All that was left now was to get dressed. And that, unfortunately, was where he hit his first snag of the day.

Today was a special day. It was none other than the eighth anniversary of his very first album. A day that was met with glee by his fans, and terror by the rest of the world. Terror brought on by his fan's covering social media in his music, his face, and, most importantly, his outfit. He'd gone viral exactly seven years ago for wearing an outrageous outfit to court, much to the embarrassment of the prosecutor's office--and his older self. But it had become a tradition. No matter what he had planned for the day of this anniversary, he would wear something shocking in public, and then pretend that he had no idea his outfit was strange in any way. (Really, his younger self had been very immature.) This day was one recognized by music fans, members of the city's legal world, and anyone who ever so much as visited Tweeter on 2/9.

However.

There is always a "however."

Klavier was 95% sure that a certain popular culture-illiterate, greenhorn defense attorney had no idea of this tradition. And the two were sure to come face to face today. This tradition wasn't something Klavier thought he could explain without sounding idiotic or vapid, and he didn't want to drive Apollo Justice (the object of his desires) away from him, but he certainly couldn't let his fans down.

But this was no reason to panic. Klavier's wardrobe was vast enough that surely he could find an outfit that would satisfy his fans without disturbing Apollo. So he calmly and methodically worked through his closet until he had a few options to choose from.

First, he had his normal court outfit. His prosecuting uniform, as he liked to call it. This would be his "wimp out" outfit. In case he wimped out.

Next, he'd put together something a bit flashy, but not all that bad. High-heeled, knee length boots definitely stood out, but Apollo might not ever see those if Klavier stayed behind the bench. Then he had a bright fuchsia button-up shirt (with only two buttons buttoned) under a black jacket. And finally, black skinny jeans tucked into his boots and adorned with plenty of silver chains. ("A bunch of preps stared at me. I stuck my middle finger up at them" entered Klavier's mind, uninvited.) This would be a half-hearted effort at satisfying his fans.

The third outfit was something more for his fans. The smallest black dress he could wear without getting turned away from the courtroom (he'd memorized the courthouse dress code). Under that he would wear shimmery purple tights, and then there was a small, black hat with a feather in it, just to make it more interesting. Yeah, this was definitely just playing into sex appeal, but it was easier to justify to Justice than his next outfit.

Fourth was the kind of thing he'd normally wear on the anniversary. He had it made specially for an award show last year, but he ended up skipping it, so it was still unseen by the masses. A bodysuit of purple, glimmery scales underneath a crop top and high-rise jeans. The way a dragon might dress to go to the mall with her friends. Actually, there were several other dragon accessories (including wings), but just the scales were probably strange enough.

And fifth was perhaps even stranger than that. Red pants, a white button up shirt, and a red vest. Yes. He'd realized he had everything he needed to dress up as his courtroom opponent. Really, he wasn't even sure why he was considering it, but it was in the running, too, he supposed.

[dumbasswhatever]

a democratically elected day in the life of klavier gavin

"But you'd wear them to other places?" Klavier asked, not entirely understanding how his mouth managed to form those words without his brain intervening.

"Huh?"

"You wouldn't wear them to court, but you would wear them to other places?"

"Well, sure." Apollo said. He then failed to elaborate.

Klavier hadn't been expecting to receive an answer in the positive, and he'd be damned if he gave up this line of questioning. "Where would you wear them, exactly?"

Apollo gave that a few seconds worth of thought. "My kitchen, I guess." Once again, he failed to elaborate.

Apollo's kitchen. His kitchen. What exactly did Apollo have going on in there? "Why… would you wear them in your kitchen?"

If Klavier was hoping for even one clear explanation, he was sadly mistaken. "Yeah, like you don't know," Apollo huffed. "I'm gonna go talk to my client." He then stomped away, perhaps not as loudly as Klavier could in his stunning black knee high boots (only $229.00 dollars at Lordly Tailor), but pretty loudly nonetheless.

Hmm. That had been… something. Klavier sat down and ran that conversation over in his head in search of whatever social faux-pas he had committed. And he came up empty. Sure, maybe he was a little rude with his first few comments, but Apollo didn't seem to notice or care.

Soon enough, a bailiff summoned Klavier into the courtroom and Klavier had to do his job. He managed to more or less bullshit his opening statement (he did have to guess the defendant's name, but he was always pretty good at guessing), but as Apollo was cross-examining Frau Skye, Klavier realized that Apollo refused to meet his eyes. Oh no.

[dumbasswhatever]

a democratically elected day in the life of klavier gavin, part two

Yes, Klavier supposed there was really only ever one choice. No matter what he did, no matter what arguments sprang into his mind, there was only one outfit he could wear today.

As he dressed up as his rival/coworker/crush, Klavier wondered to himself. Was this crazy? Or was it so crazy that it just might work?

Klavier examined himself in the mirror. Most clothes looked the best on him and him only, but this outfit was certainly not one of them. While the vest and rolled up sleeves made Apollo look ready for a fight in the courtroom, the same suit looked stuffy on Klavier, as though he was just itching to burst out of that plain, formal shirt. Klavier moved aside his tie to undo a few buttons. There. At least that would prevent something from bursting out of his shirt.

He moved quickly once he was dressed, not wanting to give himself enough time to regret his decision. But he froze on his way out the door. His hair. You couldn't dress as Apollo Justice without subjecting your hair to some of the strangest, most gravity-defying styling in the city. Not wanting to repay his hair's several years of dedicated service by subjecting it to that, Klavier pulled most of his hair into a low ponytail, leaving two chunks of bangs to frame his forehead. It was Apollo Just-esque, at the very least.

The drive to the courthouse was tense. Klavier thrummed his fingers against the wheel any chance he got, tapping out the chorus to "GUNNA LOCK U UP" (it was only appropriate, given the day). It didn't make him feel any better.

"THERE HE IS!" "KLAVIER GAVIN!" "OH MY GOSH!"

The parking lot filled with screams as his car pulled in. Courthouse security had given up on warding his fans away ages ago. He gave them a smile and a wave, allowing them to take in his outfit and snap as many pictures as their hearts desired. Their reaction was decent enough, they all began to shout and cheer and whoop for him. Whatever. As expected. He posed for them one final time before entering the courthouse and finding his way to the prosecution lobby to review the case. He'd been a late addition to this case, having only taken it from a colleague after they got a stomach bug yesterday Paint? Was that his name? Klavier could never remember it. But he desperately needed to go over the facts of the case before entering the courtroom.

But his heart stopped as he entered the doorway.

Brown hair. Red pants. The back of a cheap vest. Apollo Justice was standing in there. And the last time Klavier checked, Apollo was not a prosecutor.

In all fairness, though, Apollo didn't look like he wanted to be there, either. He seemed to be busy wrangling a bright-eyed blond-haired teenage girl, who was excitedly taking pictures of the whole room and squealing. Oh god. One of them got in.

And she spotted him.

"Klavieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer!" She sprinted in his direction, stopped only by Apollo's grip on her hand, and as a result, Apollo was forcibly spun around to face Klavier.

Apollo's reaction could only be described as "cartoonish". His jaw fell open far wider than Klavier thought possible as his eyes bugged out. His eyebrows shot up so high that his giant forehead filled with wrinkles. Apollo's features all returned to relatively normal proportions after a moment as he evidently processed the sight in front of him, and then, as one final crescendo, his whole face scrunched up in thought, which left him with a grimace even once he ironed his face back out.

Oblivious to the fantastical sight behind her, the girl continued to tug in Klavier's direction.

"Right!" Apollo yelled, filling the room with his voice. "We shouldn't be here."

A disgruntled looking bailiff dashed up beside Klavier. "There you are! Back to the defense lobby for you."

"Sorry." The girl pouted, but she waved goodbye to Klavier (who was still standing there as though stunned) and followed the bailiff out of the room.

Ah. That was the defendant. Fantastic. Klavier loved prosecuting children, especially ones who clearly admired him so much.

(That was a lie. Ugh.)

The sounds of the defendant chattering away to the bailiff slowly faded until they vanished, leaving Apollo and Klavier standing in the lobby. Awkwardly.

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Hmm. Klavier had really been hoping not to talk to Apollo one-on-one until after the trial. Or until tomorrow. Maybe weeks from now, really. That would have given him enough time to think of an excuse. But this? Apollo staring at him with those big ol' eyes? Klavier didn't have a chance. He would just have to wing it.

"Why, if it isn't Herr Forehead! I wasn't expecting to see you so early today. What a lucky surprise!"

"Uh, right." Apollo's eyes stayed fixed on him. "Why… are you dressed like that?"

Damn. Well, at least Klavier had tried being nice. Next up…

Klavier slathered himself in slime (just as a metaphor, of course, with a little alliteration). "Oh, this? You see, Herr Forehead, I wanted to try dressing more daringly. And when I thought of 'daring outfits,' I first thought of you. You're incredibly brave to dress like this all the time, you know."

Ah. That was… mean. Klavier almost asked for a do-over (how could his thoughts think that this was the right choice?), but Apollo didn't give him that chance.

"Hold on." Apollo's eyebrows knotted together indignantly. A terrifying sense of impending doom lingered in the air. Klavier was going to get his just desserts, and Apollo would get sweet revenge served cold, or whatever.

"I don't dress like this all the time. They're just my work clothes." Apollo snorted. "What, did you think I sleep in these?"

Thank you, Apollo, for being so dense. "Hm? Are you saying that you don't sleep in that?"

"Of course I don't." Apollo muttered something about rock stars under his breath. "Anyway, you're not even dressing like me right. What's with those shoes?"

Klavier glanced down at his platform boots. "Just a touch of originality."

Apollo looked at him suspiciously. He looked so small down there, woefully absent of the four and a half inches of black patent leather that Klavier had strapped to his feet. Like an ant. "I'd never wear those to court, though."

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a democratically elected day in the life of klavier gavin, part four i think

Klavier had never been one to let a little opposition get him down, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. He'd been a prosecutor for nearly eight years now, and he'd been a master of social skills even longer. He was smart. He could do this.

As the trial played out (Apollo, the Judge, and the detective mostly doing all the work-- who needed Klavier anyway?), Klavier allowed himself to venture into his mind condominium and viewed every hint and clue as though they were physical objects. He tried to connect each piece together in one way, then another, mentally striking out possibilities as they proved to be fruitless.

And then…

At last, he had stumbled upon what must be the truth. He breezed through the rest of the trial as though it were nothing (it was just a little grand theft auto case, who cares?) and parked himself in the defense lobby to wait for Apollo. What a cinematic parallel, he thought to himself.

Sooner or later, Apollo appeared in the door, thankfully without his defendant this time. Klavier gathered his courage, then spoke.

"Apollo Justice! I am sorry I hurt you! I should have known that high-heeled knee-high boots killed your mother, the Painter of Sound, Lamiroir. I never want to hurt you, Apollo. I love you."

Apollo yelled back just as passionately, "Klavier! That's not why I was upset at all! And if you were wrong about that, then I guess you have to be wrong about Lamiroir being my mother, too. But your feelings have reached me! I love you, too."

Klavier's eyes welled up with tears. This was it. The moment he had been waiting his whole life for. But…