Getting in the swing of things [OPEN]

[takethestairs]

WHO: Miles Edgeworth and you!
WHERE: All over Heropa! Specifically: the local library, a greasy spoon diner, and his own humble abode over in the Govt. Apartment Complex
WHEN: 11/17 to 11/21
WHAT: Edgeworth's finally settling into the city, and he does what he does best: research the situation
WARNINGS: Incoming existential crises



There's a table, near the very back, that's covered with teetering towers of books. There's a litany of law books, a hoard of history books, a barrage of biographies, all scattered and piled between miscellaneuos texts. No subject is too big or too small; politics and geography are the topic of the day, but there's also books on technology, literature, and even pop culture and fashion. Old newspapers and magazines fill up the negative space, and, if one were to look closely, one might notice an actual human being hidden between the stacks. He's a young man, with a soft face that places him in his late teens or early twenties, though his gray hair and serious demeanor add a touch of artificial maturity to his appearance. His fashion is surprisingly casual for those who might know him, his brocaded suit traded in for a pair of khakis and a pale pink oxford shirt, though it's a sensible enough choice for the Florida weather.

He stares down at an encyclopedia, scrutinizing the page before he flips to another, shifting his attention from the book to his stack of notes. The cycle repeats itself, flitting from book to notes and back again, broken only to check another reference or jot down a new line of text. The world outside of his table might as well be nonexistant to him, so focused is his attention, until the SNAP of graphite against paper breaks him out of his trance. Edgeworth glares at his now useless pencil before he reaches for his trusty satchel, tugging at it lightly... and forgetting the last pile of books that he placed so carelessly on the strap. It shakes, it quivers, and Edgeworth jerks forward, bracing the pile with both hands. It's...it's steady! Success!

The rush of victory is replaced by palpable embarassment, and he sits back down immediately, his face as pink as his shirt. He's just going to tidy up his table and pretend that never happened.

===



He's moved from the library to a local diner, and the piles of books have been replaced with piles of plates. There are stacks of pancakes, dripping with butter and golden syrup; sausage links, glistening with fat and still sizzling from the pan; hashbrowns covered with cheese, toast points slathered in jelly, and bowls of mixed fruit that seem to exist only to assuage feelings of guilt. A more current newspaper is folded and forgotten, next to an abandoned, half empty mug of tea, the only edible substance on the table that's been ignored. With a fork in one hand and his notebook in the other, he absentmindedly stabs at one of his sausage links, until the waitress comes by to refill his water. He clears his throat and gives a quiet, stiff, and apologetic thank you.

All eyes are on him now, or so it seems like. He doesn't normally eat this kind of food, and even if he did, he wouldn't eat this much of it... but it's hardly his fault! Extraordinary powers come at an extraordinary price, specifically in the form of infinite restaurant tabs and grotesque grocery bills. He simply cannot be blamed for this indulgence. And, to drive the point home, he gives a quick glance around the diner, ready to greet anyone who stares too long with a sharp glare. If not... well, then he'll set his notebook aside and pick up the paper, and return to his pancakes.

===



Edgeworth trudges to his door, a brown bag of groceries in one arm and a pile of books in the other. Shouldn't hyper metabolism mean hyper energy? So much for his file... he mutters to himself and shakes his head, with no other desire than to get inside and melt into his couch. He fumbles for his keys, doing his best to get them one handed- oh hell, the books are slipping out - okay, okay, he's got those, he's good...

And then, at the exact moment he slips his key into the lock, the bottom falls out of his grocery bag. The food crashes on the cement, starting with a bag of apples, but quickly followed by his pears, his celery, his meat and his eggs and his bread. And all he does is stop. He stops, and breathes, and closes his eyes, and pointedly ignores the yolk and whites and the entire disgusting mess that's pooling at his feet. He's calm, he's calm, he is perfectly calm and composed...

===



OOC: Don't like the options, but you still want CR with Edgeworth? Feel free to make up your own scenario, either in Heropa or in another city! I'll be glad to tag it back.

===

OOC: I started with prose, but I'm okay with brackets and action tags as well! Just tag me in your preferred format and I'll change to match

Comments

option 3!

[earnedmystripes]

[So Kotetsu frequents the Heropa Apartment Complex pretty frequently to visit his partner. He has a spare key, so he can basically come and go as he pleases, and today he's heading over there when he's distracted by a very familiar profile. Is that...?

Maybe. Maybe. Edgeworth hadn't made a post announcing his return, but he was doing the whole recluse thing because of his powers last they spoke, so maybe he's just getting readjusted first...?

Kotetsu jogs a bit to catch up with him before he disappears into his apartment, but it would seem Edgeworth's misfortune is Kotetsu's gain; the groceries come crashing to the ground and he has a chance to get a proper look at the man's face. It's him.

His expression is some odd combination of beaming and snickering when he kneels down at the attorney's side]

Absolutely nobody would judge you for swearing a little, y'know.

[He remarks offhandedly, remembering how Edgeworth tended to get on his case for his language.]

Here, lemme help.

[He picks up the bag of apples first, then gathers up the scattered fruits and the rest and hands them back to the other man. He's tempted to just leave the egg mess as it is, but Edgeworth and his partner would probably both judge him for that, so he'll grab some paper towel's from Barnaby's apartment in a minute.

But first things first:]

Welcome back.

Re: option 3!

[takethestairs]

[The snickering catches his attention immediately, and Edgeworth spins around, glaring sharply at.... the man offering help? Edgeworth blinks, not quite sure what to make of him, and stares blankly while he quietly accepts the fruit. Then, Kotetsu says the magic words - welcome back - and everything falls into place. He's someone like Graham, someone who knew him from his last vacation. Edgeworth's eyes widen and his posture tenses up, and, without even realizing it, he takes a step back.]

There's been a misunderstanding.

[His voice is tense, but firm, and he looks up to stare Kotetsu in the eye]

I don't know what you remember, but this is the first time I've ever seen you. So if you're looking for a reunion, then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed.

[earnedmystripes]

[Kotetsu's enthusiasm wilts like a punctured balloon at the look on Edgeworth's face. He recognizes it, of course; it was the same look he wore when he first arrived and people like Spider-Man and Yako and Karen claimed to know him.

Eye contact is rapidly broken, and the disappointment all but radiates off him in waves, much as he tries to hide it. They...hadn't been close, perhaps, but he'd trusted him, confided in him in the past...generally been at ease talking to him, even though they disagreed sometimes.]

...Sorry. I know it's a hell of a thing, some stranger knowing your name and face, saying they knew you before and you don't remember. Happened to me too when I got here.

[takethestairs]

[His expression softens, but not by much; the hostility, faint as it was, is gone now, but he keeps his distance. Edgeworth glances as Kotetsu one last time before looking away, and he distracts himself by opening the door]

Don't apologize. [That... actually came out harsher than he intended. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open with his foot]

You weren't the first person to tell me about this... phenomenon. I've been expecting a meeting like this, in fact -I just didn't expect one right now.

11/17 - library

[bratziska]

If I was Miles Edgeworth, where would I be? It had been the question Franziska had been asking herself all morning. She wasn't usually in the position of putting herself in her foolish little brother's shoes, but it seemed that this line of investigation was finally about to pay off.

When she first spotted Miles in the library, she almost hadn't recognized him. He looked so American, almost like a local of this strange, fantastic place. However, it was the way he scrutinized the books around him, paying little attention to the world outside his bubble that convinced Franziska that it truly was Miles, and that tracking him down hadn't been a waste of time after all. She watches from a distance as Miles almost topples a stack of books on top of himself, and snickering quietly, she makes her approach from behind the now carefully-arranged pile. It's high enough that she can't be seen, at least, not until...

One well-placed shove is still enough to topple the stack over, and Franziska is more than happy to provide it.

"Miles Edgeworth!" she shouts, as way of announcing her arrival. Franziska has always liked her grand entrances.

[takethestairs]

"Gnah!"

He moves automatically to catch the books, his instincts pushing him towards disaster, and all he gets for his efforts are red marks on his arms and hands and the faint beginning of a series of bruises. Before he can recover from the avalanche, though, he hears the last voice he ever expected.

"Franziska?!"

Under normal circumstances, he would have scolded her for her bombastic greeting; after all, this is a library. But this is not a normal circumstance by any means. His eyes wide and with a voice nearly as loud as hers, he sputters, "What on earth are you-"

He bites his tongue immediately, chiding himself for his lack of composure. She's here under the exact same circumstances as anyone else, he tells himself. Taking a deep breath and lowering his voice, he starts over again, asking, "How long have you been here?"

Edgeworth still isn't as composed as he'd like; his posture is tense, his voice is taut, and the words are rushed. But it's still far better than the wide-eyed surprise from a moment before.

...and huh, the marks from Franziska's prank are completely gone now. How odd.

[bratziska]

Miles's reaction is enough to make Franziska preen, and she surveys him with a wide grin, unashamedly overjoyed by little brother's surprise and confusion. "Since this morning," she answers simply, moving towards Miles to prop herself on a nearby chair. Her feet don't touch the ground. "I've been looking for you."

She leans in, chin on hands. "It seems that you're here after all." It's the type of sentence that sounds like there's an important word missing. In this case, it's probably 'unfortunately', tacked right there at the very end. It's not as though she needed Miles's presence or not, did she? Her own somewhat bewildered but mostly disdainful question follows shortly after. "What in the world are you wearing?"

wao sorry this is the latest

[doneproperly]

[He knows you can use Google these days. Even though his world is backwards in comparison to this one, he's been here long enough now to get with the program. The fact is though: Mandrake still prefers books.

So that's what sees Mandrake in the library also, wandering past Edgeworth's reading table with a large stack of books in his arms as he goes to find a reading table of his own. He's dressed in his usual attire-- a stylishly expensive tailored suit. Black, of course. He forgoes the tie though, opting to leave the top collar button undone in a way that he certainly thinks is "devilishly handsome." The whole get-up is perfectly calculated to give off an air of someone much older than his soon-to-be 18 years of age.

In truth, he nearly walks right past Edgeworth, he's that off in his own world. But when Edgeworth stands up with an exclamation to steady his teetering pile of books, Mandrake recognises him instantly-- differences be damned. His breath catches, but before he gets the chance to say anything... he walks right into a nearby chair. Oh, what a perilous chair it is, to have been left a little bit far out from the desk by its' previous occupant. In one quick moment, everything goes tumbling over. The books, Mandrake, and the chair beneath him, accompanied by a loud and rather undignified yelp. He lies there on the ground a moment, momentarily stunned and feeling rather foolish.

Why this.]

it's cool! And sorry about my late tag orz

[takethestairs]

[He hears the yelp, followed by the thud of books falling to the ground - god, they weren't his, were they? If someone was hit by a collapse he caused, he'd be mortified beyond repair. Edgeworth glanced around the table, relieved to see everything in its place- oh, right, there was still another person here. He leans over, still half seated, and raises a brow when he sees Mandrake sprawled on the ground]

Need a hand?

me too omg i'm still SUPER HYPED for this thread i just got whammed by life stuff i'm so sorry

[doneproperly]

[Mandrake looks up from his ungracious heap on the floor into Edgeworth's face and reddens immediately. He missed Edgeworth more than he cares to admit, and he'd thought if Edgeworth ever returned he would appear cool and suave. Instead he's sitting on the floor nursing a bruise. He stands with a start, then, dusting his pants.]

Thank you, sir, but as you can see I'm quite--

[It hits him then, rather suddenly: the face he's looking into is too young. There's no recognition in Edgeworth's eyes whatsoever. Somehow... this is an Edgeworth from years before. Something in his chest constricts.]

... all right.

[yatagarasu]

The library wasn't exactly one of Kay's favorite hangouts unless they had a manga section, or at least, some really interesting novels worth picking up and reading. Rather, she was here because of school. Xavier School for imPorts turned out to have homework like any other school, but in her mind, Xavier was still "superschool" and therefore more superior than regular old school. Unlike people who could lose themselves in piles of books day in and day out, Kay simply did not have that kind of attention span.

Despite not losing herself in any reading material at the moment, there are still things she misses. While walking past Edgeworth's table, the only thing that comes to mind is that some nerd or total genius was probably behind those stacks of books...and boy, those were high. When a column nearly falls and a pair of hands steadies it, Kay doesn't notice anything important or amiss; she has walked between two shelves searching for a book by then. Walking her fingers along the spines and pursing her lips as if itching to start whistling, she scans the titles before stopping, and breaking into a grin.

"Aha!"

That came out a bit too loud. Even Kay thinks so too, as she hurriedly claps her hands over her mouth, wondering if anyone had heard her...such as, maybe, whoever was hiding behind the citadel of books close by. The last thing she needed was some know-it-all lecturing her about the sanctity of a library, the significance of silence, et cetera.

[takethestairs]

It's not long before Edgeworth retrieves his pencil and gets back to work, and while Kay searches for her book, he fades back into his world of facts and data. He glances back at his notes, comparing the timeline in his book to the history he remembers, and is just about to write another sentence when-

SNAP. The loud noise breaks his concentration, and, startled, he snaps the tip of his pencil yet again. He bites his tongue, suppressing a squawk, and pokes his head out from behind his stacks to search for the troublemaker. There's a deep scowl in his face as he scans the library, but his investigation is limited. Satisfied that there's no other noise, he takes a deep breath and returns to his studies.

[yatagarasu]

As Kay unfreezes from her spot and pulls out the book she needed, her eyes travel over the stack of books to see if she has provoked a sleeping - or rather, studying - dragon, and sure enough, she has. The brief glimpse of the person's head is enough to make her eyes grow to the size of dinner plates, let out a gasp bordering on a squeak, and fumble her grip on the book. Luckily, she manages not to drop it, but for a moment she is once again so dumbfounded that she doesn't move, and continues staring at the table...

...where Miles Edgeworth was sitting.

He had been gone for a while and while Kay was sad to see him go, she knew life had to go on and the Yatagarasu had to go on. That glimpse of his face told her that he was no longer wearing glasses, and there was more to it than that. Something about his face was...different. Not the same as the Edgeworth she ran into here, or the Edgeworth she knew back home. Kay doesn't know how to feel. She missed him, but this place could be dangerous. Home was safer. Plus, he had probably run into some problems during his last stay, distancing himself from everyone at one point. She couldn't bear to see him go through something like that again especially if she couldn't reach out to him.

Kay had to know, as she clutched her book to her chest - would he remember all that, or would he be like Hange Zoe and Flame Princess, who had no memory of their previous stays? And what would he remember? When Edgeworth looked around, he didn't seem to notice her much. If this was an Edgeworth who remembered her, wouldn't she have caught his attention right away? (After all, her usual outfit was quite flashy and colorful.) Or maybe he was simply too busy, and it was up to her to let him know that his assistant was at his service (even if she was also at Saul Goodman's service).

She walks cautiously toward him and peers around the piles of books. Kay raises her voice just enough to be heard clearly so she didn't disturb any more library patrons. Her forehead creases with concern and uncertainty. His face...he looked younger. Their very first meeting flashes in her mind. Would he, at least, recall that particular incident, and thus recall the name "Kay Faraday"?

"...Mr. Edgeworth?"

11/18 - diner

[notafishwhisperer]

The silence alerted Arthur to something going on in the diner, forcing him to look up from his menu and take stock of the situation. It seemed like quite a few eyes were focused on a man who had quite the load of food on his table. Having known Barry Allen for more than a couple of years now, he had a good idea of what a metahuman appetite looked like. He smiled faintly and when the waitress came to take his order, he gave it and then quietly added that he was going to join the man over at that table.

To his benefit, he wasn't dressed in his Atlantean armor, and he didn't have his trident with him, having found a good hiding place for those. He was dressed like any other young man his age in a t-shirt and some jeans. So when he got up and walked over to sit down with Edgeworth, he hopefully wouldn't be any kind of intimidating.

"I hope you don't mind if I join you? It's not always nice to eat alone, and we seem to be some of the only singles here," he said, noting that other people were seated in pairs or larger groups. The blond offered a light grin. He could be diplomatic; the opportunity just rarely presented itself.

[takethestairs]

He isn't intimidated, but he is surprised, and more than a little puzzled. Is everyone so friendly here? Still, he certainly isn't going to chase him away. While he isn't one for small talk, this could be a perfect opportunity to learn more about this world.

"Erm..." Smooth. Edgeworth clears his throat, and quickly composes himself. "No, not at all-"

And he catches sight of his plates. He scowls at the plates, irritated at himself and his newfound appetite, and when he speaks again his voice is stiff and stilted.

"...just let me make some room for you, first."

[notafishwhisperer]

Arthur watches the way he scurries to clear some space and he almost wants to laugh. It does remind him of Barry, the few times he's been able to sit down with the older man to eat. Almost apologetic about his appetite when it wasn't within his control.

"Don't worry about it. I have a friend who could probably out-eat you without even thinking about it." Maybe that was some small comfort? In any case, Arthur liked the fact that he could try to be of some help in a way that wasn't solely based on beating things around.

"I'm Arthur Curry," he says, finally, offering his hand across the table.

@the diner

[clinomaniac]

What's incredible is the amount of food on the table. At the same time, it's kind of exciting. It's not every day he sees someone who can eat anything close to the amount he regularly scarfs down, and Minato's attention is drawn to the mysterious food vacuum hidden among the plates. He, sitting at a table very close by and definitely within earshot, looked up from his own hearty meal when he heard the throat being cleared. He didn't think it was directed at him, but it was enough to catch his attention. Just in case. And lo and behold, look at that. ... Amazing, really.

He's one of the people Edgeworth might glare at, although the look in Minato's eyes is more of amazement than annoyance or scrutiny. After all, who's he to judge for Edgeworth's amount of food? His stack of plates is just slightly larger than the other's, honestly.

He's stuffing a large piece of pancake in his own mouth when they make eye contact, and there's a moment when he just blinks, unsure what to do. Then he raises his hand in a thumbs-up as he swallows the food. "Nice appetite."

[takethestairs]

Edgeworth continues to glare, refusing to back down, even when he gives him a...thumbs... up? Wait, what? His scowl disappears instantly, irritation replaced with pure confusion, and he stares blankly at him before he goes back to his breakfast. He still has his eyes on Minato, though, and he tilts his head and raises a brow as he cuts into his pancakes.

"That's not what I'd call a compliment," he says, eyeing him warily. Seriously, what's up with this kid?

[clinomaniac]

Oh, this is a serious kind of guy. Maybe even to the level of being a tightass. But no matter. That doesn't bother Minato one bit as he continues to cut away at his own pancake, munching mouthful after mouthful.

"It is for me. It's not often people eat as much as I do."

library; also I am fashionably late I am sorry

[notdaredevil]

It wasn't as though they were friends. Not exactly, in the way that two opinionated people tend to clash whenever ideology comes up. But Matt had respected that he had integrity, even if Edgeworth's priorities didn't necessarily fall in line with Matt's own. Edgeworth never would have had a TV show, at any rate. So in his way, he'd kind of missed him, because at least he was a sane and...more reasonable person than some of the people Matt associates with on a regular basis.

(Because nobody can outdo Tony Stark or Harvey Dent for unreasonable.)

But the sound, the heartbeat, is so familiar. He can't help doing a double-take, pausing halfway out of the room with the book tucked under his arm (not braille; but if anybody calls him out, he'll just bluff his way through it). Backtracks curiously, because it's not like this happens every day, and he's certainly not often mistaken about these kinds of things.

"Edgeworth?"

It's fine! Sorry for the late tag

[takethestairs]

Edgeworth hears someone shuffle over, but doesn't think much of it until he calls out his name. He stops immediately, his pulse speeding up as he clenches his pencil. Great. Fantastic. Someone else who knew the old him. Still... none of his encounters have ended badly so far, have they? So he takes a deep breath, deciding to clear up the misunderstanding as quickly, and tactfully, as he can.

"Yes," he says, "But not the one you're familiar with, I'm afraid."

While Matt may not be able to see the differences between this Edgeworth and the last, he may be able to hear them. Aside from the slow, tired tone of his voice, it also sounds younger, as well; still adult, but not as deep as one would expect from a man in his thirties.

np it's the holidays after all

[notdaredevil]

It's becoming a trend, it seems. First Steve Rogers, and then Miles Edgeworth. Himself, although he tries not to think about it, given the infinite amount of trouble that's caused him without Matt ever truly understanding why. (Matt, and half the people who know Matt Murdock. Which is no change from the ordinary.)

Finding himself on the other side of these conversations, Matt can now appreciate how truly awkward this situation actually is. At least with Steve there had been a common ground, mutual acquaintances. The only one they shared is one Matt fervently hopes Edgeworth never runs into again, if only for his own sake, and one that rather defies explanation. Who knows what Young Edgeworth would make of Reformed Harvey Dent?

"I can hear that," he says, hoping to avoid any elaboration on that, or how he knew who it was to begin with. (He could say he sort of smells the same, and it would be true, but nobody likes to hear that. Matt is fairly certain Edgeworth would not be pleased.) "And I assume that you know to ask that means somebody has already explained the whole, er." Visibly doesn't know how to put this. "Doppelganger mess."

Anita hates books and doesn't live at the apartment complex so that leaves one location

[acrobrat]

Anita didn't exactly earn a fortune each time she got her paycheck at the police department, but she at least made enough to treat herself every now and then. That was why she was paying a visit to the nearest diner, walking up to it clad in a hoodie, shorts, and sneakers, looking every inch the typical young girl. She is about Franziska's age, only with short pink hair, and stands under five feet in height. Everything about her is typical except for the tattoo marking her as an unsettled imPort.

She arrives in time to notice everyone staring at something. Anita's gaze hovers over them until it settles over what they were gawking at - a pile of plates on a table that was absolutely filled with food. Anita finds her own eyes drawn to that table and soon realizes that she, too, is staring. Which is impolite. The image registering in her mind is that of a fat slob with grease smeared around his face and food stains all over his clothes, and that thought is enough to make her pull a disgusted face and approach the nearest empty table - which happened to be near the one commanding everyone's attention.

Her imagination is instantly proven wrong when the person she thought could probably eat enough food to equal her body weight in one sitting suddenly gives a glance around the diner and she gets a better look at the face behind the plates. Thank goodness, he is the exact opposite of her mental image. Seeing the young man makes her think, Duh, he's probably an imPort. His power is being a bottomless pit and not gaining a single pound. Oh, right. If shrugs could be sarcastic, hers certainly was.

Anita takes the empty table next to his and is instantly doted upon by a waitress. The girl gives her order - a small stack of chocolate chip pancakes, and yes, she would like milk refills - before turning toward the man with wide green eyes. She places her elbows on the table before piping up, "So, is that your power?"

[takethestairs]

Alright, the stares have stopped, at least for now. Satisfied that the crowd's bored with (or intimidated by) him, he harrumphs to himself and returns to his foo-oof! Anita's question catches him off guard, and he jumps in his seat, choking on a bite of sausage. He coughs, he sputters, and he grasps his glass of water to wash down the offending piece of meat. Once he's able to breathe, he slams the water down and glares at her, his cheeks still red.

"What's my power?" he snaps, still breathy from his near suffocation. He's not in the mood to deal with stupid questions right now, kid.

[acrobrat]

Anita bites back a snicker at that display, but maintains her cool, undaunted by his glare. She had seen much scarier people than this man who had choked - and a part of her quips mentally that she should have seen it coming, what with him eating so much.

Leaning back against her seat, raising her arms and folding them behind her head, she replies, "Oh, being able to to eat your body weight without gaining a pound, probably. People have all sorts of super powers here." Her lips curl into a slight smirk, the kind that is usually followed by plunking her feet onto the table smugly, but since this was a public place, and an eating establishment at that, she does not do so.