maskormenacelogs | Getting in the swing of things [OPEN]

Entry tags:

Getting in the swing of things [OPEN]

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Something only Kay would know, and something that he wouldn't dare let slip to someone else... Edgeworth crosses his arms, thinking, when it hits him. This is the perfect question to verify Faraday's identity.

"When we last spoke, you mentioned a promise between you and your father, something more important than anything else. What was it?"

It was a trick question; there were several promises made between the two of them. The promise she chooses, however, will tell him everything he needs to know.

It was a trick question that Kay didn't miss. She raises her eyebrows and gapes at him. Even seven years later and even without the promise book in her hands, she could still remember the promises clearly, if not word for word. "It wasn't just a promise, we made five!" Kay said, remembering belatedly to keep her voice down. "Sorry..."

She pauses, then decides that it wouldn't hurt to continue talking. "One of them is that I wasn't supposed to take anything from a stranger, but Gummy and I put our money together to get a pack of Swiss rolls. That was important in the case, wasn't it? You thought Gummy was lying about something but it was just for me. And...and..." Here, Kay manages a sheepish smile and a brief laugh, recalling a particularly amusing memory despite the miserable backdrop of the second KG-8 incident. "You lent me your cravat so I could clean it up."

Kay didn't have the cravat now, and she realizes belatedly that it could be fatal that she doesn't have it. If Edgeworth believed her and the malleability of the concept of time, though, perhaps it wouldn't matter.

Edgeworth's face pales visibly, and he doesn't even think to chastise her for her volume. Every word she speaks is completely, undeniably, true. A part of him rebels, trying in vain to find some hole in his answer, but nothing comes to mind. However, loathe as he is to admit it, his resistance isn't based entirely off of logic or reason. Deep down, he knows that a person from a different point in time is no stranger, objectively, than someone from a different world. But adjusting to life in Heropa has been difficult enough (though he's managed as best as he, or anyone can) and the last thing he needs to see are old, familiar faces warped by time and experience. Being torn from his home to a fantasy world of heroes and villains was odd; this is unsettling.

When she finishes, Edgeworth isn't thinking about the cravat, or how she promised to return it. Still in a daze, he swallows the lump in his throat and, his voice weaker than he'd like to admit, asks, "And the other promises?"

Thinking of the promises unleashes a wave of melancholy and nostalgia. Just because the second KG-8 incident had been solved and Calisto Yew had been caught, among other criminals involved in the smuggling ring, did not mean that Kay would never be saddened by the sacrifice of her father. She lowers her head a little, and her mouth purses into a small frown. For a single, fleeting moment, she thinks of the possibility of her father coming to this world. If timelines were nothing to the Porter, it could, theoretically, take Byrne from any part of the timeline before his untimely demise.

She would always be, in her heart, a daddy's girl. Kay raises her head, the book still clutched in both hands.

"I promised...to never go anywhere with a stranger, and to always try to learn about things I don't understand," Kay responds softly. "And to never cry in front of strangers...and to always smile for people." At this, she manages a sad smile. This shouldn't make her cry - at least, not anymore. It was over. Even if Edgeworth was still stuck in that part of the past that was already seven years away. Kay focuses on how happy she is to see him again, and how much she appreciated what he had done for her, and how she had managed to keep moving forward.

Edgeworth lowers his gaze, no longer staring directly at Kay, and he remains silent as she recites each and every promise she made to her father. Just like you asked, he reminded himself. If there was a prize for tact, Edgeworth wouldn't even be eligible for a party favor.

It isn't guilt that ties his stomach into knots, though; it's the truth. It's become apparent that this isn't a lie or a sham. This girl is, until he sees proof to the contrary, the real Kay Faraday. He nearly opens his mouth to say something, but what on earth is he supposed to say? A simple hello isn't going to cut it, and he can't push past his discomfort to talk business, not after the memories that he just dragged out of her.

"That's..."

He clears his throat and ignores how his own voice has gone quiet. It's simply a side effect of talking in the library. That's all.

"That seems to be correct."

Smooth.

...Way to ruin the atmosphere, Edgeworth.

Kay shrugs and gives him a brief grin of concurrence; of course she was correct. She is not certain, however, what else to say after that, so instead she pulls up a nearby chair with a free hand as quietly as she can until it is at Edgeworth's table, and takes a seat. The book is gently placed in what little free space she finds among the books he had stacked up. She looks at him with an expectant expression.

"Is there...anything else you wanted to ask me?" She idly thumbs through the pages of her book, not reading through or even skimming. Her full attention is on Edgeworth, waiting for any further questions, whether about her, about this place, or about what had happened in those past seven years.

While Kay settles in, Edgeworth takes a deep breath and tries to center himself. He has to approach this logically. rationally. But where does he begin?

He needs to get some basic information first, enough that he can create a frame of reference for... whatever you'd call this situation. Time travel? Alternate dimensions? Dear lord, his life really has become a cheap comic book, hasn't it? Edgeworth ignores the throbbing at his temple.

"First of all..." He takes a moment to consider his words, and asks, "How old are you, exactly?"

His voice still has a hint of wariness to it, not out of suspicion towards her, but lingering bewilderment at their current circumstance. However, it's also firmer, more like his usual tone. The question is simple, but it's enough to put him back in his element, and the answer will tell him just how much time has passed since their last meeting. Not to mention how old he was during their last visit- wait, no, he could have come from any point in time, right? Once he realizes this, he quickly adds, "And how old was I?"

"I'm seventeen...but I'll be turning eighteen this month," Kay replies promptly, letting go of her book. That other question she would be unable to answer precisely because she didn't know how old Edgeworth was at that time, or during his last foray into this world, or even when they first met.

"Um...it was seven years after the second KG-8 incident, when I was brought here. That was the last time I saw you back home. But in this world...you looked older than that, and you were wearing glasses and a long coat." At the back of her mind, Kay wonders what would happen if she told this Edgeworth about his future, which was her present. Would she cause a rift in the space-time continuum or something? Probably not. Hopefully. She liked her present just the way it was.

Edgeworth frowns as he thinks over Kay's answer. She came from seven years in the future, and he, apparently, came from an even further point in time than that...eurgh, just how old was he? He's not sure what's worse: the thought of himself as some old geezer with glasses, or the fact that her answer is woefully incomplete.

Grating as it is, though, he can't let one dead end stop him in his tracks. Instead of obsessing over what she doesn't know, he needs to focus on what she does know. One detail that sticks out is that they had met again somehow. From his perspective, he hadn't seen her in months; from her perspective, she saw him just a year ago, before she was taken to this strange place. What happened in those past seven years? Had they kept in touch? Was there a followup to the second KG-8 incident and Calisto Yew's misdeeds? Or did something else bring them together? And, most importantly, what was her connection to the Yatagarasu? Why would she brazenly show off the symbol of her father's murderer like that?

One thing at a time, he reminds himself. Edgeworth crosses his arms, and asks, "How did we meet again? Back in Los Angeles, I mean."

He might ask about their reunion in Heropa later, but first, he needs to establish what happened in those missing seven years.

Maybe she could answer this without giving away too much. Kay adjusts her position on her chair, trying to relax a bit. It wasn't like she was going to divulge a secret that would tear a country apart, right? Then again...what if this Edgeworth went home with memories of this conversation? Kay has not seen home in half a year; she would not know what it was like firsthand.

"I was looking for you, seven years after the incident," she begins, twiddling her thumbs the way she did when she was ten. "I knew you could help me find Calisto Yew. We ran into each other at Gatewater Land...an amusement park." That park probably wasn't around seven years ago.

Still, despite the supposedly serious nature of their conversation, the corners of Kay's mouth twitch into the briefest, slightest of smiles as she remembers the very first case she helped him out on as his assistant, not as the victim. Hadn't they first met while Edgeworth was tied to a post screaming his head off?

Oh dear. She wonders if she could at least say that and watch this Edgeworth's reaction.

Wait, Gatewater? Isn't that the name of a hotel? No matter; there's several explanations for that, and none of them are pertinent to the conversation at hand. What's more important to Edgeworth is what brought them together again: Calisto Yew. It makes perfect sense that she'd want justice for her father's death. Isn't that set him on his current path? Before his thoughts can get too somber, though, he manages to catch sight of Kay's smile. It's small and shortlived, but it was enough to grab his attention and make him think. The second KG-8 incident was far from a happy memory for anybody, so if she's smiling, then maybe, just maybe...

Edgeworth takes a deep breath, and, steeling his nerves, asks, "Did we succeed?"

His confrontation with Calisto Yew was far from his greatest mistake; that honor belongs to his last case, and his failure to investigate Hawthorne more thoroughly before she took the stand. He still regrets his carelessness with Yew, though, even months after the investigation has ended. Where another person may take pride in their success, in their discovery of the truth and their rescue of an innocent man, he can only notice his failures and mistakes, and how he let a criminal escape his grasp. But, if Kay thinks on their second meeting fondly, then maybe, just maybe, he was able to correct his errors. After all, he doubt she'd be so pleased to meet him if he failed a second time.

Edited 2014-11-28 21:21 (UTC)

Well, there were many reasons why Kay looked back fondly on their second meeting - not just catching Calisto, of course. But perhaps it would be better to save the more lighthearted, humorous scenarios for another day. Now was not the time, while Edgeworth was still dealing with being new to this world all over again. Besides, she would be able to really savor the moment then instead of trying to savor it while having one foot on Memory Lane.

She nods. "Yeah, we did. It wasn't easy. She was disguised and had us all fooled, but when she couldn't hold in her laughter, her disguise started to crack." Kay shudders a little; Calisto's bone-chilling laughter would always be the stuff of nightmares, her hands remaining clasped together on her lap.

We did it.

Edgeworth goes still, his eyes wide, his mouth parted ever so slightly as he fails to form a proper response. We did it. It took seven years, but Calisto Yew is finally behind bars. His mistake has finally been rectified - or at least, one of them. Nothing will ever wash away the taint of the Fawles trial. But for now, he'll take what victory he can get. Back in Los Angeles, he had been a failure, his own sloppy work turning what should have been an open and shut case into a complete disaster. His future self, though, was the complete opposite. He was no longer a clumsy rookie, bumbling his way through court, failing to recognize his own ignorance. He was successful. He was victorious.

His triumph is shortlived, however, ending as soon as he realizes something very important: he looks like a complete idiot right now. A true von Karma, either by blood or education, wouldn't stare slackjawed at their own success. It would be taken for granted, assumed as part of the natural order of things! Victory should be as ordinary and commonplace to him as walking and breathing. Edgeworth clears his throat and straightens himself in an attempt to compose himself, but pride still bubbles underneath the surface of his skin.

"Well, she won't be laughing now that she's behind bars," he says, smirk on his face, his voice practically oozing with confidence. His expression softens, though, the moment he notices Kay's posture. He breathes in and, when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, a touch more sober, but still as firm and self assured as ever.

"The important thing is," he continues, "is that it's over. Her fate is in the hands of the law now, and she can never hurt another person ever again."

And that was what mattered, wasn't it? It wasn't about winning, it wasn't about pride, it wasn't about salvaging the remains of a shredded ego. What set Edgeworth on his path was justice. While his father's murderer may run free, Kay Faraday will no longer have to live with that pain. For once, he lived up to the von Karma name and did something right.

Kay lets a giggle slip, and she relaxes when Edgeworth remarks that Calisto won't be laughing now. Even though after meeting her again, Kay is sure that Calisto, that dark-hearted criminal, would still find occasion to look back and laugh, since she had enjoyed the thrill despite not being victorious in the end, at least she can do all her laughing away from people who didn't share her sense of humor.

"It was like...a long fight had come to an end," Kay remarks, still choosing her words carefully. Let Edgeworth ask all the questions he wants, she tells herself, and don't suddenly drop more bombs about his future on him. She agrees wholeheartedly with Edgeworth, yes. Calisto would no longer manipulate others or murder anyone. They had done the world a favor.

"It wasn't just us, of course. Many people helped, like Miss von Karma and Gummy."

"Wait, them?"

The exclamation comes out before he can stop himself, and he bites his tongue immediately. Hngh, he shouldn't be prone to outbursts like that... he needs to think about this calmly, rationally, and logically.

Alright. So, Franziska makes sense, now that he thinks about it; seven years from now, she'll be his age, and both older and more experienced (and, hopefully, less violent). Between her maturity and her training, she'd be a valuable asset to any investigation.

But the detective? That scruffy, bumbling rookie? What could he possibly contribute? Then again, he isn't completely without virtue. He's certainly tenacious enough, not to mention loyal. He just...needs to be guided properly, and occasionally put in his place. And besides, if anyone would have a stake in Calisto Yew's downfall, it would be him.

Edgeworth coughs into his fist, straightening up, pretending that he didn't speak out of turn.

"It's just...a little unexpected, is all."

Kay blinks, tilting her head at him. Edgeworth seems so surprised that Franziska and Gumshoe were in on this. But before she could point out that it shouldn't be so astounding, he speaks up again.

"You think so? Honestly, the rest of it is a really long story...Gummy was around when you and I met again, because you were working together, but Miss von Karma arrived later on, and you reintroduced me to her."

It was almost like a reunion, the four of them coming together just when it mattered most - when Calisto was cornered, and the leader of the smuggling ring was revealed.

"I assumed Franziska would have been busy with her own affairs," he explains. He's about to leave it at that, until he remembers that Franziska's studies never came up around her.

"She was studying in Europe," he continues, "and was set to begin her career there. But I suppose that if anything would force her to collaborate, it would be Yew and her cohorts."

As for the detective... well, all he can do is hope that he, too, improved in those seven years.

"I think she was working with Interpol when we met again," Kay adds, then remembers something. Franziska had been here too, but only for a short while. They spoke to each other...once? Then before she knew it, Franziska had been Ported out as well.

"That reminds me...she was here, too, but she was from my time. But she didn't stay long."

Interpol? That explains it, and what an explanation it is. Edgeworth can't help but feel proud of Franziska, though he'd never say it out loud; while he knows that Franziska would be pleased, he also knows that she'd chide him for being overly sentimental.

He doesn't think on that for long, though. Kay's last statement grabs his attention instantly, and he furrows his brow, thinking over the possibilities.

"You mean, she was here at the same time-"

The same time I was here? He stops himself, pursing his lips together. Putting it like that... it doesn't feel right. It never felt right.

"...the same time the previous version of me was here?"

That was...better. Not perfect, and still awkward, but better.

Kay nods. Time turned out to be nothing to the Porter. It took Kay and Franziska from 2019, although they arrived at different times in this world, but Edgeworth was from their future. She looks in askance at Edgeworth when he reacts to what she just said, but thinks nothing of it - except to realize that she might have said too much to overwhelm him despite leaving out the major plot points from the story at home.

"She arrived much later than...the future you. He was here first before either of us."

She pauses, leaning back against her chair and looking as if she is about to push away from the table and leave. Of course, she doesn't.

"Sorry...it's probably a lot to take in. It was for me, too." That last part was not completely true; Kay had taken to the idea of superpowers like a duck to water and just decided to learn everything else along the way. That reminds her...

"By the way, what powers did you get?"

Edgeworth's about to brush off her concern, but the question takes him by surprise.

"Shouldn't they be the same as before?" he asks. If there was another version of him, shouldn't he have the same abilities? Or perhaps not. Who knows how that blasted Porter works.

Kay shrugs. Honestly, she didn't know what the previous Edgeworth's powers were. He never told her. Or maybe she had never asked, as she was too overwhelmed by the temporal difference between them. At least despite his age, he recalled her right away.

She pouts, a little disappointed that she was unable to get the answer to that question from the last version of Edgeworth. "I didn't know what yours - I mean, his - were. I never saw him using them."

Probably because of the side effects, no doubt. Turning into a human garbage disposal wasn't exactly Edgeworth's idea of dignity. Though there's other reasons too, he imagines; the less other people know about his abilities, the less they can take advantage of him. While he doubts that Kay would be so unscrupulous, he can't say the same for others in the city.

His first instinct is to brush the matter aside and keep his powers hidden once more, but he has a better idea.

"They aren't exactly flashy," he says. "However, I think a demonstration may work better than an explanation."

He eyes her broach, his gaze lingering, before he gestures to it.

"May I borrow that? It will only take a moment."

"Sure!"

Kay's eyes light up with interest and anticipation as she quickly unfastens the pin from her scarf and hands it to Edgeworth. This could be good, even if he claims that his powers weren't flashy. Her other power apart from controlling crows was vocal replication, and it didn't sound flashy at all until she used it on people by mimicking their voices exactly, down to the last pitch. In her opinion, all powers were interesting.

Her full attention is still on him, waiting for something to happen. Was he going to make her Yatagarasu badge disappear? If he does do that, he should be prepared to bring it back.

Edgeworth takes the accessory, and uses it as an excuse to examine it further. He was correct: the bird on her pin is the exact same as the symbol on the Yatagarasu's calling card. He'll ask about that in a moment, but first, he promised her a demonstration.

He pauses to grab a handkerchief from his satchel, and once he has the cloth, he undoes the clasp so the pointed end is out. Alright. Everything is prepared.

"Now, watch carefully, Miss Faraday..."

And, without another word, he stabs the tip of his finger. It's not a deep wound, only enough to draw blood and nothing more, but he hisses and winces at the prick nonetheless.

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