[OPEN] you force your fire and then you falsify your deeds

[insinerate]

WHO: Yuri Petrov & Visitors
WHERE: Prison
WHEN: All throughout July
WHAT: Yuri's sentence for attempted murder has finally been doled out, and this time he's not getting an accidental early release when the place collapses on his head.
WARNINGS: Allusions to murder and possible language. Should that change, I'll edit this.
NOTES: I'll match brackets or prose. Feel free to throw in your own starters or, if you'd like me to set something up for our characters, hit me up via PM or at quietlikeafire so we can work something out!


"You have a visitor."

The corrections officer who comes to collect Yuri is seldom the same two days in a row. A stocky man one morning with crooked teeth, a mountainous woman the following day who looks more like a professional wrestler, and sometimes whoever comes to retrieve him has a shadow, a newer recruit who's being shown the ropes of the facility and being familiarized with its inmates. Jittery thing, usually young, with a habit of wringing their hands or smacking their lips nervously, often as they try to avoid staring at his face—the palm print scar marring more than half, specifically.

Sometimes they talk among themselves, and sometimes Yuri listens. Doesn't give a lick about the weather banter. He gets his recreational time outdoors same as everyone else. Can't be bothered with the gossip surrounding a new television show about a badass southern evangelist. He's more interested in the news and the aftermath of the imPort elections. But the trip from cell to visitation room is short, and regardless of the topic, the conversations Yuri overhears are often cut off abruptly. He doesn't know if the warden's grandmother will get her new dentures before her 30th wedding anniversary. Won't find out if they're serving anything special on July 4th in the cafeteria. Doesn't get to hear the buzz about new imPort arrivals and who may or may not have made a stir...

"No contact," he's reminded as he's left to make himself comfortable at one of the many small tables set up in a stark white room with barred windows. The chairs are cheap but nevertheless provide a place to sit. So he sits, folds his hands upon the tabletop before him and, in his fashionable prison blues, he waits patiently to see who has come today to disturb his peace. Someone come to get their scoop, perhaps? A doctor itching to dole out a diagnosis? Or maybe even a friend who does what he's told only when it's convenient for him.

Whoever it is, Yuri will smile as they walk through that door and sit opposite him. He'll smile like not a thing in the world is wrong.

Comments

"i should tag this" i say before tagging this several years later

[fistofthejoestar]

Jonathan's supervised journey to the other side of the barred window is significantly more awkward; although well-dressed, he suspects that the guards rarely see a man of his stature as merely a visitor. He does his best to pretend he doesn't see the suspicious glances shot his way as he's shown through the final door. It's not a difficult task - his mind is overflowing as it is.

This is the job he volunteered to do, and hardly the first, but even before unfolding it was already so different from Annie. He can't help but wonder if there hadn't been some mistake in the assignment. Surely there must be other, more skilled probation officers available?

But Jonathan has shared his life with self-doubts long enough to know that dwelling on the possibility of failure only fed them. He'd promised to give this task his utmost, and he intended to see that through to the end.

By the time he reaches the table there's no sign of hesitation in his mannerisms. He bows his head quietly in greeting before settling into the chair; there's a moment of nothing but shifting before he speaks, as he attempts to situate himself in a way that prevents him from falling off the too-small seat.

"Good afternoon," he says, voice as gentle as his arrival. "My name is Jonathan Joestar."

They've met before, of course. A cafe, a pleasant conversation - all things that he doesn't expect Yuri to remember. Too much had happened between then and now to obliterate small moments like that. Better to wipe the record clean, literally and metaphorically.

"I've been assigned as your probation officer, when the times comes for your release."

His fingers spread wide across his lap, unseen from above. Truth be told he really had no idea what was proper to do or say in this moment. He leaves it at that for now, hoping the conversation will guide him along in the right direction. It should be an acceptable start to things.

[insinerate]

While most memories of January last year are a jumbled, stress-induced mess, Yuri recalls with vivid clarity that cafe and his conversation with Jonathan Joestar. Indeed, the words they'd exchanged were pleasant to start with, but no sooner had the topic of laws been broached that their exchange had taken a very serious turn. It was happenstance and the promise of tea that allowed them to move away from heated topics such as Jonathan's accidental kidnapping of a minor, but it wasn't long before certain other things had been said that rekindled Yuri's interest.

Of course, their paths hadn't crossed again after that, not with Yuri's life unraveling the way it had, but the former judge nevertheless maintained his initial impression. How could he forget so memorable a person? And why ever should he want to?

"Mr Joestar." The irony that they should meet again in this manner widens Yuri's smile. "More than a year has passed since last we spoke. I can only presume that you have become much more familiar with modern law in that span of time if you've been assigned as my probation officer. I'm glad. You struck me as someone with a certain...aptitude for justice."

[fistofthejoestar]

It was arrogance in Jonathan's mind to presume familiarity on the part of another, particularly with so great (and tumultuous) a span of time between meetings. The recognition in Yuri's eyes is unexpected but welcome, even if it does nothing against the overwhelming heaviness of the situation.

"I believe that I may hold an honorary degree in law at this point," he replies, unable to keep from some small levity. It does nothing to alter the somber slope of his brows, but it wouldn't be right to indulge even if it possessed that capability.

"But regardless of how apt I may or may not be, I do intend to see this through with everything I have."

It was only right, after all. Jonathan may not be certain that he really could say he was proficient in meting out justice, but he knew what was right and wrong.

[insinerate]

"I expect nothing less from you."

Though they'd spoken just the once, Yuri believes his impression of Jonathan is as accurate as they come. After all, the Joestars and their associates weren't completely unknown to him. Not only had they proved troublesome to take down, but Joseph was partly responsible for his capture the first time suspicion had been cast his way. It seems only appropriate that Jonathan should be the one to be his probation officer now. As if he were some kind of family legacy to be passed down.

"Tell me, how much experience do you have rehabilitating hardened criminals?"

[fistofthejoestar]

Yuri wouldn't be the first unsavory heirloom to be handed down through the generations, and with that question it's inevitable that Jonathan's mind drifts back to his original inheritance.

It's strange, that he has to think about his answer at all. No one else would hesitate like this where Dio was concerned - certainly not when it all seemed so obvious. How could a man who destroyed so many lives in his quest for selfish power be termed anything other than a failure?

But Jonathan can't help recalling the calmness he'd conducted himself with here, so different from the explosive man barely grasping onto his temper that he'd fought in England. He'd forced him to learn that, through one hundred years in the sea. And he'd taught him to love, as much as Dio ever could, and to grasp (imperfectly) the strength of bonds.

He can't in good conscience call any of that a waste. It wasn't fair - it wasn't right.

"Less than some of my colleagues, I'm sure," he replies instead, settling on an honesty that resonates more peacefully with his thoughts. "But this isn't my first assignment - I worked with Miss Annie Leonhart, if you happened to have known her."

[flowerette]

Perhaps it should have been strange for such a beautiful young woman to wander into a prison, but the way Raina moved, it was as though she was no stranger to visiting someone in jail. After her conversation with Chilton, the mutual goal they had in mind, she figured it was best to sit down with the would-be subject and get a better idea of him. All she really knew was that he once went on a killing spree and apparently murdered Dorian Gray, he just confessed to an attempted murder that wound him up in this place, and he was Will's friend. Close friend.

She settled into the chair before him, returning his smile as one leg crossed over the next. It was probably useless to work up her sexual appeal because from what she gathered, Yuri probably held no interest in women. "Do you know who I am?" Was she a non-entity to him? Or did he know her through her association with Chilton?

[insinerate]

Raina was only half right. Yuri's interest in people tended to be rather specific, was seldom of a romantic nature and even less so sexual. Granted, he'd had relations with Dorian Gray, but those hadn't been initiated due to any sort of carnal attraction at all, and if Yuri had to choose between the sexes, he would undoubtedly prefer women. Typically, they were less violent, and there was quite a bit of appeal in that, particularly for someone of his background.

That was to say, when he preferred anyone at all, which was...well, even he couldn't recall the last time he'd longed for anyone's company. Besides Will's, of course. But that was very, very different.

In any case, the woman who sat herself across from him was not a non-entity. "Of course I know you." How could he not when she had once run for Ambassadorship of Nonah? Not to mention her indisputable ties to Frederick Chilton, which rendered her sexual appeal far more useless to her than even Yuri's own inclinations. "What brings you here to see me, Raina?"

[flowerette]

"Curiosity and interest. I've never spoken to you myself, but you have always been something of a legend. The man people whisper about when talking about what horrible things imPorts are capable of doing. But.." She looked him over for a moment, studying his demeanor and body language. "You spoke of justice, acting on your own definition of the term. There are many more layers to this and to you than meet the eye, no black and white definition of right and wrong, good or evil."

She leaned in a little bit, dark eyes rich with interest. "What is your idea of justice? What defines it for you?"

[insinerate]

A legend? The idea sours Yuri's disposition in an instant, and his smile vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

"I doubt that."

Not that he's talked about, nor even that the things he's done should be considered horrible, because they are—but that he's at all among the worst, that his actions should be comparable to those of Peter Pan, Lucifer, or Crane, and those just to name a few.

"In any case, my idea of justice is of little consequence to you if you do not believe in evil, for its elimination is the cornerstone of everything I believe in."

[flowerette]

As the smile melted away, it was tempting for hers to grow. But she mirrored his sobering, leaning back and away from him. "You would eliminate this evil by doing the very evil things most others do? Torture. Murder. And in your eyes, the ends justify the means...?"

She shook her head gently. "I don't see things in black or white. But there are multiple shades of gray." Way more than fifty, okay. "There's something to be said about the yin yang principle. No matter how light you are, there will always be darkness inside of you and vice versa. I have been hurt, brutalized, and worse. And I have returned the favor to others -- people who aren't necessarily good, but they aren't quite evil. So what does that make me, in your eyes?"

[hisheartsdesire]

It's a strange hour for Yuri to get a visit, sometime well past the typical visiting hours. Yet, the officer comes to collect him as quietly as possible because normally they don't make any exceptions...

Not long after Yuri's sat at the table does Toby make his entrance.

"Sorry to disturb you at this time, Mister Petrov. But this is the earliest I could safely make it here to visit you."

[insinerate]

"Of course, I understand. You're not disturbing me."

The guards would be more inconvenienced by Toby's late night call than Yuri. While his location may have changed, the former judge's nocturnal habits had not. He hadn't been asleep. Very far from it, in fact.

"It's a pleasure to see you, if unexpected. I hope you've been well?"

[hisheartsdesire]

Nodding, "Yeah. In general, I mean. Last month was somewhat turbulent, after all."

In between preparing an amazing wedding in less than a month's time, only to reschedule it because people weren't themselves at the time... That's considered turbulent, isn't it?

"And what about you?"

Yuri just recently received his sentence, hadn't he? How were things for him last month? But before Yuri could answer, Toby interrupts himself and his own train of thought.

"Oh, I just remembered..." He produces a blank notebook and two books. "I brought these for you, since I do recall how monotonous the days could get in these confines. With luck, they'll be to your liking."

[insinerate]

"You've my deepest sympathies, Tobias." Having to postpone his plans can't have been very pleasant, particularly if Dorian had been genuine in his desire to follow through with their arrangement. How much must he have sulked? How insufferable must he have been? A little part of Yuri hopes he'd suffered. But only a little, for Dorian's suffering was also Toby's, and the former judge didn't dislike the vampire. On the contrary, he'd grown to find his company quite pleasurable. When it didn't remind him of Dorian, at least. "I'm glad you have been well otherwise."

Before he can say more, the books the vampire brought him are slid across the table. Approved already by the guards on staff, they're hardly given a second glance as Yuri begins flipping through them, stopping to admire the blank notebook.

"You didn't need to go to all the trouble, but thank you for this. As I'm sure you recall, fruitful stimuli in this place is hard to come by."

[hisheartsdesire]

"Indeed, I do," Toby replies with a small smile. Yuri seems pleased, after all, and he'd given Toby a present back when he was in prison over half a year ago. "Which is why I thought to get you something. It really wasn't any trouble at all."

A pause.

"Speaking of trouble, I ironed things out a bit with Dorian. He shouldn't be a problem anymore."

Which is what Yuri had wanted, isn't it? Sure, Toby had basically coerced Dorian into an agreement, and he's not entirely sure how long it'll keep Dorian at bay, but whatever. For now, he has some assurance that Dorian will stick to his word.

brackets b/c i'm a monster

[rathercommon]

[ She supposes she oughtn't be here, really. She knows she disturbs Yuri, to some extent, and he does deserve peace and a quiet place to gather himself. But - well - she can't really help her curiosity. She resists indulging it for a long time, but eventually, she just gives in and goes.

She doesn't look quite like the Kitty Jones he knows when she walks through the door. She usually uses her shapeshifting powers to cover up her changed appearance, but when powers are nullified, she can't do that. So she comes in with her face wrinkled and her hair gray, weathered and changed by magic. But her eyes are familiar, as bright as ever, fixed on his face with concern and interest and caution.

Her voice is polite when she sits down opposite him. ]

Hullo, Mr Petrov.

wow rude u gon burn

[insinerate]

[There is a brief moment when Kitty enters the room to sit opposite him where Yuri nearly rises completely out of his chair in surprise, so startled is he by his guest's appearance. After all, she looks less like the Kitty he's come to know and more like...

...his mother.

Of course, it's a fortunate thing that they sound nothing alike and that her eyes are so much gentler, and when she greets him, polite and poised, the illusion is swiftly shattered. Yuri relaxes once again in his chair, hands clasped together beneath his chin, a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding slowly released from his lungs.]

Ms Jones...I presume?

wow!!!!!!!!!! i use sunscreen thx

[rathercommon]

You presume quite correctly.

[ Gentle as her eyes might be, they're still sharp. She doesn't miss a moment of that ripple of surprise - fear? dismay? something - and wonders about the source of it. She doubts very much that he was upset on behalf of Kitty Jones, who lost her youthful good looks in service of saving the world. Did she remind him of someone? She wonders... ]

I suppose I ought to have warned you that I look different now.

ur spf can't save ur soul

[insinerate]

[She doesn't look at him with the same disdain as Yuri's mother. There is no hatred there, no accusation. It's...relieving. And troubling, both. To think that he should be so glad that anyone should look at him without a shred of the hatred he thinks he deserves, let alone Kitty Jones, whose life he'd tried to take in the past.

Ah...now that's a memory he shouldn't revisit when she wears this face.]

That would have been courteous. I know better than to expect such things from you.

but it's spf 75!!!!!

[rathercommon]

[ A wry smile curls her lips. And she replies, cheerfully: ]

I suppose I ought to take offense, but it's actually rather true.

I'm glad that you're still as sharp-tongued as ever. I'd have worried, otherwise.

[infomodder]

Will is late.

It didn't take him this long to destroy certain property. Or what parts of it he did actually destroy.

It didn't take him this long to see that certain ties between the two of them couldn't be made.

It didn't take him this long because he was waffling over whether or not to come. He wasn't debating the whole seen less frequently in each other's company while cooking, making lures, physical distractions to help him come up with whether or not this visit was acceptable.

He could have done all of that and still shown up at the end of the same day.

But he didn't.

He's finally coming around this late into the game. Does Yuri know it's because Something happened? Does he assume it, or does he assume the worst—abandonment?

Only one way to find out, and no better day than the Lord's day to pop by for a visit. He's dressed in dark colors again. Black slacks and a shirt so thick on the deep blue pigment it looks black as well. He stops inside the door just long enough to pull off his glasses and slide them in his shirt pocket; then he's bridging the gap between Yuri and he with quiet, confident steps. Nothing about him whispers hesitation. Everything about him screams familiarity. The sort earned, not expected. Companionship. Which is why any smile given his way is returned in kind for what it is; something honest receives honesty in return, something false receives a similar mockery. This for that.

He doesn't sit. He stands across from Yuri, glancing around the room. There's familiarity in him for it, too. More familiarity than he likes but familiarity just the same.

"Is this justice?"

He ventures in that almost bored tone, looking at the bars on the window as he slowly pulls out the chair.

[insinerate]

It's not abandonment if you've told someone to leave. If it's expected of them. Or maybe it is. If you want that person to stay. If, despite telling them to go, keep their distance, be seen less frequently with you, what you really want is for them to disobey and show up the next day. The next week. The same time. Predictably, to make or partake in breakfast, possibly dinner, and speak with you about things civilized people would turn their noses up at.

Or, at least in this case, to show up when visitation hours permit.

"You know as well as I do, Will, that this is not justice."

All this worked out to be was this world's approximation of the thing, the only way they knew how to punish imPorts while still being able to use them. It was a farce. But Yuri's smile isn't. Not for Will. He's quite glad to see him, all things considered. Because one person has gone missing already, one person he gave a damn about. And then when Will seemed to disappear, too...

Well, he'd wondered. Maybe even worried a little. A week had passed, after all. But it had been enough that he'd returned, that if he'd wanted to, he could have reached out and spoken to Will at any time. Even if he didn't. Because at least one of them was trying to be a good boy.

"Won't you sit?"

[infomodder]

Trying to be a good boy in all new ways, ways he'd never imagined he'd have a chance to be any good at. Ways that cause the first bout of hesitation. Won't you sit? has a new meaning for him now, and hearing it...does Yuri know somehow?

But that's ridiculous. He hasn't spread it much outside the house. He has no desire to, either. None of those little voices would have given the news to Yuri. They had no reason to, no motive to be so very rude. Still, that idea hits him before the logical reality of the situation does, and it shows. Tense shoulders, an odd hardness when he looks at Yuri born of confusion at how something he guarded was torn asunder, vanishing after a few blinks and a lick of the lips. He pulls the chair out completely and plays it off too grandly for it to have been nothing. His shoulders are too loose, his movements too comfortable.

It's just body language. A whiplash from tightly wound to overly relaxed that spans all of six seconds. Seven, at most. Short enough most people might blow it off as simple tension from where he is, or him simply being an oddball. Most people aren't Yuri. Yuri can read him like a book in most regards and he knows it.

So when he does sit, he gathers himself back to his usual. It's a chore not to immediately place his arms where he feels they should go. In the prisoner's role. On a leash. A chain. Minimal movement. Instead he props his elbows on the table and leans forward like they're having regular discussion over a desk. A regular discussion between two regular men. Will's eyes are well trained, extremely well acquainted with the maimed and marred. He doesn't bask in the open reveal of Yuri's scar, in his confinement. He doesn't shy away from looking him dead in the eye out of fear of his scar.

They could be at one of their dinners. And, oh, how Will would prefer that to be the case. He'd have been here sooner if not for the Porter's fingers in his business. Yuri wanted him to disobey, which is good. Will's prone to disobey when he feels it's the best course of action. Which is roughly 94% of the time.

He glances down, noting Yuri's fashion at last.

"You look too good in that color for it to be justice." Looks better than Will ever did, not that he'll add that aloud. Perhaps the twitch of his lips says it, that blip of an inside joke coming at his own expense. "How've you been treated?"

Will hasn't come around; allow him to cut through any shit and get to the most genuinely concerned part of the visit. The part he needs to know. Of course Yuri can handle himself, he doesn't doubt his abilities. But if there are unfit people within this system coming into contact with the man who brings sinners to justice, Will would like to have some head's up about it. They should have one as well, really. And better sense than to mess with someone who goes by Lunatic.

[insinerate]

Hesitation isn't like Will, not in Yuri's company. The other man had said it himself, that this was the sort of friendship he was most familiar with. Location oughtn't make that big a difference, not with so much shared between them already: blood, both bad and good, and more secrets than could fit inside Pandora's Box.

No, it was obvious to Yuri that something else was amiss. The way Will licked his lips before he pulled out the chair opposite him, before he took a seat he'd taken many times before, staring back at him from across a table, there was something different about it. Not as relaxed as Will would have him believe. Not as at ease as his posture might otherwise suggest. Though at least the way he made eye contact was typical. Appreciated even, especially when the confusion disappears along with the hardness and all that lingers in Will's expression is acceptance, the kind Yuri has come to expect from his friend. To both welcome and revile.

He's not convinced that concern for his well-being is what sparked Will's response, of course. It had undoubtedly been something he'd said, though in revisiting his words, he can think of nothing that could have been offensive. Truly, he's perplexed, but he nevertheless manages a small laugh at his friend's joke.

"I'm well enough," Yuri answers, and because he's not inclined to skirt around the subject now that Will's here, "Better now that you've returned. I had wondered, after Miles Edgeworth's disappearance, if I might not see you again."

[infomodder]

Acceptance is indeed what he finds, nothing more and nothing less. Will shows no disappointment, no hesitation. Oh, if Freddie Lounds could see them now! But she can't, murdered so long ago without anyone ever finding out who did the crime. Unbeknownst to him, the name that comes out of Yuri's mouth met a similar fate. That name is what has his eyebrows going up. Of course Yuri noticed he was gone. Such was just what friends did, notice each other's goings and comings even if they hadn't verbalized them yet. That's why social media existed. To help friends watch each other.

"I haven't heard from him." He won't mention their last encounter. That's a personal matter. And if Edgeworth comes back, it wouldn't do to potentially tarnish his name. A gas station. A raccoon with his stolen neckwear. No, no. Some things were best left only to those who experienced them. "He's gone and come back before. Just a waiting game now to see how it goes."

Three months. That's the rule. Will's followed it for Abigail with results both great and bleak. Unexpected and expected. He sees no reason to change a tried and true system with Abigail as the standard.

"I would've come sooner, but things have been. Different." He shrugs one shoulder, hand uselessly gesturing outward. Familiarity again. They could be having this conversation in Yuri's home for how back to normal and at ease he is. "You know how powers can change. Sometimes. When the Porter plays with us."