Coming to you live from a very steamy journal post~
Why, hello there, kittens! I'm Kanji, esteemed reporter of all things fabulous and ever so delightfully naughty, and I'm here with a most special update for a fandom just beginning its long, hard... journey into adulthood~!
SHIN MEGAMI TENSEI: PERSONA 4 KINK MEME
In this scintillating post of mine, you can comment anonymously with any pairing ( Read more... )
SHIN MEGAMI TENSEI: PERSONA 4 KINK MEME
In this scintillating post of mine, you can comment anonymously with any pairing ( Read more... )
The question set Powers right back to being sheepish again. "I'm glad to be on the Samurai set again. Definitely," he said. "But, er ..."
"Ooooh, that's right," said Molly, tapping her cheek artfully. "What fans and press alike are calling 'The Curse of the Evil Magistrate' -- it's already struck, hasn't it?"
Klavier's smile instantly vanished, and Rise sat up straighter in her seat. "I ..." started Powers, curling in on himself a little. The gesture looked very strange for someone with a frame as massive as his was. "We're all very concerned about the loss. Aggie's been running photoshoots for a long time."
"And it hasn't even been three years since the first time something like this happened, has it?" Molly signaled to someone on the staff, and a picture of the trio replaced the video clip on the screen. Powers was dressed in full Evil Magistrate regalia, with Pink Princess Rise flanking him on one side and Klavier in the Steel Samurai costume on the other. (The costume did not include a headpiece, meaning that this particular Samural was quite blond.) "She was the one in charge of your photoshoot, you know. Are you concerned about your own safety, Mr. Powers?"
Powers tried very hard not to look miserable. "I-I think there's the rest of the crew to worry about first ..."
"Security is tighter, of course," said Klavier, eyes hidden by his sunglasses. "I think this isn't the time to be panicking, ja?"
Another image flashed on the screen: a picture of their photographer dangling from the bridge. Once again, a faint shock went through all three of the actors. Rise clasped one hand to her mouth, as if to keep from blurting something out. "It's your first time seeing the picture, isn't it?" said Molly. "This is one crazy case! How do you think the killer got the body from Los Angeles to San Francisco in one night?"
"Um," said Rise, "I think I need a break. Please?" Hands clasped in her lap and eyes wide, she was the very picture of a scared young woman.
Molly hesitated for half a beat before flashing the camera another smile. "We'll find out what they think about this ... after a few words from our sponsors!"
Once the cameras had stopped rolling, Rise got up. She made it almost backstage before Klavier caught her gently by the arm. "Fraulein," he said. "She is a terrible woman. Don't let it get to you."
"I'm not. I've had worse," she said. She stood with her back to him and rummaged through her handbag. When she turned back, she held a cellphone in one hand. "Thanks, though. You're sweet."
Klavier nodded. He still held himself stifly, fingers twisted against the pockets of his pants. Something was up; if his lawyer-senses hadn't picked it up, then his ability to read people would have. "Can I help?"
She gave him a bright (though slightly strained) smile. "Don't worry, Klav," she said. Meanwhile, her thumb flicked over the cellphone's keypad. "I just have to call a friend."
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PS Captcha says: increases officer. Even it sees how awesome this is!
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Adachi Tohru was either the best or the worst liar that Nick had ever met.
The interrogation had gone normally enough, at first. There'd been the usual round of opening questions: name, occupation, etc. while Nick stealthily manuevered the magatama into a position. But once they got to the subject of Adachi's modus operandi, the interrogation started to get ... weird.
"How'd I do it the first time, huh?" Adachi smiled and shrugged, looking sheepish. It formed a strange contrast with Shirogane's absolutely monotone translation. "You know, I don't think you'd believe me even I told you."
Nick glanced at the magatama. Not even a flicker. "Try me?" he said, repressing the urge to sigh. "I've probably had weirder, to be honest."
"Like the circus!" interjected Maya. "And the circus again! And his dead ex-girlfriend!"
"Yeah, like -- " Nick stopped suddenly. Something told him that telling Adachi about Dahlia was not the best idea in the world. "Um, Mr. Shirogane? Don't translate that last part."
Shirogane nodded. "As you wish." And then he tilted his head to one side, words flowing into the usual curious patter of Japanese syllables.
"The circus? Sounds like fun," said Adachi. His smile widened: a perfect mask of affability. "Though it wasn't really a circus trick. Definitely something much bigger than that." And then he turned towards Shirogane and said something that the detective did not repeat.
"Huh?" Nick blinked. "Er, I didn't get that last part."
Shirogane reddened slightly. "An inappropriate comment, Mr. Wright," he said. Though his expression remained as calm and collected as ever, the hand on his hip tightened its grip. "I do not think that translating sexism would contribute to the conversation at hand."
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"Lacking, huh?" Adachi shrugged cheerfully. "I guess that's the best a backwater police department can do." Then he leaned forward, almost conspiratorily. Although that smile hadn't left his face, his eyes looked very keen and sharp indeed. "Not that it matters," he continued, staring at Nick with one eye. "You've already decided I'm guilty. So what's the point in confessing anything else?"
Suddenly, the air-conditioning in the detention center seemed oppressively cold. Nick shivered. He had to admit that he'd given that possibility more thought than he should have. Despite the overwhelming number of murder cases he'd handled, it had never been the case that his client had been already been declared guilty of a previous murder. Other crimes, sure. Murder? Not so much. But even as those thoughts drifted through his mind, he couldn't help but remember Edgeworth's initial phone call. Edgeworth was just as devoted to the truth as Nick himself was. If there weren't something bigger going on, this whole conversation wouldn't be happening to begin with.
( Exactly. What am I doing? ) Straightening up a bit, Phoenix forced himself to look Adachi in the eye. "Mr. Adachi," he said, quietly but firmly, "I once had an amazing mentor. She taught me everything I know."
"Oh? How nice."
Phoenix shook his head. "Not just nice. She was ... " A glance at Maya. "Anyway, she told me something very important. That you always have have to believe in the innocence of your client." Just saying the words made him feel lighter, like cutting through a thick fog of doubt. "And I do, Mr. Adachi," he continued. "We'll do our absolute best to find out the truth."
Whatever reaction he'd expected out of Adachi, it certainly didn't match what actually happened. Adachi stared for a long moment, as if in shock. Then he seemed to draw himself up as well, head cocked at a strange, alien angle. In the glare of the detention center's florescent lights, his eyes seemed strangely ... gold-colored. "The truth? You really think you can figure out the truth?" A thick laugh curdled up from his chest. In the same instant, Nick's magatama glowed brightly -- and he was suddenly blinded by a flurry of police tape. It coiled around Adachi, sending strands of yellow and black up to the ceiling, across the interrogation window, onto every available surface. If they were supposed psych locks, then they were unlike any that Phoenix had ever seen before. The line of tape seemed to curve into itself, with no beginning or middle or end. And no apparent points of entry, either. Adachi almost seemed suspended in midair, trapped in a strait jacket of yellow and black.
His client leaned forward, smile looking more and more deranged by the minute. "I kind of doubt that, Mr. Wright," he breathed. "But it might be fun to watch you try."
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They blew through the hot California afternoon in Klavier's convertible, the wind twisting Rise's already-curly hair into a mass of reddish ringlets. "Thanks again!" she shouted into the wind. "You can just drop me off at the door!"
Klavier waved her off. The other hand remained steady and casual on the wheel as he guided them expertly through traffic. "Nein, nein," he said. "I have a few errands of my own to take care of."
"So you really are a lawyer?"
"Ja." Klavier flashed her a smile. "They exaggerate a little, but not much."
Rise laughed a little. "Sorry for doubting you. I just think it's enough work just being an idol, y'know?"
"That it is," said Klavier. He looked over at her, thoughtful. "Though I would say that you are unusual for realizing that, fraulein."
"Most people probably didn't do the kind of things I did," she admitted, closing her eyes and letting the breeze wash over her. Bits of memory floated to the surface of her mind: her shadow self, the Midnight Channel, long talks with Souji. "It was a lot of work."
Another smile from Klavier. "We all have our own ways of doing things, ja?" The car swerved sharply as he brought the car into a parking spot just outside the police department building. Both Rise and Klavier got out shortly afterwards, with Rise cupping one hand over her eyes as she peered out across the hot asphalt. No familiar cars here just yet. "You want to wait inside?" asked Klavier, following her gaze. "It would be a little cooler."
Rise nodded. "I was planning on it anyway.".
"Ah, because your friend has other duties here," Klavier said with a nod. "I remember. Shall we, then?" He flourished his hand; Rise suppressed a giggle and took it. There was something terribly silly about being escorted up the stained, chipped steps of the old Police Department building.
Inside, however, it wasn't much cooler; in fact, Rise wished she'd stayed outside, where there'd been a sturdy breeze. "Is it just me, or is it still really warm in here?" she asked, opening the door to the front offices.
Suddenly, someone hit her. Barreled into her? She couldn't tell; either way, the impact knocked her off her feet and smack onto the hard stone floors. "Ow!" she yelped, a sentiment echoed by her attacker -- followed shortly by the whump and swish of a thousand sheets of paperwork hitting teh floor. Glaring, she looked around for whoever had hit her ... and found herself eye to eye with an enormous stack of paperwork. It shifted with a moan.
Klavier offered her a hand, still peering curiously at the pile. "Nothing damaged, I hope?"
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Before Rise could open her mouth to reply, the pile suddenly exploded upwards. He was quite small, with a round face and disheveled brown hair, out of which jutted two antennae-like (and thoroughly crumpled) spikes of hair. His dark red slacks and white button-up shirt looked terribly wrinkled; he was probably dying from the heat or something. “I’m sorry!” he said. “I wasn’t watching - oof!” The boy had attempted to jump to his feet, only to be thwarted by the weight of the paperwork.
Whatever anger Rise had felt at being knocked into, it quickly drained away. Instead, she suppressed a giggle. “I’m all right,” she said, getting to her feet easily. “I think you’d be better off helping him,” she added to Klavier.
He chuckled. “Ja, I think so.” He extended a hand towards the tiny paperwork boy. “Did you get lost, perhaps?”
The boy flushed. He ignored Klavier’s hand and struggled instead, though every movement just threatened to bury him deeper in the paperwork. “I’m an intern!” he said, his vocal chords squeaking forcefully.
“Tut mir leid,” Klavier replied, resting the rejected hand back on his hip and leaning forward, his grin widening. “I simply did not realize that we were hiring grade schoolers nowadays.”
“Gradeschooler!?” With a slight pop and a rush of moving paper, the boy finally managed to draw himself up to his full height. Taller than Rise had expected, but still quite small. “I’m Apollo Justice! Fifteen years old! Definitely not a grade schooler!”
Klavier laughed again, almost affectionately. “Ja, ja, and a very cute fifteen-year-old you are. And who are you working for, Herr Intern?”
“Justice,” said Apollo, frowning vigorously. “And I’m - er -” He glanced helplessly at the mound of paperwork on the floor.
“- are a go-fer. I see.”
“An intern with a wide variety of job requirements!” said Apollo. “I make sure everything runs smoothly for Mr. Gavin.”
“Of course-” And then Klavier paused, staring at the young intern. “Gavin?” he said. “Do you mean Kristoph?”
“Mr. Kristoph Gavin, yes.” Apollo stooped and began scraping his paperwork together.
“… well!” said Klavier, recovering. “Then I am even more surprised. He must be very desperate for workers if he has resorted to hiring grade schoolers.”
“High school! High school sophomore!”
“Oh, stop it,” said Rise, though she couldn’t help but giggle a little herself. Carefully, she knelt on the floor and began helping him with his papers. TEven her excellent English couldn’t make much sense of it; legalese would have been a pain to decipher even in Japanese. Still, she kept her eyes peeled… “You’re bigger than he is, Klavier.”
Apollo stared at the blond prosecutor. “Klavier? You mean -”
“Kristoph’s younger brother, ja.” His smirk had a touch of steel to it. “Any more questions, Herr Intern?”
The intern reddened stubbornly. “Yes,” he said. “When are you leaving?”
Klavier just chuckled again, then finally leaned down to join the others in their paperwork-cleaning enterprise. “After we get this cleaned up, I think.”
As they cleaned (and the two boys bickered), Rise continued to glanced through the paperwork. After a few minutes, she was rewarded with a small packet near the bottom of the stack. State of California vs. Tohru Adachi, freshly printed and dated, with a number of smaller envelopes clipped to the back. After a quick glance to make sure that the boys were still bickering, she slipped the packet into her purse. Not to steal, of course! A quick trip to the copy machine and Doujima-san’s desk would get her a copy and the document safely back in the hands of the police.
And in the meantime, she knew of at least one person who’d be interested in the information.
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"An' this is our mascot, junior pals! The Blue Badger!"
Not that any of this seemed to be stopping Teddie. He repeated Gumshoe's words with a flourish, his hands hidden by the too-long sleeves of Gumshoe's trenchcoat. "We -- I mean they -- just made it up a few years ago! Isn't it great?"
"That bear's really enjoying himself, isn't he," sighed Chie. Smart girl -- she'd grabbed a few spare scraps of paperwork off someone's desk and had folded it into a fan. "D'you think he even feels the heat when he's like that?"
"If he doesn't, that's beyond unfair." The back of Yousuke's neck felt absolutely soaked with sweat. God, what he wouldn't give for a pool and a couple of iced drinks right about now. "When is this supposed to be over again?"
Yukiko fanned herself with another piece of paperwork, stolen in the same way as Chie's. "I don't remember," she said. "I gave the sheet to ... Kanji-kun?"
"... socute."
"Dude, you're scaring me," said Yousuke.
Kanji reluctantly pried his eyes away from the chubby excuse for a police mascot. "I was just lookin'," he said. "You wanna make somethin' of it?"
"Guys, come on," said Chie, moving between the two of them. "I think I overheard something about air conditioning over there." She pointed at a long, dark-looking hallway that lead off into another building. A metal sign had been set into the wall next to it: D-E-N...something...
"Doesn't that say 'Detention Center'?" Yukiko leaned forward, trying to get a better look at it. "I think that's where they keep the criminals."
Yousuke scowled. "So they get AC and we don't? No fair." He was whining a little, and he knew it, but frankly, he was too hot to care. Pool. Cold drinks. Happy thoughts.
"Everything's unfair to you," said Chie. "Besides ... " she added, glancing back at the tour group, "they look pretty busy.
Yousuke stared down the long hallway. It looked dark and deliciously cool, and the shadows clung to the walls in an ordinary way. Criminals or not, Yousuke liked this plan quite a bit. "Then what're we standing around here for?" he said, leading the way down the hallway. It felt strange having anyone else leading the group, but hell, Souji wasn't here right now.
As soon as they had all entered the hallway, however, Yousuke began to have second thoughts. It was cooler, yes, but he found himself sticking close to the walls, unable to relax. "Uh, are we really 'sposed to be comin' down this way?" said Kanji, hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders rigid. "I don't really feel like gettin' busted."
"Just a little further," said Chie. But her voice seemed a little unsteady as well. "If anyone yells at us, we just have to pretend we don't speak any English, right?"
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Yukiko barely suppressed a squeak. "Um. Did anyone just hear ...?"
"Ooooooorgh. Ugh."
The low moan echoed in the hallway. Yousuke immediately flattened himself against the wall, followed shortly by Chie (peeking out from behind his shoulder) and Yukiko (behind Chie's). Only Kanji stood in the middle of the hallway, posed halfway between flight and fight. "Kanji!" hissed Yousuke. "Don't just stand there, dumbass!"
"I thought I heard somethin'."
"We all did!" said Chie, just a little more loudly than Yousuke. "Why do you think we're doing this?"
Kanji shook his head. "It ain't just that." But he joined them anyway, looking out nervously over the tops of their heads. "The hell do you think it is?"
"Ghost," said Chie. "Of a dead criminal, I bet. Someone's murderous ex-girlfriend who got killed in the electric chair--"
"Dude, there's no such thing," Yousuke whispered. "Besides, it's a guy's voice--"
"And platform shoes," added Kanji.
"And -- wait, what?"
"I heard a woman's voice too," said Yukiko, cutting in before Kanji could reply. "I think they're talking in English."
The four of them fell silent for a long moment, listening, until Yousuke finally said, "Guys, I can't see anything like this. I'm moving up." And he did so, stealthily creeping up towards the bend in the path. The others followed, a bit more hesitantly, until all four of them could peek their heads around the corner. (Somehow, Yousuke ended up on the bottom again. How the hell did that keep happening?)
Despite their best efforts, however, they couldn't see much. Several of the lights had burnt out in this section, which made things difficult. And not just for them, if the noises were any indication. The moaning thing kept bumping into the walls, accompanied by a flurry of words in English. ("Nick! That's a wall, silly!" or "Perhaps you should proceed a little more cautiously, Mr. Wright." Nicks and lights? Weird.) Kanji kept poking his head out farther and farther, his face a mask of concentration.
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