[untitled] : Phoenix Wright : von Karma + Gregory Edgeworth : PG
Title: [untitled]
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Pairing/Characters: von Karma, Gregory Edgeworth (still gen-fic at the moment)
Rating: PG [for now]
Spoilers: Probably at least minor ones for PW : AA case 4 and tiny bits of Miles Edgeworth's history.
Warnings: none yet, but expect violence eventually
Word Count: 681 (so far)
Disclaimer: PW : AA and other games were not my brainchild, and no profit is sought for these works.
Permission to Archive: No. It isn't finished.
Status: in-progress
Date first written or posted: Jul. 28th, 2007
Notes: This was written in response to a drabble challenge for Blogathon '07, and was requested by lightningrapier. [prompt was von Karma/Gregory, black, argue, rain (smell of)]I started writing and it took off and became a monster, refusing to do anything I tell it to. Oh, wait, von Karma is in it. Of course that happened. >.> Anyway, no longer a drabble, but still not finished, it's sitting at almost 700 words right now, and I'm a little stuck. Enjoy what I have, love. Pester me for more later, and I'll see what I can do. No promises.
The clock in the corner chimed ten, drowning out the sound of the rain outside. Gregory Edgeworth grimaced at the sound. He really should have been home by now, Miles would be worried. At least there was someone there to take care of him; surely he’d be in bed by now, albeit probably not asleep. He would, as usual, struggle to stay awake until Gregory came in to tell him goodnight, no matter the hour, regardless of what he was told. The boy definitely had a defiant streak, although it was one that Gregory, himself, could appreciate. Hopefully the smell of the rain would put him to sleep. Miles had always liked the scent and Gregory smiled softly to think of it. It was, he admitted, a relaxing smell. He stood, crossing to the window and opened it just a crack, breathing in the scent. He closed his eyes for a moment before returning to his desk.
Bending back over his paperwork, he furrowed his brow. Just a little longer, Miles. I’ll be home soon, I promise.
Just a few moments later another noise sounded outside his door which caused less of a grimace and more of a flinch. Step, tap, step, tap. A familiar rhythm that had no place here, in Gregory’s public offices. It was a courtroom sound; a pacing, arrogant, infuriating sound, followed by silence, and then the sound of a knob turning. Gregory made a mental note to keep the door locked in the future, but it was too late now.
An imposing silhouette filled the entryway as the door eased open.
“Edgeworth.”
The voice dripped with self-importance.
“What do you want, von Karma,” Gregory’s reply was tired and annoyed. He was in no mood to deal with von Karma’s gloating.
The prosecutor said nothing, but took the acknowledgement as permission, and stepped over the threshold, swinging the door shut behind him with ceremony. The step-tap sound of his ebony cane and walking was muted in the carpeted interior of the room, but Gregory could still hear it in his mind. He narrowed his eyes.
“It wasn’t an invitation.”
Von Karma stopped in front of Gregory’s desk, a smile spreading across his lips. It was not, however, a comforting look. A smile on Manfred von Karma’s face was merely the dark manifestation of sadism and arrogance rather than camaraderie. To be certain, there was pleasure involved, but not of the standard type.
“Drop the case you’re working on,” von Karma advised. Straight to the point.
Gregory shook his head. “It isn’t going to happen, von Karma, and if he’s not guilty, you won’t win it either. In fact, if he was guilty, you wouldn’t be here. I know you’re not having a crisis of conscience, so I wonder,” Gregory paused and looked up, straight into von Karma’s face, unflinching. “Are you worried you might lose?”
Von Karma’s eyes narrowed. He slammed his hands down onto Gregory’s desk.
“I do not lose, Edgeworth.”
“It isn’t about competition. I wish you would realize that,” Gregory replied with some exasperation, turning his attention back toward his paperwork, dismissing von Karma.
The action only further enraged the prosecutor.
“You can not win,” von Karma spat.
“If you want to fight it out, learn a sport. This is about justice, Manfred.” Switching to von Karma’s first name was a large drop in respect, which would certainly not go
unnoticed. Gregory knew it was a foolish move, but he would not be intimidated by the other man. This was his office for crying out loud.
Von Karma’s face flushed a deep purple, and the prominent vein in his forehead pulsed. There were not words for his rage. He moved around the desk, pulling the chair back with some force, and leaving Gregory to face him.
Not having the desk between them was a bit unsettling for Gregory, but he simply stood, pushing the chair back, and raised to his full height - nearly a foot and a half shorter than von Karma’s impressive height. He looked straight up into von Karma’s eyes. Gregory was now 3 for 3 at this point, and von Karma had had enough.
“You will be respectful when addressing me. You will not treat me as a common person, and we are not friends,” von Karma instructed, voice tight. He was reining in his anger and re-imposing his self control.
“Respect is not given, Manfred,” Gregory replied coolly, daring, again, to use the prosecutor’s given name. “And this time, you have not earned it.”
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Pairing/Characters: von Karma, Gregory Edgeworth (still gen-fic at the moment)
Rating: PG [for now]
Spoilers: Probably at least minor ones for PW : AA case 4 and tiny bits of Miles Edgeworth's history.
Warnings: none yet, but expect violence eventually
Word Count: 681 (so far)
Disclaimer: PW : AA and other games were not my brainchild, and no profit is sought for these works.
Permission to Archive: No. It isn't finished.
Status: in-progress
Date first written or posted: Jul. 28th, 2007
Notes: This was written in response to a drabble challenge for Blogathon '07, and was requested by lightningrapier. [prompt was von Karma/Gregory, black, argue, rain (smell of)]I started writing and it took off and became a monster, refusing to do anything I tell it to. Oh, wait, von Karma is in it. Of course that happened. >.> Anyway, no longer a drabble, but still not finished, it's sitting at almost 700 words right now, and I'm a little stuck. Enjoy what I have, love. Pester me for more later, and I'll see what I can do. No promises.
The clock in the corner chimed ten, drowning out the sound of the rain outside. Gregory Edgeworth grimaced at the sound. He really should have been home by now, Miles would be worried. At least there was someone there to take care of him; surely he’d be in bed by now, albeit probably not asleep. He would, as usual, struggle to stay awake until Gregory came in to tell him goodnight, no matter the hour, regardless of what he was told. The boy definitely had a defiant streak, although it was one that Gregory, himself, could appreciate. Hopefully the smell of the rain would put him to sleep. Miles had always liked the scent and Gregory smiled softly to think of it. It was, he admitted, a relaxing smell. He stood, crossing to the window and opened it just a crack, breathing in the scent. He closed his eyes for a moment before returning to his desk.
Bending back over his paperwork, he furrowed his brow. Just a little longer, Miles. I’ll be home soon, I promise.
Just a few moments later another noise sounded outside his door which caused less of a grimace and more of a flinch. Step, tap, step, tap. A familiar rhythm that had no place here, in Gregory’s public offices. It was a courtroom sound; a pacing, arrogant, infuriating sound, followed by silence, and then the sound of a knob turning. Gregory made a mental note to keep the door locked in the future, but it was too late now.
An imposing silhouette filled the entryway as the door eased open.
“Edgeworth.”
The voice dripped with self-importance.
“What do you want, von Karma,” Gregory’s reply was tired and annoyed. He was in no mood to deal with von Karma’s gloating.
The prosecutor said nothing, but took the acknowledgement as permission, and stepped over the threshold, swinging the door shut behind him with ceremony. The step-tap sound of his ebony cane and walking was muted in the carpeted interior of the room, but Gregory could still hear it in his mind. He narrowed his eyes.
“It wasn’t an invitation.”
Von Karma stopped in front of Gregory’s desk, a smile spreading across his lips. It was not, however, a comforting look. A smile on Manfred von Karma’s face was merely the dark manifestation of sadism and arrogance rather than camaraderie. To be certain, there was pleasure involved, but not of the standard type.
“Drop the case you’re working on,” von Karma advised. Straight to the point.
Gregory shook his head. “It isn’t going to happen, von Karma, and if he’s not guilty, you won’t win it either. In fact, if he was guilty, you wouldn’t be here. I know you’re not having a crisis of conscience, so I wonder,” Gregory paused and looked up, straight into von Karma’s face, unflinching. “Are you worried you might lose?”
Von Karma’s eyes narrowed. He slammed his hands down onto Gregory’s desk.
“I do not lose, Edgeworth.”
“It isn’t about competition. I wish you would realize that,” Gregory replied with some exasperation, turning his attention back toward his paperwork, dismissing von Karma.
The action only further enraged the prosecutor.
“You can not win,” von Karma spat.
“If you want to fight it out, learn a sport. This is about justice, Manfred.” Switching to von Karma’s first name was a large drop in respect, which would certainly not go
unnoticed. Gregory knew it was a foolish move, but he would not be intimidated by the other man. This was his office for crying out loud.
Von Karma’s face flushed a deep purple, and the prominent vein in his forehead pulsed. There were not words for his rage. He moved around the desk, pulling the chair back with some force, and leaving Gregory to face him.
Not having the desk between them was a bit unsettling for Gregory, but he simply stood, pushing the chair back, and raised to his full height - nearly a foot and a half shorter than von Karma’s impressive height. He looked straight up into von Karma’s eyes. Gregory was now 3 for 3 at this point, and von Karma had had enough.
“You will be respectful when addressing me. You will not treat me as a common person, and we are not friends,” von Karma instructed, voice tight. He was reining in his anger and re-imposing his self control.
“Respect is not given, Manfred,” Gregory replied coolly, daring, again, to use the prosecutor’s given name. “And this time, you have not earned it.”