[March 17, 2019: Franziska von Karma and Miles Edgeworth]
Title: Memories
Characters Involved: Franziska von Karma and Miles Edgeworth
Approximate Time of Day: 7:25 pm
Location: Franziska’s Apartment
Summary (so far): On the anniversary of Manfred von Karma’s death, Franziska talks with her little brother.
Completed?: [y/n]
Franziska didn’t like being home; in fact, she hardly saw it as home. It was just a place to rest her head at nights because she wasn’t allowed to sleep at the Prosecutor’s Office, not to mention the fact that doing so anyway would give people the impression that she didn’t have enough money to afford a place of her own.
She hadn’t even gone to the office today; after all, there was no point. It was Sunday, she had finished all her paperwork, and she still had no proper cases to work on. She’d spent her day browsing stores and purchasing decorative furniture; while she had the bare essentials of what was required for living in her apartment, it was hardly a place she was comfortable spending extended amounts of time in.
It was strange how a rug brightened up the atmosphere considerably; now her bedroom looked a lot more like her room back home, and considerably more inviting than it had this morning. She would have been tempted to hang her whip up, take off her shoes and go to sleep, if only her little brother had not rung her early this morning to inform her that he was coming over at half-past seven that evening.
She didn’t really want Miles to visit her apartment at all, but she had to admit it was better than any alternative. Perhaps Miles’s impending arrival had been what had inspired her to decorate the place; after all, she didn’t want him to see her bare-walled and scantily furnished apartment. She didn’t need anyone, least of all her little brother, casting any judgements on her living standards.
In her small living room, she had displayed a picture of a rolling German landscape above her unused television set, and looking at the painting now, she almost wished she hadn’t. The pang of homesickness that always accompanied her grew until it almost became overwhelming.
The clock on the coffee table had also been bought that morning. Although the clock itself was reasonably heavy and would probably make a good projectile if such circumstances arose, its hands were delicate and currently indicating the time to be precisely half-past seven. Franziska frowned. There was no way her clock would be displaying the incorrect time; she had checked it and wound it carefully before leaving the store. Her brother would be here any moment now; Miles Edgeworth was never late.
She carefully took a seat on her sofa, her whip curled up on her lap, as she waited for the knock on her door.
Characters Involved: Franziska von Karma and Miles Edgeworth
Approximate Time of Day: 7:25 pm
Location: Franziska’s Apartment
Summary (so far): On the anniversary of Manfred von Karma’s death, Franziska talks with her little brother.
Completed?: [y/n]
Franziska didn’t like being home; in fact, she hardly saw it as home. It was just a place to rest her head at nights because she wasn’t allowed to sleep at the Prosecutor’s Office, not to mention the fact that doing so anyway would give people the impression that she didn’t have enough money to afford a place of her own.
She hadn’t even gone to the office today; after all, there was no point. It was Sunday, she had finished all her paperwork, and she still had no proper cases to work on. She’d spent her day browsing stores and purchasing decorative furniture; while she had the bare essentials of what was required for living in her apartment, it was hardly a place she was comfortable spending extended amounts of time in.
It was strange how a rug brightened up the atmosphere considerably; now her bedroom looked a lot more like her room back home, and considerably more inviting than it had this morning. She would have been tempted to hang her whip up, take off her shoes and go to sleep, if only her little brother had not rung her early this morning to inform her that he was coming over at half-past seven that evening.
She didn’t really want Miles to visit her apartment at all, but she had to admit it was better than any alternative. Perhaps Miles’s impending arrival had been what had inspired her to decorate the place; after all, she didn’t want him to see her bare-walled and scantily furnished apartment. She didn’t need anyone, least of all her little brother, casting any judgements on her living standards.
In her small living room, she had displayed a picture of a rolling German landscape above her unused television set, and looking at the painting now, she almost wished she hadn’t. The pang of homesickness that always accompanied her grew until it almost became overwhelming.
The clock on the coffee table had also been bought that morning. Although the clock itself was reasonably heavy and would probably make a good projectile if such circumstances arose, its hands were delicate and currently indicating the time to be precisely half-past seven. Franziska frowned. There was no way her clock would be displaying the incorrect time; she had checked it and wound it carefully before leaving the store. Her brother would be here any moment now; Miles Edgeworth was never late.
She carefully took a seat on her sofa, her whip curled up on her lap, as she waited for the knock on her door.