005 [video] forward-dated to around noon
[When the video feed is turned on, all that it shows is an office. It’s a tidy, smart-looking place, easily recognisable as one of those in the government building. There’s no sound save for footsteps, and the person recording is holding the NV facing outwards so that they are not visible.
The intent, or so it seems, is a tour of the office, as the one recording wanders around it, completely unhurried. Shots of shelves full of files, a sudden flare of brightness as the camera is briefly turned to look out of the window, fading again as it shifts back inside and stops on the desk. For a moment, the image is still, and then it moves quickly as the unseen individual strides purposefully around the desk. When it once again stills, the camera focuses on the name plaque on the desk.
“Miles Edgeworth”
It’s offered as though intended as proof. Indisputable proof of the location, of the fact that this is indeed the office it appears to be.
The image blurs, and there are sounds of fumbling as the NV is propped up on the desk. As soon as the camera is stable, aimed away from the window and towards the office door, the person now visible in the shot turns away. A few strides from the desk, and they stop.
The picture is lopsided, and that boyish figure is not entirely in the frame, but the strikingly silver hair now in view is unmistakeable. For once, however, that’s far from the most disconcerting thing about his appearance. When he turns back to look at the camera, malicious smirk playing on his lips, it suddenly becomes very clear what’s different:
He’s wearing a police uniform.]
Hello, Mr. Prosecutor. How do I look?
The intent, or so it seems, is a tour of the office, as the one recording wanders around it, completely unhurried. Shots of shelves full of files, a sudden flare of brightness as the camera is briefly turned to look out of the window, fading again as it shifts back inside and stops on the desk. For a moment, the image is still, and then it moves quickly as the unseen individual strides purposefully around the desk. When it once again stills, the camera focuses on the name plaque on the desk.
“Miles Edgeworth”
It’s offered as though intended as proof. Indisputable proof of the location, of the fact that this is indeed the office it appears to be.
The image blurs, and there are sounds of fumbling as the NV is propped up on the desk. As soon as the camera is stable, aimed away from the window and towards the office door, the person now visible in the shot turns away. A few strides from the desk, and they stop.
The picture is lopsided, and that boyish figure is not entirely in the frame, but the strikingly silver hair now in view is unmistakeable. For once, however, that’s far from the most disconcerting thing about his appearance. When he turns back to look at the camera, malicious smirk playing on his lips, it suddenly becomes very clear what’s different:
He’s wearing a police uniform.]
Hello, Mr. Prosecutor. How do I look?