The choice for you is the view to a kill
Who: Diego Armando and a special guest star
When: November 3rd, a little before noon
Where: The courthouse and the surrounding sketchy alleys
Summary: A little incident distracts Diego from attending the preliminary hearing of his suit against AGI. (Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na...)
Warnings: Violence and blood, language... coffee-related metaphors.
[The trial wasn't meant to start until around 1:00, so Diego was certain to arrive at the courthouse well before the media began to assemble out on the steps. The inevitability of a press conference was looming on the horizon, and Diego had resigned himself to speaking at one... after the hearing. He didn't especially want the distraction beforehand. Not when he needed to really nail this trial in order to get anywhere in his case.
If he was going to do this by himself, proving himself as a prosecutor without Edgeworth to aide him, he had to impress the judge today. Prove this wasn't just a grudge, nor a petty complaint, nor the bias of a Newcomer influencing his decision to press charges. The laws of the city had been entrusted to AGI and they were being twisted for the company's favor. Diego didn't agree with all the laws of the city, but they were his laws, dammit, and he hated to see them sullied in the name of that sickening company's profits.
He got off the subway around 10, giving him enough time to enjoy breakfast and a leisurely 14 cups of coffee at the cafe down the street from the courthouse. His briefcase in hand and an empty paper coffee cup in the other, he walks up the grand steps of the courthouse. The sky is dark and ominous, gray with clouds that will develop into storms before too long-- but only threatening for the moment. He's looking out for reporters out of the corner of his eye as he heads over to a recycle bin to throw the cup away. No sign of them, good. He could make it to the prosecutor's lobby and go over his notes one more time before he steps into the lion's den. This was always the--]
Don't say a word.
[The voice comes from over his shoulder. Diego goes perfectly still, though the shock of the moment gives him the urge to spin around and punch the assailant in the head-- a very bad idea, as he now feels the hard barrel of a gun press against his side, even through the fabric of his coat.
There is a moment of tense silence as his thoughts race. Who is this man? What does he want? Is he about to die? The moment seems an eternity before the gunman finally does something else, pushing the gun into his back to encourage him to walk.
The visor's peripheral vision lets him see the man off to the side as he takes his place alongside the prosecutor, walking with a hand around his back. He's a skinny man with sallow eyes, a thatch of thinning hair on his head, wearing a suit with a press tag-- dressed as a reporter. Anyone who looks will think Diego is simply being interviewed as he leads him off towards the west side of the courthouse and back down the steps.]
Keep walking. If you draw any attention to yourself, I'll blow a hole in you.
[Diego licks his lips and lets out a short breath, speaking in a low voice.]
All right. Don't shoot. I'm walking.
[Welp. Prosecution is never boring, is it?]
When: November 3rd, a little before noon
Where: The courthouse and the surrounding sketchy alleys
Summary: A little incident distracts Diego from attending the preliminary hearing of his suit against AGI. (Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na...)
Warnings: Violence and blood, language... coffee-related metaphors.
[The trial wasn't meant to start until around 1:00, so Diego was certain to arrive at the courthouse well before the media began to assemble out on the steps. The inevitability of a press conference was looming on the horizon, and Diego had resigned himself to speaking at one... after the hearing. He didn't especially want the distraction beforehand. Not when he needed to really nail this trial in order to get anywhere in his case.
If he was going to do this by himself, proving himself as a prosecutor without Edgeworth to aide him, he had to impress the judge today. Prove this wasn't just a grudge, nor a petty complaint, nor the bias of a Newcomer influencing his decision to press charges. The laws of the city had been entrusted to AGI and they were being twisted for the company's favor. Diego didn't agree with all the laws of the city, but they were his laws, dammit, and he hated to see them sullied in the name of that sickening company's profits.
He got off the subway around 10, giving him enough time to enjoy breakfast and a leisurely 14 cups of coffee at the cafe down the street from the courthouse. His briefcase in hand and an empty paper coffee cup in the other, he walks up the grand steps of the courthouse. The sky is dark and ominous, gray with clouds that will develop into storms before too long-- but only threatening for the moment. He's looking out for reporters out of the corner of his eye as he heads over to a recycle bin to throw the cup away. No sign of them, good. He could make it to the prosecutor's lobby and go over his notes one more time before he steps into the lion's den. This was always the--]
Don't say a word.
[The voice comes from over his shoulder. Diego goes perfectly still, though the shock of the moment gives him the urge to spin around and punch the assailant in the head-- a very bad idea, as he now feels the hard barrel of a gun press against his side, even through the fabric of his coat.
There is a moment of tense silence as his thoughts race. Who is this man? What does he want? Is he about to die? The moment seems an eternity before the gunman finally does something else, pushing the gun into his back to encourage him to walk.
The visor's peripheral vision lets him see the man off to the side as he takes his place alongside the prosecutor, walking with a hand around his back. He's a skinny man with sallow eyes, a thatch of thinning hair on his head, wearing a suit with a press tag-- dressed as a reporter. Anyone who looks will think Diego is simply being interviewed as he leads him off towards the west side of the courthouse and back down the steps.]
Keep walking. If you draw any attention to yourself, I'll blow a hole in you.
[Diego licks his lips and lets out a short breath, speaking in a low voice.]
All right. Don't shoot. I'm walking.
[Welp. Prosecution is never boring, is it?]