Oh snaps, an Earthquake [UNFINISHED]
Who: Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright, Maya Fey
Where: In room 105 of the first tenement building, Phoenix's apartment.
When: During the earthquake.
What: Upon Lana's request, Edgeworth heads for a walk, a nice shower, and attempts to forget his angsty feelings over the whole Ema situation before the earthquake. Did I mention that Edgeworth is ( Read more... )
Where: In room 105 of the first tenement building, Phoenix's apartment.
When: During the earthquake.
What: Upon Lana's request, Edgeworth heads for a walk, a nice shower, and attempts to forget his angsty feelings over the whole Ema situation before the earthquake. Did I mention that Edgeworth is ( Read more... )
Until, of course, Phoenix found him. Dammit.
He couldn't exactly make out what the other lawyer said: it was his voice, he knew for sure, he just.. couldn't comprehend what was said. Or the tone. Or why suddenly he wasn't on the floor anymore, vaguely aware of a change in position. What was going on? He couldn't tell. Then there was another voice, but that one made no sense either.
Why did they sound worried? Miles couldn't figure it out.
All his mind was concerned about was the earth shaking. The darkness wasn't helping either, and his lungs were convinced that there was no oxygen around him. His rational thinking was disregarded, as of course he was trapped in an elevator, even though he wasn't. It didn't matter the location: the scene was prominent in his mind, forcing the prosecutor to relive it.
Phoenix would certainly be able to tell he's trembling. Even his breathing was off: ragged and irregular. Frantic. Why couldn't he breathe? No, he's certainly still alive, and minus the feeble attempt at clinging to Phoenix's shirt like a scared boy with a crapload of demons over his head, he doesn't do much else.
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He hated earthquakes -- if only because of this. The last time he'd seen Edgeworth like this had been during that trial, and the thick pane of glass that separated them made Phoenix feel so damn helpless.
But even when Phoenix could touch him, there was nothing he could do.
"Of course he's not dead, Maya," Phoenix said, almost too sharply. He wasn't mad at her -- just... scared. "Edgeworth, please, shh, calm down... it's okay..."
The tremors were getting fainter, or so Phoenix thought. Hopefully they would stop entirely...
Damnit, why did this have to happen here, too!?
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"A-ah, I see. Sorry, Nick. . ." She bowed her head in apology for a few moments, before looking up again.
"Is. . . is there anything I can do, Nick? Anything I can get that might help. . .?" She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, placing a finger to her chin. "Maybe. . . maybe a glass of water for when he wakes up?"
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Would they not shut up? They were talking and Miles couldn't make sense of a word of it. They had to be talking about him. They were making fun of him, weren't they? They had to be. Nobody was supposed to know about this. His eyes clenched tighter, trying to calm down, to stop being so weak.. he could feel the earthquakes slowing down, stopping.
Was that it? Or was it going to start again?
"..Nnng." Ow. Suddenly, he could move again, the hyperventilation of his respiratory system stopped and his lungs ached. He looked up at Phoenix with confusion, more like a 'what are you doing here?' type face as his mind reverted back to reality.
And then Maya was noticed, and he realized that he was still clinging to Phoenix like a small child. He pulled back with a gasp, which aggravated his lungs further and caused him to start coughing, trying to equal out the oxygen deprivation he went through during his 'episode'.
"What are.. you two.. doing here?" He managed once he could talk without coughing violently.
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He glanced back to Maya. Water might be a good idea, but he didn't think Edgeworth would accept it. Or be able to breathe long enough to drink it...
"No thanks," he said, managing a little smile. His gaze shifted back to Edgeworth. Phoenix reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright...?"
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With a sigh, the teen stood up and placed her hands behind her back, watching the two carefully. They both looked so tired, as though they hadn't slept well.
Shifting uneasily, Maya moved her gaze to the floor. She, in all honesty, had no idea what to do in this situation -- she felt horrible for the poor prosecutor, but didn't want to aggrivate the poor man, either. So for now, she kept her gaze down, and her mouth shut.
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Trying to repair some of his pride started with his voice. "Water would be appreciated, Maya." The nervous quiver to his voice was replaced with his normal steeled tone as he inclined his head slightly towards the kitchen. "There should be a bottle on the counter by the sink."
The weight on his shoulder was greeted subconsciously by a shoulder that tightened under the touch. There was a chance that Phoenix pitied him, and it bothered him. He moved to brush it off entirely, but he hesitated, and instead looked towards the floor.
"I'm fine."
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"Okay." He smiled, a little, finally pulling his hand away. Glancing back towards Maya, he shrugged a little, then turned his gaze back to Edgeworth. He didn't pity the man, really -- well, maybe a little. But really, Phoenix was mostly just worried about him.
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"Here you go, Mr. Edgeworth. Anything else?" She tilted her head to the side, giving the man a worried look. The teen stood straight again, placing her hands behind her back.
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Sure, such a lifestyle was disregarded years ago, but certain teachings are hard to break immediately and entirely.
For the remaining duration that Phoenix kept his hand on his shoulder, Miles didn't try to brush it off. Nor did he really react to it, as he just kind of leaned against the couch, making no move to get up off the floor or anything at the moment. When Maya left the room he did move his hand to quickly rub at his eyes.
Figures the only time he got brought to tears was during the single event that haunted him forever. Mentally he scowled at his weakness, although he dared not bring further attention to it: Phoenix was the only readily available outlet, and he would not lash out at him. So not looking at him or anything was a more readily available option.
Where was Gumshoe when Miles needed him to kick around?
Maya returned, and Miles managed a slight smile as he took the bottle from her. "No, thank you. I am alright now." The bottle was uncapped slowly, as his hands were still trembling a little, and he took a sip of it before recapping it.
Hesitantly, he rose to his feet, leaning against the couch for support. His heart rate at least slowed down slightly, enough so he wouldn't become dizzy and topple over, but it never hurt to be careful.
"I am going to return to the warehouse now."
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He trailed off, lamely. Great, Phoenix. You sound so very confident.
"Aftershocks," he managed, finally. "There could be..."
Yeah.
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Her eyes widened a bit at the mention of poor Miles going back to the. . . warehouse? She wasn't sure where that was, or what it had to do with anything. . . but she nodded to Phoenix's statement.
"Ah, Mr. Edgeworth -- m-maybe you should stay? Just for a little while? Or. . . or at least let us walk you back. . .?"
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If looks could kill, Phoenix would be in trouble, as he received a nice Miles glare in response.
Either way, he was outnumbered, and while the concern was appreciated, he was more than capable, at least in his mind, that he could make it to the warehouse. "Fine, I will stay for a little while longer, just to make sure that-"
As if on spite, an aftershock actually happened, caused by the earth shifting back to normal after the unnatural earthquake. Whether it be by strict timing or something in the city deciding to be a jerk, the ground shook again, but not as badly as before. Miles widened his eyes in surprise, and fell backwards on the couch, the capped bottle falling from his hand.
The shock was over as he hit the couch, but that didn't help alleviate the panic that settled on his face once more.
The city was out to kill him. The church knew his weakness and was going to use it to drive him insane. The feelings of paranoia, among the panic, were not helping.
And he just got his breathing normalized too.
"...that they are gone.." Unintentionally he gasped, leaning against the arm of the couch, the hand resting on the arm of the couch pressing to his forehead.
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He frowned, crossing his arms. If Maya wasn't around, he'd solve this easily -- but he didn't think he could put his arms around Miles Edgeworth with the spirit medium in the room.
...Or any other time, for that matter.
"Err... it should just be a few," he said, managing a very very thin smile. "Then Maya and I will head over there with you."
Only then Phoenix remembered what was going on in the warehouse, and he cringed. Maya didn't need to be involved in that, but how was Phoenix going to keep it from her!?
...There was just no way.
"Hey... Maya," he said, carefully, trying to figure out a way to explain. "Listen. Something... something bad happened before you got here involving Matt Engarde, alright? He... he hurt someone. And you're probably going to hear a lot about it, so I thought I'd... let you know."
He shrugged, helplessly. God, he'd already forgotten how to effectively communicate things to Maya so she could understand. He was losing the hang of being himself, and that was downright creepy.
Not as bad as the ground shaking, but still creepy.
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When Phoenix spoke up, she glanced over at him, and bit her bottom lip. She'd only recently communicated with Lana via journals, and. . . had found out a bit about what had happened. . .
"I. . . I know what happened, Nick. It's terrible. . ." She hung her head helplessly, thinking about that horrible man, Matt.
"I talked to someone -- th-thanks to those journal things, you know? She knew Mia -- I-I think she said her name is Lana. She's. . . she's the girl's sister, right. . .?"
Biting her lower lip again, Maya placed her hands behind her back and looked up at the two with a sad expression.
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The conversation renewed about Matt, and Miles stood up once more after he picked up the bottle, glancing to the side. His pensive expression already in place, he glanced between the two of them.
Where Phoenix was losing the hang of being himself, Miles was reverting back to his more inhuman ways. Defense mechanisms tended to help with that, but even so, there were some things he just could not deal with.
This was one of them.
"Lana Skye was my superior at a time." He replied, voice dull and somewhat terse. "I had known Ema for a few years, since Ms. Skye started working for the prosecutor's office." The bottle was uncapped and brought to his lips, taking a swig.
"The last I saw of either of them was after her case. Ms. Skye was an accompliss to murder and Ema was sent away to study abroad."
It didn't surprise him anymore. Nothing did. Anyone he ever ended up caring about or getting close to or respecting ended up abandoning him. Or, it went beyond that, and they got hurt because he failed to protect them. Talking about it so dryly certainly showed it didn't bother him anymore, right? Or maybe it was the smidgen of alcohol he drank before, or displaced anger from other things.
Whatever.
"We are wasting time. Let's head back to the warehouse." God, talking. He hated small talk sometimes. Ignoring the shaky feeling in his legs, he started for the door. They could come if they wanted to but he was certainly not going to beg them.
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