[SCENE] Ron and Edgeworth in: "Like Cold Links of Steel"
((OOC: The date is April 2nd, around 11 PM, after Ron's visit to Matt Engarde))
MILES: *Bored of bed, Edgeworth is lying on his favorite recliner, dozing and watching Steel Samurai DVDs with a pot of tea. He yawns and turns slightly to the side, intending to sleep on his recliner for the night as he feels far too weary to get up.*
RON: *A short "SCREEEECH" of a car can be heard just outside, disrupting the night's silence. A door slams, footsteps approach, and the doorbell rings a couple of times.*
MILES: *He snorts and represses a cough, sort of, and groans. Maybe if he pretends he's asleep, they'll just go away.*
RON: *After half a minute, the doorbell rings again -- repeatedly this time.*
MILES: God, who is it this time, I don't need any more soup. *He throws the blanket off himself and walks to the door, rubbing his face irritably. He checks through the glass window and is utterly confused to see Ron DeLite. He suddenly recalls the livejournal conversation. He opens the doors and cocks an eyebrow at the smaller man.* You're alive. *He says, feigning surprise.*
RON: *Though he smiles, he looks shaken. He holds a medium-sized vase with a pretty bouquet of six pink roses, salal leaves and baby's breath.* I-I am! *He thrusts the bouquet towards Miles. The knuckles of his right hand are visibly bruised and swollen.* Um. These are for you! ...May I come in?
MILES: *He nods, taking the flowers and observing DeLite's hand with curiosity.* I'm not going to be very good company. *He warns, his voice hoarse. As he walks back into the living room with the flowers he mutters.* People keep giving these things to me...
RON: *steps inside and shuts the door behind him. It's apparent from his red eyes that he's been crying.* Oh. Um. Sorry... I could get you something else if you'd like. Anything!
MILES: *He gives Ron a sideways, suspicious look as he sets the flowers next to his teapot on the side table, but it resettles into a tired one as he lowers himself back onto his recliner. He pauses the DVD.* This is fine.
RON: *forces out a laugh* Great! You see, the only place open at this time night was the grocery store. Um... I usually like to avoid buying roses from there, because they're imported from Ecuador where the working conditions are horrendous and the workers are underpaid and suffer health problems from all the chemicals involved in growing them... *trails off* But if you're fine with that! *smiles!*
MILES: *His forehead wrinkles irritably at the babbling.* That's just wonderful, Mr. DeLite. You're very ecologically and socially responsible. *He clears his throat.* What does that have to do with your reason for visiting me while I'm unwell?
RON: *his smile fades* U-um. *lightly rubbing his knuckles with the palm of his left hand as he stands tensely* I wanted to thank you, sir... for your concern.
MILES: *He sighs.* Have a seat, Mr. DeLite.
RON: Okay. *Walks over to the couch next to Miles's recliner and sits down, still tense, hands folded on his lap. He notices what's on the television screen.* Hey. I like this episode.
MILES: *He glances up at the screen* Yes, me too. *He refocuses on DeLite's face.* Do you understand why what you did was a bad idea?
RON: *bites his lip and looks up at Miles, appearing like a child about to get scolded by his teacher for throwing sand in his classmate's eyes* ...Er. I do now?
MILES: You could have been killed. I can't believe Wright is such an idiot. *He rolls his eyes.* He actually likes you and he still pushed you into such a foolish act.
RON: *tilts his head in confusion and rambles nervously* It was very strange how there weren't guards immediately outside the room. If I remember correctly, it wasn't like that when I visited Mr. Diego. I review the prison's security methods every time I go, and I have to say, they're not very good...
MILES: They've had problems maintaining consistency. *He says flatly.* I'm not in the position to do much about that.
RON: *another forced laugh* Boy, you can say that again!
MILES: *He clutches at the blankets angrily.* You'd best be glad that I have any influence at all, or you wouldn't be here to deliver me Ecuadorian grocery store flowers... *He says through gritted teeth.*
RON: Huh? ...Wait wait wait! No! *leans forwards* I was commenting on the former, not the latter! *serious* Mr. Edgeworth, you're right. I would have been killed if you hadn't called the prison! You saved my life.
MILES: *He calms down, looking curiously at the other man. There's a very faint flicker of a smile, quickly replaced by his stern look.* It seems as if you learned that lesson forcibly. *He says, gesturing to Ron's hand.*
RON: This? *Raising his right hand a little, he suddenly acts as if he's cornered* Wh-what about it...?
MILES: Did he try to break your hand? *DeLite's reaction is awfully suspicious, and his suspicion is reflected on his face.*
RON: N-no! This was because-- *stops, and starts muttering to himself* Wait. Why bother? You won't believe me anyway...
MILES: *He raises an eyebrow.* Not that I find you to be a trustworthy person, Mr. DeLite, but I'm not really confident in your ability to lie when asked a direct question. That said, how did you hurt your hand? *His voice is flint-edged.*
RON: *offended* You think I'm not a capable liar? I hid the fact that I was fired from my wife for a full year!
MILES: Did she ever ask if you had a job? She just assumed you did. Those lies are easier. This I know.
RON: Oh. Um. *looks down* I-I guess so.
MILES: *Sharply.* Are you going to answer my question?
RON: Yes, sir! I am!
Tonight, at around 10 PM, I went to see Mr. Engarde in the prison's visitation room.
I confronted him about his past, and his feelings towards Dessie. Boy, he changed his tune and got mad when I brought those up.
He told me he never wanted to see Dessie again, and said horrible things about her! It made me so angry!
Then the guards came to escort me out. I was so blinded by anger, however, that I walked straight into the edge of the door.
Out of rage, I punched the door as hard as I could! It... really hurt.
And that's all. Nothing happened between us!
MILES: *He listens to Ron's story with narrowed eyes, thinking. He raises his head, looking through hooded eyes at DeLite.* And where was the part where you would have been killed? Sounds like a gentlemanly argument where one person's temper got out of hand.
RON: *his heart skips a beat when he realizes the contradiction in his story* U-uhh... It was the look on his face! I could tell he wanted to do me in right then and there!
MILES: *He raises an eyebrow.* The look on his face? *He pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase this. He never was good at interrogation.* How did he look?
RON: *his voice starts to shake as he looks down* L-like he wanted to tear me apart. I... I can't get it out of my mind.
MILES: *He still looks somewhat suspicious, but he lets it slide.* He certainly is unsettling to look at with those awful scars.
RON: *blinks* Scars?
MILES: *He frowns, lifting a hand to his temple and rubbing at the start of a headache.* Mr. DeLite. The scars over his right eye... he only reveals his true face when he reveals those. He may have frightened you, but he wouldn't have killed you without showing you that.
RON: *with conviction* He DID show me his true face! I didn't see his right eye but he was furious! Especially when he held me against the door, telling me he could kill me!
MILES: *He looks at Ron from behind his arm.* Ah... huh. The door you 'walked into'? *He smirks*
RON: *erks as he shrinks back* ...Yes?
MILES: *Flatly* How did it actually happen?
RON: *quiet* You wouldn't believe me.
MILES: You wouldn't go to such lengths to hide a lie.
RON: *in awe* Wow... You're good!
MILES: *He smirks with pleasure.* It's my job. The truth?
RON: *sighs and re-straightens his posture, looking down at his hands resting on his lap* He... wasn't after Dessie after all. In fact, he never wanted to see her again. He started saying so many venomous things abut her... But he's wrong about each one! *grits his teeth*
MILES: *He nods* I doubt he knows anything about your wife, compared to you.
RON: *suddenly leans forwards, grabbing the armrest with his left hand* He doesn't! I-I'm still not sure what happened between them when they met, but I know Dessie! And then he tried to leave without apologizing for what he said!
MILES: *looks a bit taken aback at the vehemence.* And so...?
RON: So I did what ANYONE would have done in that situation... *his arms mimic this as he explains* ...I GRABBED him and I PINNED him down onto the table!
MILES: *He raises both eyebrows.* 'Anyone would have do-' *He shakes his head.* Naturally! *sarcastically.*
RON: *insistent* When you want to prevent someone from leaving and they won't listen to you, you have to restrain them with force! That's what you're supposed to DOOOOOO!
MILES: *sighs, realizing DeLite won't let it go.* Oh, yes, you were a security guard, weren't you. Go on.
RON: For four years, sir! *continues* I had a good hold on him, too! *meek* But not for long. I don't know why I even tried. I should've seen it coming. I wasn't thinking straight...
MILES: *He closes his eyes,* If you'd been thinking straight, you'd never have gone. *He murmurs.* Then what.
RON: *his hand begins to tremble* Th-th-that's when he held me against the door. I... I couldn't move. I was so scared. *his voice begins to break and his eyes blink rapidly*
MILES: *He looks almost disgusted that DeLite seems to be about to cry, but he tamps it down. Measuredly,* And yet here you are. How did you manage that?
RON: *managing to hold back tears, he rubs his left arm* U-um. He punched me in the arm. Then he calmed down. ...He was smiling at me like nothing had happened and he still wouldn't apologize...
MILES: *Miles nods, unsurprised.* But how did you hurt your hand?
RON: He didn't. *pause* No, wait. He did. But um, indirectly.
MILES: *raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms* ...Indirectly?
RON: Yes. I-- How can I put this-- um. *hesitates; the next words are spoken slowly and with caution* Do you remember... Nickel Samurai... episode 11..?
MILES: *He thinks for a moment.* Yes, of course. That's one of the few episodes of the series I liked.
RON: *almost excitedly* YES! And remember when Nickel was physically and emotionally weak from the poison, and NobuNaga had him cornered against the wall, sneering at him and taking his time delivering the final blow because he thought Nickel didn't have the will to go on anymore?
MILES: Of course, *nods* his taunting speech was quite tightly paced, I thought.
RON: The episode had great writing! It should have won that award! ...Anyway, remember what Nickel did in that moment?
MILES: Well, he... thinks back to all the people who depend on him, the ones who've been there for him, and he... *He looks surprised.* You mean, you...?
RON: *triumphant* I PUNCHED him. Right in the FACE!
MILES: *He stares at DeLite for a long moment. He opens his mouth to make a snarky retort, but as he looks back over the conversation... Well... It's an awfully silly admission to make. Almost too ridiculous to be believed, and for that very reason, Edgeworth can't help but believe it. He chuckles and the chuckle expands into a cough, and the cough gets a bit out of control for a moment and he reaches for his cup of tea to drown it.*
RON: Wh-what? What is it?! Don't laugh at me like thaaaaaaat!!
MILES: *He finishes off the cold tea and gives DeLite an amused look.* You were right to hide it, Mr. DeLite. No one else will ever believe you did that.
RON: *looks crestfallen* But... I did it! I punched Matt Engarde! I PUNCHED MATT ENGARDE AND I DIDN'T DIE!!
MILES: *He raises an eyebrow.* I believe you!
RON: *clasps his hands together and brings it up to his chin* *eyes sparkling* I didn't die thanks to YOU!
MILES: *He chuckles.* Was that when my phone call came?
RON: *brings his hands down* Oh, I saw that the guards were already on their way before I did it. I never would have done it otherwise!
MILES: Then it seems like I had spectacular timing. *smirking* Congratulations.
RON: *suddenly looks upset again* Thank you... but now I have a big problem.
MILES: Oh?
RON: *leans towards Miles, clutching the arm rest again* He... He's going to KILL me, isn't he?! I-I'm dead meat! He's not going to let me get away with it. *horrified* He's hired an assassin before... I don't want to die, Mr. Edgeworth! I don't want to dieeeee!
MILES: *he gives a triumphant smile* You won't have a problem with that, this I promise you. For one thing, phone calls are strictly monitored by an outside security firm employed by the government. For another thing... Well... I doubt that any assassins would take a hit from Mr. Engarde. Not if they didn't want to irk one of their own.
RON: *blinking back tears as his lower lip quibbles* Really...?
MILES: Definitely. Engarde enraged one of the more prestigious hired killers in the state, if not the nation. That's why he's in prison now. If he were out... *He smiles toothily.* Well, let's just say a wager on his life continuing would be a foolishly placed bet.
RON: *relaxes and wipes his eyes with his shirt sleeve* I-I'm so relieved to hear that from you, sir...
MILES: *He nods.* Yes, so don't worry. But... Try not to be so reckless, Mr. DeLite. Your wife is far too young to be a widow.
RON: I know! I'm sooooooorryyy! *calming down* Wait. Why do you believe me? I-I thought you didn't trust me!
MILES: *He shrugs his shoulders very slightly.* Of course I don't trust you, why would I? But your story is far too stupid not to be true, and it was the only story you had that made sense.
RON: *pause* Gee... thank you, Mr. Edgeworth. *It's not clear if this is sarcastic or genuine.*
MILES: *unperturbed* Besides that, what would you gain from me by lying about hitting Engarde?
RON: *frowns* Some people didn't believe I was Mask*DeMasque. Mr. Wright and... even Dessie thought I was so caught up in fanaticism that I deluded myself into thinking I'm him. It's not fair. I can be bold and daring, too... *trails off*
MILES: *he crosses his arms, looking put-upon.* Mr. DeLite, the key to confidence is faking confidence. You should know this, as a phantom thief. Any confidence you had as Mask*DeMasque seems to have been faked, considering the face you put forth in front of others. What's stopping you from putting on that mask when you're not wearing the costume?
RON: Because... *tilts his head* Because when I put that costume, no one knew who I was. It's like I had a chance to remake myself. I wasn't afraid of people judging my actions, because they didn't know who was under that mask. I was free to act however I wanted without fear of scrutiny.
MILES: Whose scrutiny do you fear?
RON: *blinks* Whose? U-um... well... everyone's? *looks glum* I hardly look like a hero or a villain...
MILES: *He groans, irritated.* Heroes and villains are defined by their actions, not their appearances, Mr. DeLite. Unless you missed that speech in episode five of season two of the Steel Samurai.
RON: I remember that, but not everyone watches Steel Samurai. I...I think I'd be ridiculed if I did whatever I wished as myself. No one would believe I punched Matt Engarde... but they would believe Mask*DeMasque did.
MILES: If you wanted to be believed that badly, you would make it happen, just as you did with your little alter-ego. *He cocks an eyebrow.* Maybe you feel safer being a face in the crowd.
RON: That's NOT true! ...Er, no. Maybe there is some truth to that. I feel safe, but... I-I don't want to be ignored! I don't want to be just another face in the crowd! *pause* Wait. That's not entirely right, either. Um. *thinks*
MILES: *He waves his hand.* It doesn't matter. I'm quite tired and not fit for philosophical discussion in the state I'm in. I shouldn't have brought it up except that I think you'd probably be a less frustrating person to have a conversation with if you had a bit of self-confidence.
RON: *wilts* Sorry for being frustrating. I can take you off the advice filter on my journal if you'd like...
MILES: *He looks abruptly taken aback* Certainly not! I shudder to think of the awful advice that Wright and Armando already gave you in concert. The two of them need someone like me to keep them from getting carried away with their tendency to meddle in other people and *he snorts* one another's affairs.
RON: *smiles weakly* I'll keep you on, then. After all... tonight, I learned that you look out for me.
MILES: *He starts a bit at the phrasing, but... he did, didn't he? He sniffs,* Call it a favor to the justice system. We wouldn't want the scandal of an inmate killing a civilian guest, after all.
RON: *wilts again with disappointment* O-oh.
MILES: *He scoffs, but it's half-hearted.* But I perhaps wouldn't have been as intent if it were for a complete stranger. You have, for whatever reason, taken me into your confidence, Mr. DeLite. That's something I can't ignore.
RON: *looks at Miles with surprised, doe-y eyes like that of a schoolgirl being told by her crush that he likes her hair* ...Really?
MILES: *Reluctantly, distastefully.* Yes. Whether I want to or not. Now, will you let me get back to the pressing business of being ill?
RON: *smiles again, and looks the most relaxed and least upset he's looked since he arrived* Of course, Mr. Edgeworth. You need to get that taken care of.
MILES: *huffs* Yes, yes, so I'm told. By absolutely everyone I know. Take care that you don't catch it from me.
RON: No need to worry about ME! I take such good care of my health, I haven't been sick in three years! Except that time I had an allergic reaction to canned pineapples...
MILES: *He sighs, moves his blanket aside and stands, hinting that it's time for Mr. DeLite to leave.*
RON: *He's been shooed out of a room enough times to know these hints. He stands up right after Miles does.* By the way, um. Did you ever get that variant Evil Magistrate figure?
MILES: Yes, I managed to find it online. *looks very distantly annoyed.*
RON: Wow, I'm guessing you had to use an auction site? How much was it?
MILES: Three times list price. *He says, gritting his teeth.*
RON: *shocked* Th-th-three times?!
MILES: *flippantly* I've paid more.
RON: Still, that's -- y-you could've just taken that figure when I let you have it. But you knew it was my favourite character and...*visibly touched*
MILES: *hardly willing to admit his true reasons, he shrugs.* We fans must stick together, I guess.
RON: *quoting* "...Like cold links of steel, stuck together to form a chain that keeps justice from drifting away!"
MILES: *He can't keep himself from smirking.* Yes, I recall. "The chains that bond one man to another can't be broken by anything but hate."
RON: *moves towards the door* I'm... glad I came here. I'll be able to sleep better tonight.
MILES: *A sour face as he considers what he should be doing right now.* It must be a relief. Glad to have helped. *There's no irony in his voice.*
RON: *friendly* If there's anything I can do for you, please ask! And you can talk to me about Steel Samurai any time. *touches his knuckles again without thinking* I...I don't think I'll be re-watching Nickel Samurai anytime soon.
MILES: *Looks a tad pleased at being owed a favor.* If I think of something. *nodding* And yes, I quite understand. I'm sure that's partly why I'm not such a fan of the Nickel Samurai.
RON: *opens the door and looks back at Miles* You remind me of someone I knew once.
MILES: *raises an eyebrow* Oh?
RON: Well, not exactly. When I say you remind me of someone, what I really meant was that your brutal honesty and some of the things you've said to me reminds me of her. *recalls fondly* She was a lively old woman I worked with sometimes back in my K.B. Security days. She sure was a lot more talkative than you, though...
MILES: *Something about that description niggles at him, and then it comes to him and his mouth settles into a line. Flatly,* Wonderful.
RON: *steps outside* I'm going to go home now and snuggle up to my Dessie. *smiles!* Good night, Mr. Edgeworth!
MILES: *a flat gaze, a faint tch.* Good night, Mr. DeLite. *Throws the door closed.*
RON: *Flinches when the door slams shut. He stands there confused for a few seconds, then returns to his Honda Civic hatchback, feeling far more at ease than when he first arrived.*
MILES: *walks back to his living room, eyeing the flowers on the table.* Hmph. *He stops the DVD player and takes the pot of tea into his bedroom, grumbling under his breath something about 'more trouble than he's worth'*
--------
Ron: ((Ron x Miles OTP))
Miles: [[Put on this cocktail dress and this hat with rice balls on it, Mr. DeLite.]]
Miles: [[...No. I still can't do it.]]
Ron: ((what if I..... let down my hair? *does so*))
Miles: [[*tilts head* Yeah, that's just about got it.]]
Ron: ((what's sad is he WOULD look cute))
Miles: [[Like a little girl *_* Oh.. In that case probably more to Wright's taste >_>]]
((Bonus OOC banter-inspired pic))
MILES: *Bored of bed, Edgeworth is lying on his favorite recliner, dozing and watching Steel Samurai DVDs with a pot of tea. He yawns and turns slightly to the side, intending to sleep on his recliner for the night as he feels far too weary to get up.*
RON: *A short "SCREEEECH" of a car can be heard just outside, disrupting the night's silence. A door slams, footsteps approach, and the doorbell rings a couple of times.*
MILES: *He snorts and represses a cough, sort of, and groans. Maybe if he pretends he's asleep, they'll just go away.*
RON: *After half a minute, the doorbell rings again -- repeatedly this time.*
MILES: God, who is it this time, I don't need any more soup. *He throws the blanket off himself and walks to the door, rubbing his face irritably. He checks through the glass window and is utterly confused to see Ron DeLite. He suddenly recalls the livejournal conversation. He opens the doors and cocks an eyebrow at the smaller man.* You're alive. *He says, feigning surprise.*
RON: *Though he smiles, he looks shaken. He holds a medium-sized vase with a pretty bouquet of six pink roses, salal leaves and baby's breath.* I-I am! *He thrusts the bouquet towards Miles. The knuckles of his right hand are visibly bruised and swollen.* Um. These are for you! ...May I come in?
MILES: *He nods, taking the flowers and observing DeLite's hand with curiosity.* I'm not going to be very good company. *He warns, his voice hoarse. As he walks back into the living room with the flowers he mutters.* People keep giving these things to me...
RON: *steps inside and shuts the door behind him. It's apparent from his red eyes that he's been crying.* Oh. Um. Sorry... I could get you something else if you'd like. Anything!
MILES: *He gives Ron a sideways, suspicious look as he sets the flowers next to his teapot on the side table, but it resettles into a tired one as he lowers himself back onto his recliner. He pauses the DVD.* This is fine.
RON: *forces out a laugh* Great! You see, the only place open at this time night was the grocery store. Um... I usually like to avoid buying roses from there, because they're imported from Ecuador where the working conditions are horrendous and the workers are underpaid and suffer health problems from all the chemicals involved in growing them... *trails off* But if you're fine with that! *smiles!*
MILES: *His forehead wrinkles irritably at the babbling.* That's just wonderful, Mr. DeLite. You're very ecologically and socially responsible. *He clears his throat.* What does that have to do with your reason for visiting me while I'm unwell?
RON: *his smile fades* U-um. *lightly rubbing his knuckles with the palm of his left hand as he stands tensely* I wanted to thank you, sir... for your concern.
MILES: *He sighs.* Have a seat, Mr. DeLite.
RON: Okay. *Walks over to the couch next to Miles's recliner and sits down, still tense, hands folded on his lap. He notices what's on the television screen.* Hey. I like this episode.
MILES: *He glances up at the screen* Yes, me too. *He refocuses on DeLite's face.* Do you understand why what you did was a bad idea?
RON: *bites his lip and looks up at Miles, appearing like a child about to get scolded by his teacher for throwing sand in his classmate's eyes* ...Er. I do now?
MILES: You could have been killed. I can't believe Wright is such an idiot. *He rolls his eyes.* He actually likes you and he still pushed you into such a foolish act.
RON: *tilts his head in confusion and rambles nervously* It was very strange how there weren't guards immediately outside the room. If I remember correctly, it wasn't like that when I visited Mr. Diego. I review the prison's security methods every time I go, and I have to say, they're not very good...
MILES: They've had problems maintaining consistency. *He says flatly.* I'm not in the position to do much about that.
RON: *another forced laugh* Boy, you can say that again!
MILES: *He clutches at the blankets angrily.* You'd best be glad that I have any influence at all, or you wouldn't be here to deliver me Ecuadorian grocery store flowers... *He says through gritted teeth.*
RON: Huh? ...Wait wait wait! No! *leans forwards* I was commenting on the former, not the latter! *serious* Mr. Edgeworth, you're right. I would have been killed if you hadn't called the prison! You saved my life.
MILES: *He calms down, looking curiously at the other man. There's a very faint flicker of a smile, quickly replaced by his stern look.* It seems as if you learned that lesson forcibly. *He says, gesturing to Ron's hand.*
RON: This? *Raising his right hand a little, he suddenly acts as if he's cornered* Wh-what about it...?
MILES: Did he try to break your hand? *DeLite's reaction is awfully suspicious, and his suspicion is reflected on his face.*
RON: N-no! This was because-- *stops, and starts muttering to himself* Wait. Why bother? You won't believe me anyway...
MILES: *He raises an eyebrow.* Not that I find you to be a trustworthy person, Mr. DeLite, but I'm not really confident in your ability to lie when asked a direct question. That said, how did you hurt your hand? *His voice is flint-edged.*
RON: *offended* You think I'm not a capable liar? I hid the fact that I was fired from my wife for a full year!
MILES: Did she ever ask if you had a job? She just assumed you did. Those lies are easier. This I know.
RON: Oh. Um. *looks down* I-I guess so.
MILES: *Sharply.* Are you going to answer my question?
RON: Yes, sir! I am!
Tonight, at around 10 PM, I went to see Mr. Engarde in the prison's visitation room.
I confronted him about his past, and his feelings towards Dessie. Boy, he changed his tune and got mad when I brought those up.
He told me he never wanted to see Dessie again, and said horrible things about her! It made me so angry!
Then the guards came to escort me out. I was so blinded by anger, however, that I walked straight into the edge of the door.
Out of rage, I punched the door as hard as I could! It... really hurt.
And that's all. Nothing happened between us!
MILES: *He listens to Ron's story with narrowed eyes, thinking. He raises his head, looking through hooded eyes at DeLite.* And where was the part where you would have been killed? Sounds like a gentlemanly argument where one person's temper got out of hand.
RON: *his heart skips a beat when he realizes the contradiction in his story* U-uhh... It was the look on his face! I could tell he wanted to do me in right then and there!
MILES: *He raises an eyebrow.* The look on his face? *He pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase this. He never was good at interrogation.* How did he look?
RON: *his voice starts to shake as he looks down* L-like he wanted to tear me apart. I... I can't get it out of my mind.
MILES: *He still looks somewhat suspicious, but he lets it slide.* He certainly is unsettling to look at with those awful scars.
RON: *blinks* Scars?
MILES: *He frowns, lifting a hand to his temple and rubbing at the start of a headache.* Mr. DeLite. The scars over his right eye... he only reveals his true face when he reveals those. He may have frightened you, but he wouldn't have killed you without showing you that.
RON: *with conviction* He DID show me his true face! I didn't see his right eye but he was furious! Especially when he held me against the door, telling me he could kill me!
MILES: *He looks at Ron from behind his arm.* Ah... huh. The door you 'walked into'? *He smirks*
RON: *erks as he shrinks back* ...Yes?
MILES: *Flatly* How did it actually happen?
RON: *quiet* You wouldn't believe me.
MILES: You wouldn't go to such lengths to hide a lie.
RON: *in awe* Wow... You're good!
MILES: *He smirks with pleasure.* It's my job. The truth?
RON: *sighs and re-straightens his posture, looking down at his hands resting on his lap* He... wasn't after Dessie after all. In fact, he never wanted to see her again. He started saying so many venomous things abut her... But he's wrong about each one! *grits his teeth*
MILES: *He nods* I doubt he knows anything about your wife, compared to you.
RON: *suddenly leans forwards, grabbing the armrest with his left hand* He doesn't! I-I'm still not sure what happened between them when they met, but I know Dessie! And then he tried to leave without apologizing for what he said!
MILES: *looks a bit taken aback at the vehemence.* And so...?
RON: So I did what ANYONE would have done in that situation... *his arms mimic this as he explains* ...I GRABBED him and I PINNED him down onto the table!
MILES: *He raises both eyebrows.* 'Anyone would have do-' *He shakes his head.* Naturally! *sarcastically.*
RON: *insistent* When you want to prevent someone from leaving and they won't listen to you, you have to restrain them with force! That's what you're supposed to DOOOOOO!
MILES: *sighs, realizing DeLite won't let it go.* Oh, yes, you were a security guard, weren't you. Go on.
RON: For four years, sir! *continues* I had a good hold on him, too! *meek* But not for long. I don't know why I even tried. I should've seen it coming. I wasn't thinking straight...
MILES: *He closes his eyes,* If you'd been thinking straight, you'd never have gone. *He murmurs.* Then what.
RON: *his hand begins to tremble* Th-th-that's when he held me against the door. I... I couldn't move. I was so scared. *his voice begins to break and his eyes blink rapidly*
MILES: *He looks almost disgusted that DeLite seems to be about to cry, but he tamps it down. Measuredly,* And yet here you are. How did you manage that?
RON: *managing to hold back tears, he rubs his left arm* U-um. He punched me in the arm. Then he calmed down. ...He was smiling at me like nothing had happened and he still wouldn't apologize...
MILES: *Miles nods, unsurprised.* But how did you hurt your hand?
RON: He didn't. *pause* No, wait. He did. But um, indirectly.
MILES: *raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms* ...Indirectly?
RON: Yes. I-- How can I put this-- um. *hesitates; the next words are spoken slowly and with caution* Do you remember... Nickel Samurai... episode 11..?
MILES: *He thinks for a moment.* Yes, of course. That's one of the few episodes of the series I liked.
RON: *almost excitedly* YES! And remember when Nickel was physically and emotionally weak from the poison, and NobuNaga had him cornered against the wall, sneering at him and taking his time delivering the final blow because he thought Nickel didn't have the will to go on anymore?
MILES: Of course, *nods* his taunting speech was quite tightly paced, I thought.
RON: The episode had great writing! It should have won that award! ...Anyway, remember what Nickel did in that moment?
MILES: Well, he... thinks back to all the people who depend on him, the ones who've been there for him, and he... *He looks surprised.* You mean, you...?
RON: *triumphant* I PUNCHED him. Right in the FACE!
MILES: *He stares at DeLite for a long moment. He opens his mouth to make a snarky retort, but as he looks back over the conversation... Well... It's an awfully silly admission to make. Almost too ridiculous to be believed, and for that very reason, Edgeworth can't help but believe it. He chuckles and the chuckle expands into a cough, and the cough gets a bit out of control for a moment and he reaches for his cup of tea to drown it.*
RON: Wh-what? What is it?! Don't laugh at me like thaaaaaaat!!
MILES: *He finishes off the cold tea and gives DeLite an amused look.* You were right to hide it, Mr. DeLite. No one else will ever believe you did that.
RON: *looks crestfallen* But... I did it! I punched Matt Engarde! I PUNCHED MATT ENGARDE AND I DIDN'T DIE!!
MILES: *He raises an eyebrow.* I believe you!
RON: *clasps his hands together and brings it up to his chin* *eyes sparkling* I didn't die thanks to YOU!
MILES: *He chuckles.* Was that when my phone call came?
RON: *brings his hands down* Oh, I saw that the guards were already on their way before I did it. I never would have done it otherwise!
MILES: Then it seems like I had spectacular timing. *smirking* Congratulations.
RON: *suddenly looks upset again* Thank you... but now I have a big problem.
MILES: Oh?
RON: *leans towards Miles, clutching the arm rest again* He... He's going to KILL me, isn't he?! I-I'm dead meat! He's not going to let me get away with it. *horrified* He's hired an assassin before... I don't want to die, Mr. Edgeworth! I don't want to dieeeee!
MILES: *he gives a triumphant smile* You won't have a problem with that, this I promise you. For one thing, phone calls are strictly monitored by an outside security firm employed by the government. For another thing... Well... I doubt that any assassins would take a hit from Mr. Engarde. Not if they didn't want to irk one of their own.
RON: *blinking back tears as his lower lip quibbles* Really...?
MILES: Definitely. Engarde enraged one of the more prestigious hired killers in the state, if not the nation. That's why he's in prison now. If he were out... *He smiles toothily.* Well, let's just say a wager on his life continuing would be a foolishly placed bet.
RON: *relaxes and wipes his eyes with his shirt sleeve* I-I'm so relieved to hear that from you, sir...
MILES: *He nods.* Yes, so don't worry. But... Try not to be so reckless, Mr. DeLite. Your wife is far too young to be a widow.
RON: I know! I'm sooooooorryyy! *calming down* Wait. Why do you believe me? I-I thought you didn't trust me!
MILES: *He shrugs his shoulders very slightly.* Of course I don't trust you, why would I? But your story is far too stupid not to be true, and it was the only story you had that made sense.
RON: *pause* Gee... thank you, Mr. Edgeworth. *It's not clear if this is sarcastic or genuine.*
MILES: *unperturbed* Besides that, what would you gain from me by lying about hitting Engarde?
RON: *frowns* Some people didn't believe I was Mask*DeMasque. Mr. Wright and... even Dessie thought I was so caught up in fanaticism that I deluded myself into thinking I'm him. It's not fair. I can be bold and daring, too... *trails off*
MILES: *he crosses his arms, looking put-upon.* Mr. DeLite, the key to confidence is faking confidence. You should know this, as a phantom thief. Any confidence you had as Mask*DeMasque seems to have been faked, considering the face you put forth in front of others. What's stopping you from putting on that mask when you're not wearing the costume?
RON: Because... *tilts his head* Because when I put that costume, no one knew who I was. It's like I had a chance to remake myself. I wasn't afraid of people judging my actions, because they didn't know who was under that mask. I was free to act however I wanted without fear of scrutiny.
MILES: Whose scrutiny do you fear?
RON: *blinks* Whose? U-um... well... everyone's? *looks glum* I hardly look like a hero or a villain...
MILES: *He groans, irritated.* Heroes and villains are defined by their actions, not their appearances, Mr. DeLite. Unless you missed that speech in episode five of season two of the Steel Samurai.
RON: I remember that, but not everyone watches Steel Samurai. I...I think I'd be ridiculed if I did whatever I wished as myself. No one would believe I punched Matt Engarde... but they would believe Mask*DeMasque did.
MILES: If you wanted to be believed that badly, you would make it happen, just as you did with your little alter-ego. *He cocks an eyebrow.* Maybe you feel safer being a face in the crowd.
RON: That's NOT true! ...Er, no. Maybe there is some truth to that. I feel safe, but... I-I don't want to be ignored! I don't want to be just another face in the crowd! *pause* Wait. That's not entirely right, either. Um. *thinks*
MILES: *He waves his hand.* It doesn't matter. I'm quite tired and not fit for philosophical discussion in the state I'm in. I shouldn't have brought it up except that I think you'd probably be a less frustrating person to have a conversation with if you had a bit of self-confidence.
RON: *wilts* Sorry for being frustrating. I can take you off the advice filter on my journal if you'd like...
MILES: *He looks abruptly taken aback* Certainly not! I shudder to think of the awful advice that Wright and Armando already gave you in concert. The two of them need someone like me to keep them from getting carried away with their tendency to meddle in other people and *he snorts* one another's affairs.
RON: *smiles weakly* I'll keep you on, then. After all... tonight, I learned that you look out for me.
MILES: *He starts a bit at the phrasing, but... he did, didn't he? He sniffs,* Call it a favor to the justice system. We wouldn't want the scandal of an inmate killing a civilian guest, after all.
RON: *wilts again with disappointment* O-oh.
MILES: *He scoffs, but it's half-hearted.* But I perhaps wouldn't have been as intent if it were for a complete stranger. You have, for whatever reason, taken me into your confidence, Mr. DeLite. That's something I can't ignore.
RON: *looks at Miles with surprised, doe-y eyes like that of a schoolgirl being told by her crush that he likes her hair* ...Really?
MILES: *Reluctantly, distastefully.* Yes. Whether I want to or not. Now, will you let me get back to the pressing business of being ill?
RON: *smiles again, and looks the most relaxed and least upset he's looked since he arrived* Of course, Mr. Edgeworth. You need to get that taken care of.
MILES: *huffs* Yes, yes, so I'm told. By absolutely everyone I know. Take care that you don't catch it from me.
RON: No need to worry about ME! I take such good care of my health, I haven't been sick in three years! Except that time I had an allergic reaction to canned pineapples...
MILES: *He sighs, moves his blanket aside and stands, hinting that it's time for Mr. DeLite to leave.*
RON: *He's been shooed out of a room enough times to know these hints. He stands up right after Miles does.* By the way, um. Did you ever get that variant Evil Magistrate figure?
MILES: Yes, I managed to find it online. *looks very distantly annoyed.*
RON: Wow, I'm guessing you had to use an auction site? How much was it?
MILES: Three times list price. *He says, gritting his teeth.*
RON: *shocked* Th-th-three times?!
MILES: *flippantly* I've paid more.
RON: Still, that's -- y-you could've just taken that figure when I let you have it. But you knew it was my favourite character and...*visibly touched*
MILES: *hardly willing to admit his true reasons, he shrugs.* We fans must stick together, I guess.
RON: *quoting* "...Like cold links of steel, stuck together to form a chain that keeps justice from drifting away!"
MILES: *He can't keep himself from smirking.* Yes, I recall. "The chains that bond one man to another can't be broken by anything but hate."
RON: *moves towards the door* I'm... glad I came here. I'll be able to sleep better tonight.
MILES: *A sour face as he considers what he should be doing right now.* It must be a relief. Glad to have helped. *There's no irony in his voice.*
RON: *friendly* If there's anything I can do for you, please ask! And you can talk to me about Steel Samurai any time. *touches his knuckles again without thinking* I...I don't think I'll be re-watching Nickel Samurai anytime soon.
MILES: *Looks a tad pleased at being owed a favor.* If I think of something. *nodding* And yes, I quite understand. I'm sure that's partly why I'm not such a fan of the Nickel Samurai.
RON: *opens the door and looks back at Miles* You remind me of someone I knew once.
MILES: *raises an eyebrow* Oh?
RON: Well, not exactly. When I say you remind me of someone, what I really meant was that your brutal honesty and some of the things you've said to me reminds me of her. *recalls fondly* She was a lively old woman I worked with sometimes back in my K.B. Security days. She sure was a lot more talkative than you, though...
MILES: *Something about that description niggles at him, and then it comes to him and his mouth settles into a line. Flatly,* Wonderful.
RON: *steps outside* I'm going to go home now and snuggle up to my Dessie. *smiles!* Good night, Mr. Edgeworth!
MILES: *a flat gaze, a faint tch.* Good night, Mr. DeLite. *Throws the door closed.*
RON: *Flinches when the door slams shut. He stands there confused for a few seconds, then returns to his Honda Civic hatchback, feeling far more at ease than when he first arrived.*
MILES: *walks back to his living room, eyeing the flowers on the table.* Hmph. *He stops the DVD player and takes the pot of tea into his bedroom, grumbling under his breath something about 'more trouble than he's worth'*
--------
Ron: ((Ron x Miles OTP))
Miles: [[Put on this cocktail dress and this hat with rice balls on it, Mr. DeLite.]]
Miles: [[...No. I still can't do it.]]
Ron: ((what if I..... let down my hair? *does so*))
Miles: [[*tilts head* Yeah, that's just about got it.]]
Ron: ((what's sad is he WOULD look cute))
Miles: [[Like a little girl *_* Oh.. In that case probably more to Wright's taste >_>]]
((Bonus OOC banter-inspired pic))
