I leave you people alone for five seconds... [OPEN]
Characters: Miles Edgeworth and the crew of the Victoria II
Content: The (former) first mate has been confined to his quarters until further notice. Things can't go too wrong, can they?
Setting: Edgeworth's quarters
Time: During the Vicky Disaster
Warnings: Murphy's Law on crack
OOC Note: This log will span the entirety of the disaster. It will begin before Vole starts ripping off doors and end after the effects from Angel's ~*~special delivery~*~ wear off. If you'd like to play out any of the events, go ahead. :D Or you can just comfort or torture Edgeworth in other ways.
Edgeworth glared at his desk and moved the paperweight an inch to the right. Now it was - no, that wasn't right either. He frowned and moved it up two inches, and almost smiled at his handiwork ...until he saw that the inkwell was completely off center.
He growled to himself and slouched in his chair. The burst of irritation faded as he stared at the ceiling, but it didn't leave him completely. And how could he relax, after being subject to such humiliation? Just a few days ago, he was a proud officer on the finest ship in the skies. Now he was demoted, dejected, and exiled to his quarters like an unruly child.
And it was all that damn gunman's fault! Thanks to his inane obsession, not only was he made into a complete and utter fool, he looked like an accessory to the attempted murder of his own men.
He wasn't entirely sure which part bothered him more.
Edgeworth sighed and shifted himself forward so his elbows balanced on his desk. Right now, he needed a good, hot cup of tea. Or something stronger.
Content: The (former) first mate has been confined to his quarters until further notice. Things can't go too wrong, can they?
Setting: Edgeworth's quarters
Time: During the Vicky Disaster
Warnings: Murphy's Law on crack
OOC Note: This log will span the entirety of the disaster. It will begin before Vole starts ripping off doors and end after the effects from Angel's ~*~special delivery~*~ wear off. If you'd like to play out any of the events, go ahead. :D Or you can just comfort or torture Edgeworth in other ways.
Edgeworth glared at his desk and moved the paperweight an inch to the right. Now it was - no, that wasn't right either. He frowned and moved it up two inches, and almost smiled at his handiwork ...until he saw that the inkwell was completely off center.
He growled to himself and slouched in his chair. The burst of irritation faded as he stared at the ceiling, but it didn't leave him completely. And how could he relax, after being subject to such humiliation? Just a few days ago, he was a proud officer on the finest ship in the skies. Now he was demoted, dejected, and exiled to his quarters like an unruly child.
And it was all that damn gunman's fault! Thanks to his inane obsession, not only was he made into a complete and utter fool, he looked like an accessory to the attempted murder of his own men.
He wasn't entirely sure which part bothered him more.
Edgeworth sighed and shifted himself forward so his elbows balanced on his desk. Right now, he needed a good, hot cup of tea. Or something stronger.