//well i'm not made of steel

[croibhristeoir]

WHO: croibhristeoir and truthsnomiracle
WHAT: Discussing combat training. Also probably angst.
WHEN: December 28th, midday
WHERE: Diarmuid's hotel room, possibly elsewhere.
RATING: PG-13

Comments

[truthsnomiracle]

[It initially struck Edgeworth as strange that he needed to reveal so little about his past to cause a warrior's heart to soften. As he mulled it over, however, he realized that it was something of a relief that it was so easy that he could do such a thing unintentionally. Maybe that really was what ultimately divided a warrior from a murderer, much as the Steel Samurai franchise implied as one of its primary themes.

Edgeworth was far less surprised to find that they were headed for the hotel. Once they arrived, he posed the obvious question:]

Is your room on the first floor, or need we head for the stairs?

[The lack of any mention of the elevator was, of course, no accident.]

[croibhristeoir]

[Like many knights of his time, Diarmuid was a caring and kindhearted individual. Unlike most, however, he was so almost to a fault. It could perhaps be argued that his kindness and patience had contributed in at least a small part to his downfall in life.]

It's on the sixth floor.

[He didn't seem to notice the aversion to the elevator; Diarmuid tended to forget about it himself.]

[truthsnomiracle]

Very well, then.

[With neither another word nor any outward sign that tears had fallen from his eyes less than an hour ago, Edgeworth began the trek -- one half the length of the one he was used to traversing every day back home.]

[croibhristeoir]

[Ah, awkward silences. At a loss for what to say or if he should even try, Diarmuid elected to remain silent.]

[truthsnomiracle]

[Once the two of them reached the top of the stairs, Edgeworth stepped aside in order to allow the knight to pass him in the hall.]

As it is your room, you should probably lead the way.

[croibhristeoir]

Ah--right, of course. That would make sense.

[truthsnomiracle]

Is something the matter, Diarmuid? Your demeanor has been off for some time now.

[croibhristeoir]

It's nothing of much consequence, I apologize.

[At least, nothing that could be helped. But ever since Edgeworth mentioned the death of his father, in the back of his mind Diarmuid had begun to wonder what became of his own family after his death. Grainne remarried Fionn of all people, surely their children hadn't simply been alright with that.]

[He couldn't imagine having gone through life without his father. How had they handled it? Silently, he made a note to ask Grainne when next he saw her.]

I'm just a bit distracted.

[truthsnomiracle]

[While Edgeworth knew that Diarmuid had a wife -- he had spoken with her over the phone, in fact -- the subject of children had never come up. Thus, the prosecutor had no idea that there was any such parallel being drawn, just that the knight didn't seem to want to discuss whatever was on his mind.]

I'll leave you to your thoughts, then... provided, of course, that you aren't so distracted that you can't so much as invite me in as we discussed.

[croibhristeoir]

No, no, it's fine. I said we would do this, and I shall not go back on my word.

[With a slight sigh, Diarmuid reached the door of his hotel room and opened it, stepping back slightly to let Edgeworth in.]

[truthsnomiracle]

[Edgeworth bows, then enters the apartment sufficiently to allow his friend passage as well, taking in the sights as he does so.]

[croibhristeoir]

[It was a very simple room with remarkably few personal items; on the table was a small collection of books on varying subjects. Leaning against a wall was a pair of lances: one roughly six feet long and the other somewhere around four. On the back of a nearby chair was a short sword in its sheath.]

[Aside from the weaponry, one might have considered it a perfectly normal room...although quiet and perhaps a little empty.]

Right, so you came here to determine what weapon to specialize in, correct?

[truthsnomiracle]

[Under the circumstances, empty was preferable. It wouldn't do to break something of Diarmuid's by accident, after all.]

To begin the process of determination, yes. I imagine that it would be necessary to handle more than a mere three weapons to finalize any decision.

[As he speaks, the prosecutor walks over to pick up the sheathed sword, though he glances at the lances frequently.]

[croibhristeoir]

Naturally. Choosing one's specialty isn't quite a simple thing.

[It was a relatively light one-handed blade, of substandard quality but kept in excellent condition and cared for remarkably well despite that.]

[truthsnomiracle]

[Edgeworth looks at the hilt to see if the weapon is secured by a peace-knot; if so, his first practice swings could happen with the sheath firmly in place. It would alter the weight and aerodynamics, but would minimize the damage if he overswung too.]

Indeed not. I am, however, certain that I would prefer a melee weapon, despite the strength that firearms have to offer.

[There was something not just grim, but uneasy coloring the prosecutor's usual subdued out-of-court tone.]

[croibhristeoir]

[There was, in fact--the blade was carefully secured in its place.]

I'm afraid I know nothing of modern firearms; frankly, attacking from a distance with more than a bow and arrow seems faintly underhanded to me. Personally, I would much rather have a blade in fair combat.

...Edgeworth, if I might say so you don't sound very well. Are you alright?