Who: Phoenix (yes, again, I am so sorry) and Edgeworth
When: 17 October 2009. Evening 7pm-ish.
Where: Notes, ie. the jazz club that isn't owned by a PC.
Summary: Edgeworth finally gets Phoenix in a position where he'll talk about what he's been doing the last seven years and why he isn't practicing law and this summary is a lot dirtier than I meant
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No need to take notes, after all, with a memory like his.
Upon entering, he immediately began to glance around for Phoenix, having no desire for alcohol himself.
If the spiky-haired idiot wasn't there like he'd said he'd be, Edgeworth was going to be very... displeased.
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He saw Miles immediately and lifted a hand to wave him over. He had dressed up for the night, a dark blue dress shirt instead of the sweater and t-shirt, the hat left on his kitchen table. He didn't plan on recording this conversation. Especially if Edgeworth reacted badly. Which was... likely.
"You look good," the words were out before he could stop them and he smiled, almost sheepishly as he leaned back into his chair. "Nothing to drink, Edgeworth?"
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