APPLICATION: HOMETRAIL
player info.
name/handle: tengu
contact info: boojerba@gmail, kkakkoongie@aim, lj pm
personal journal: chum
previous characters: apped zevran (dragon age: origins) and nero (devil may cry)
character info.
character name: Miles Edgeworth
canon & medium: Ace Attorney, Video Game
age & species: 26, Human
appearance: 1, 2, 3
• Edgeworth is described multiple times in-game by various female characters as handsome; one must assume from the devoted stalkers he's racked up that he is, indeed, quite attractive.
• Special details of note are his hair (naturally a gray/near-white color) and his old-fashioned, highly formal style of dress (the suit and cravat being prime examples of this). The suit itself has become somewhat less old-fashioned over time, however, which is perhaps a sign that he's relaxing a bit--if only infinitesimally. But he's probably the sort of person who feels naked without that cravat.
previous rpg memories: N/A
timeline: Post Farewell My Turnabout (final case) in Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney: Justice For All!
background/history link: Miles Edgeworth - The Ace Attorney Wiki
personality:
Case Files: Profiles: Miles Edgeworth
"We aren't some sort of heroes. We're only human, you and I. You want to save someone? That's easier said than done..."
Miles Edgeworth: the perfect prosecutor. He'll stop at nothing to get his guilty verdict--rumor has it he'll even go so far as to manipulate the evidence. Trained to a T by his mentor, Manfred von Karma--an even more ruthless prosecutor--Edgeworth's name is infamous in the courtroom because he's never lost a single case. Going up against him is like committing legal suicide. And that's what's on file, enough to intimidate a lawyer into losing the case before opening statements.
This is the Miles Edgeworth that everyone knows, the callous, calculating prosecutor to whom we're first introduced; he's set up perfectly to play the part of Phoenix Wright's nemesis, his arch-rival. And play that part he does, more than adequatey, until the prosecutor with the perfect record is taken to task by a relatively untested young lawyer. He has a perfect record of his own, but only because this is his second real case as a defense laywer. It's not exactly the spotless pedigree Edgeworth has to offer. After being bested by Wright, it is the first time we are given any indication that Edgeworth is more--or perhaps less--than his flawless appearance indicates. He isn't simply a walking guilty verdict, though up to this point, he has been.
Few things rattle Edgeworth's composure at this point in the game. One is an unprepared witness, or a particularly loquacious one. Only when Edgeworth is tested by Wendy Oldbag's incessant chatter does he really lose his cool; one is able to see a different side of him, flustered and annoyed by irrelevant babbling. He becomes more youthful and outwardly frustrated, lacking the cocky, know-it-all attitude he otherwise displays. The other key to rattling Edgeworth is Phoenix Wright's ability to challenge him in court. By the end of the first case, Edgeworth has experienced something completely new to him: defeat.
Needless to say, in order to defend his honor, Edgeworth must defend his record. The second battle of wits between him and Wright has the same outcome. It is here, in the case against the Steel Samurai, that it becomes clear Edgeworth will stop at nothing to pursue and achieve his guilty verdict. Evidence that doesn't agree with his case is swept under the rug, purposefully hidden from the court and the judge. And Phoenix Wright--naive, idealistic, wet-behind-the-ears Phoenix Wright--can't stand tactics like that. Especially when, as it's revealed, Edgeworth's father, whom he once idealized beyond words, was a famous lawyer, but not a prosecutor. Rather, he was a defense attorney, and Edgeworth showed promise of following in his footsteps.
It is revealed that, as a boy, Edgeworth defended the young Phoenix Wright in grade school, standing up for him--standing up for the truth, and for justice--in a classroom court, when Phoenix was charged with thievery. The theft itself was of Edgeworth's own money, and his defense of the accused only goes to prove how devoted Edgeworth once was to the principle of justice, not a specific verdict. Yet one day soon after, when the friendship born of this incident was only just beginning to grow, Edgeworth suddenly transferred schools. And the rest is, as they say, history.
What could have happened to change the ideals presented by this new Edgeworth, now seen in court? And why is Edgeworth so obsessed with the guilt of the defendants in his trials? This is a question that, at least at this point, even Edgeworth himself might be incapable of answering out loud. He's spent a great deal of time trying to bury it--burying everything, from his past to his guilt. His entire life has been spent in pursuit of that guilt, obsessively punishing others. But for what purpose?
The puzzle begins to come together when the unthinkable happens: Edgeworth is accused of, and arrested for, murder. Now, albeit very slowly, his carefully constructed persona begins to unravel, and the man beneath the myth is painstakingly revealed, through Wright's investigation and the stages of the case. The death of Edgeworth's father, Gregory Edgeworth, and Edgeworth's own role as a witness; the earthquake that has made him terrified of earthquakes to this day; the horrible nightmare with the blood-curdling scream that has suddenly come back to haunt him: everything is laid bare, shuffled and sorted as the catalysing elements of a terrible crime he insists, with startling emotion, he did not commit.
For a man as private as Miles Edgeworth, to have his personal life unveiled in a court of law is excruciating. It's like every childhood nightmare of being suddenly naked in class on the day of the big exam; there's nothing to compare to how raw it feels, how vulnerable Edgeworth becomes as, piece by piece, the traumatizing events of his past are revealed to everyone. A character who has done his best to maintain a careful distance from others, including even distancing himself from himself, Edgeworth is suddenly forced to share everything, even those things he hasn't untangled yet in his own mind.
As the player goes through the process of discovery, so too does Edgeworth go through a process of self-discovery. Yet it isn't a joyous one, as he finally comes to terms with what he believes must be the truth: that he was the one, albeit accidentally, to kill his beloved father. This truth, he realizes, is what has haunted him all this time, and why he's been so ruthless with criminals. All this time, he's been prosecuting none other than himself, seeking to punish himself for his own crimes.
After his innocence is proven, the loss of that single goal leaves Edgeworth unbalanced, without an equilibrium. Suddenly, no longer consumed by that keen sense of guilt, that incessant need to punish, Edgeworth's purpose as a prosecutor--his life's pursuits--have lost their previous meaning. This leads him to disappear, leaving behind a note explaining that he "chooses death," a cryptic statement that infuriates Wright, who believes it's all a result of Edgeworth's wounded pride.
Yet this time alone is far from a proud man's reaction to a wounded ego; he's not crawling into a hole for the sake of hiding his shame. While Edgeworth was once infuriated by defeat at the hands of such an unseasoned rookie as Wright, his entire attitude has been revolutionized, leading him to go on a walkabout of sorts. More than anything, it's a search for the truth--a search for a new purpose, not only for Edgeworth to understand himself but to learn about what being a lawyer, prosecutor or defense, really means. After suffering for so long and so much under a bull-headed, foolish assumption, Edgeworth has realized it's time to grow up, to find a maturity of meaning in his profession that was lacking up until this point.
When he returns, it's at first to help his one-time rival with a few difficult cases--clear that now he believes in the power of evidence over the power of a desired verdict; in the power of clearing an innocent name rather than condemning a potential criminal. And when Edgeworth is finally forced to take another prosecutor's place in Phoenix's current trial, it's clear that--though he remains calm, composed and calculating as ever, still a ruthless lawyer with a crystal-sharp intellect--he isn't the prosecutor he used to be. Still willing to press what he must out of a witness, Edgeworth's behavior during Adrian Andrews' testimony is a shining example of what he's learned during his time away. He's willing to make himself look like a cad, uncaring of what people think of him, in order to get the truth out of someone--by doing something so unsavory as pressing Andrews on her most shameful memories, he saves her from being wrongfully accused of a murder she didn't commit. Edgeworth, once obsessed with tallies, with totals, with records, finally understands something with which even Phoenix Wright hasn't yet come to terms: the end does not always justify the means.
This is the prime lesson Edgeworth has returned to teach Phoenix, having finally learned it for himself.
Edgeworth now understands that the nature of a perfect trial is one conducted with perfect teamwork, both the prosecution and the defense working together to find the true verdict. This is why he's pushed Phoenix so hard, and why he pushes himself equally hard, if not even more so. Though his goals have shifted, he now sets himself to achieving them with the same thorough devotion. Unfortunately, he has to wait for Phoenix to come around, but--perhaps shockingly--Phoenix is likely the one person in Miles Edgeworth's life whom he trusts the most, especially when it comes to making the right decision. Ultimately, Edgeworth has discovered more meaning in prosecuting than simply defending his record. Not only does he realize this for himself, but he also chooses to impart this revelation to Franziska von Karma, as well. One cannot quit simply because of failure; one's own pride is far from the most important element of a case.
Even undergoing such an extreme metamorphosis between the first and second games, Edgeworth remains an aloof and private person, behavior one might easily label distant. Part of it is due to the way he was brought up, which appears to have been somewhat stifling and draconian; part is simply due to his own personality. He clearly savors his privacy, and finds it awkward to talk to people when the topic isn't strictly business. This aspect of his personality reveals his vulnerable side once more, as it's obvious he doesn't perform to his own exacting standards when it comes to simple, daily interactions. For Edgeworth, "What's hard is simple, what's natural comes hard."
Yet there are small chinks in Edgeworth's armor--moments when one is able to deduce from his actions what his real emotions are. For example, it's clear he cares a great deal about Maya Fey, due to her selfless assistance during his trial, her devotion to protecting him and proving his innocence. And, when Maya is later kidnapped, it's obvious that--despite how wealthy he is--money is no object to Edgeworth when it comes to protecting someone he cares about; he throws himself just as whole-heartedly into finding Maya and rescuing her from her kidnapper as Phoenix does, even putting himself in harm's way when he could just as easily send the police force in his stead. He puts his money where his mouth is, especially when it really counts. He cares, deeply, about people, even if he's unable to express that caring in other ways.
Though Edgeworth experiences tremendous difficulty actually saying "thank you," both to Phoenix for representing him and to Maya for going out on a limb during his trial, his actions, as always, speak louder than his words--or in this case, speak where his words do not. What else could explain the dedication he now shows, however subtly, for the members of the Law Offices of Wright & Co.? Where Phoenix was once inspired by Edgeworth's devotion to justice--inspired enough to become a lawyer--it is now Edgeworth's turn to be inspired by Phoenix's devotion to his clients. Thanks to Phoenix Wright, Edgeworth has been able to re-learn what it means to be a prosecutor. Funny how life comes full circle like that, isn't it?
abilities: LOGIC! Logic is by far the most important asset Edgeworth has in his arsenal; it helps him to deduce and determine, to contemplate and conclude. His deductive and inductive reasoning skills are naturally very strong, but they are also extremely well-trained, and the combination of his good instincts and book-learning make him a formidable opponent.
To say that Edgeworth is a prodigy would be understating the matter, not to mention underestimating his considerable talents. Not only was he something of a child genius, but his rigorous work ethic has kept his skills honed and sharp where others would simply sit back and relax, confident in their superiority. He certainly isn't the sort to rest on his laurels; at every chance to improve himself, to push himself harder, he does so. His diligence and devotion to detail are some of his strongest assets.
From working closely with detectives, he has thorough knowledge of investigation procedures, and he knows what to look for at a crime scene. Also, if his court record is anything to go by, he has clearly dedicated himself to the study of law, thus granting him a vast and impressive mental library to draw upon, not only while in court, but also outside of it. His sharp attention to detail and excellent memory are invaluable when behind the prosecutor's stand, but it's his newly-learned selflessness that allows him to be a truly great prosecutor.
any plans for your character here? Nothing specific comes to mind, though potentially having him be involved in matters of justice on the caravan would be really fun. Not sure how that would work out just yet, but Edgeworth does tend to get himself involved, especially when injustice is involved; he's not the sort to sit idly by, whether it's trying to figure himself out, or trying to get to the heart of a case. Hopefully this won't be too annoying, but depending on the duration of his stay in Willaknapp and the events in the caravan, as well as mod interest in the idea, he'd probably start doing his legal eagle thing during his journey. Some people just don't know how to take a vacation...
possessions: Other than the (admittedly somewhat curious) clothes on his back, Edgeworth will be carrying the following:
• Extra cravat.
• Various office supplies: a yellow legal pad, an expensive fountain pen, extra ink.
• A few case files for cases he's reviewing.
• His cellphone for contacting the police (unfortunately for them, this won't be working in Willaknapp). It has a Steel Samurai charm/strap on it.
• Prosecutor's badge. (He never leaves home without it.)
samples.
sample journal entry: [ written ]
'Willaknapp.'
All my experiences heretofore inform me that, unless I have accidentally stumbled upon the opening of some brand new theme park, this place cannot possibly be real. Others might easily assume the resulting mirage is the product of a dream -- or, even worse, a "bender" -- but I neither dream frequently enough for such vivid imagination, nor do I "bend" in that crude sense of the word. Thus, once having pinched myself adequately, it is easy to see that my initial supposition about the place was incorrect. I am not dreaming. This is no mirage. Ergo I must believe that this 'Willaknapp' is real, though it has all the trappings of a fantasy.
The evidence is...irrefutable. It is rare to find any case that is so airtight, especially when it points to such a ridiculous truth. And yet, if anything, I know what I must do. I must believe.
Yet this is quite difficult when I am told there is an Ogre here. How can one believe, upon a single first-person testimony alone, that such a creature exists? That ogre I have not yet seen with my own eyes, though perhaps I should be grateful for that small boon, even if it is only procrastination of the inevitable.
My uncharacteristic eagerness to believe in the tale of the ogre is due to evidence I have seen with my own eyes: a creature whose name I do not know, and whose form is completely foreign to me, like a man made entirely of rock. It did not try to hurt me, nor do I think it wished to--this is not to say its form was not immediately shocking, but I do not believe I had reason to fear for my life. I must hope this assumption will prove correct.
NOTE: UNDETERMINED SPECIES, UNDETERMINED GENDER, UNDETERMINED AGE. Spotted at what appeared to be noon. Did not appear to be aggressive. Apparent physicality composed of some kind of igneous rock?
[ a clicking sound, the device switching from written mode to voice mode. ]
This application is suitable to use for my records here. One even wonders why such a device is not more regularly employed by the police force? I shall have to look into it.
third-person sample: It takes a great deal of training for a man to keep his head when everything that presents itself is wildly unexpected, but Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth has had a great deal of training. It is not, perhaps, as immediately exciting as the physical training one finds in action movies--trivial things he doesn't have the time for, though he does catch the occasional television program now and then, sometimes every Sunday at the same hour, only to find out what happens next--but it has been rigorous and thorough enough that, when confronted with experiences wildly beyond his ken, Edgeworth nonetheless remains cool. Composed. He looks confident, in any case.
For some people, that appearance is enough.
For Edgeworth, it was at least why he was able to search the area in which he found himself thoroughly, taking mental note of its peculiarities and inconsistences. He's found himself in a small house--more like a hut, he'd clarify, if pressed to specificy the definition--with quaint furniture that looks, if anything, like the props from a period drama. Not any local period, either, but it's been said in studies that children these days are hungry not just for programs about their own history, but foreign histories as well.
Hence his first conclusion: Studio Set.
Yet everything is too large, and graced with too much detail, for that possibility. So, he amends his assessment, and comes to his second conclusion, within the span of a few seconds: Theme Park.
Something feels off about it as soon as he settles on it. Even with an outlandish budget, it would be impossible to create, through man-made means, what Edgeworth sees next outside the window. This is a world of its own, with each texture lush and vibrant down to the last, little leaf. Every bud is of a genus of flower Edgeworth has never encountered before. Theme parks, he knows from what little experience he has with them, are usually dirty and foul and not busy in the early hours of the morning, nor do they have exotic birds chirping in tree branches, shaking their glorious plumage. At best, they might have a parrot of some kind, obnoxiously and inanely repeating simple statements for the pleasure of the crowd. But there would be nothing so otherworldly as this.
Edgeworth pulls out the junogam, slowly--a device he mistrusted at first glance, but now has to admit may prove useful for recording information and storing this abundance of details. There's no human way a single man, even one with such rigorous training of mind as his own, can keep all these lists running in his brain at one time. Assistance would be beneficial. He isn't too proud to accept that assistance, not now, not after everything.
He's busy with the rules, too busy to see the thing appear, but when he looks back up it's right in front of him: observing him with the same studious curiosity as a student of the junogam might, upon his first introduction to the creation.
But what is it?
Even with all Edgeworth's knowledge, much of it so very useful, much of it absurdly extraneous, he would not be able to wager a guess to answer that.
Edgeworth feels fear, then sees its eyes, and despite his human instincts--to hate that which looks different--the fear almost immediately fades. And despite the hard external material composing the creature's heavy, yet not quite awkward body, there's something about it that reminds him of a certain large, bumbling detective...
No sudden movements: Edgeworth knows that much. The junogam forgotten in his hand, he does his best not to stare the creature straight in the eye, as one is told never to do with the animals at a zoo. He observes the moss growing in its joints, the carvings over its entire body--as though some artist made this statue, then breathed life into it. Is such a thing even possible?
There's a flower growing in its shoulder, little and delicate and white. He realizes that his appearance must be equally baffling to this stranger: his soft hair, his bright clothes. No wonder it's staring back! Edgeworth takes a deep breath; when it catches in his throat, it seems to break their mutual trance. A sudden stutter of bird-noise distracts the beast--no, the creature is more appropriate, for so far Edgeworth has seen nothing about it that could be considered beast-like. It lumbers off into the distance, leaving Edgeworth alone, clutching the junogam with such passion his knuckles have gone white.
[ note: I spoke with the mods about this a little bit already, but I was hoping an interaction with a golem (though Edgeworth doesn't know IC what that is yet) would be all right for the sample? It says in the Bestiary that golems "get along with those with pure souls" and I was hoping Edgeworth could fit the bill there a little bit, so at least the interaction would be a pleasant one. So yeah, hopefully this works! ]