Is he a dot? Or is he a speck? When he's underwater, does he get wet?
Who: Fatsworth mentis_reae and Fatman kingofrooks. Eatin' pastries.
When: Today. MONDAY THE THIRTEENTH. DUN DUN DUNNNNN.
Where: A coffee shop near police headquarters!
Summary: Two guys get together to talk. One of them has a single identity. One of them has a triple identity. This averages out to two identities per guy.
Warnings: Uh...Maybe language? Turbo-angst from El Hombre Quien Es Uno Murcielago?
This was not Edgeworth's city - not precisely. This was not his police department. And Bruce Wayne, after a scant month of acquaintanceship, was most certainly not yet a friend. Yet even so, Edgeworth felt a strange, proprietary sort of pride as he oversaw the meeting between Police Chief Miller and Mr. Wayne. He was proud, in some strange way, of their efficient, brusque, tough chief; no matter that the police department was hamstrung by inefficiency and corruption, she stood as brutally honest, intimidating proof that it was not altogether corrupted. And Wayne proved quite capably that Edgeworth had been quite justified in vouching for him, coming across as intelligent, erudite, and helpful.
He knew it was incorrect to be proud. Obviously it was incorrect to be proud. It had been Chief Miller and Wayne who had acquitted themselves well. But...Well - He was simply hopeful for the future of the partnership. That was all. That was justifiable.
He'd taken Wayne out for coffee afterwards. He himself purchased a tea and sat at the table opposite the other man. Wayne did look rather the worse for wear - a bruise marring his cheek, an unfortunate souvenir of the riots - but did not seem it in the least.
"She is rather impressive, isn't she?" Edgeworth asked without preamble. The Chief of Police was strong enough a personality that there was little doubt that Wayne would know immediately about whom he was speaking.
When: Today. MONDAY THE THIRTEENTH. DUN DUN DUNNNNN.
Where: A coffee shop near police headquarters!
Summary: Two guys get together to talk. One of them has a single identity. One of them has a triple identity. This averages out to two identities per guy.
Warnings: Uh...Maybe language? Turbo-angst from El Hombre Quien Es Uno Murcielago?
This was not Edgeworth's city - not precisely. This was not his police department. And Bruce Wayne, after a scant month of acquaintanceship, was most certainly not yet a friend. Yet even so, Edgeworth felt a strange, proprietary sort of pride as he oversaw the meeting between Police Chief Miller and Mr. Wayne. He was proud, in some strange way, of their efficient, brusque, tough chief; no matter that the police department was hamstrung by inefficiency and corruption, she stood as brutally honest, intimidating proof that it was not altogether corrupted. And Wayne proved quite capably that Edgeworth had been quite justified in vouching for him, coming across as intelligent, erudite, and helpful.
He knew it was incorrect to be proud. Obviously it was incorrect to be proud. It had been Chief Miller and Wayne who had acquitted themselves well. But...Well - He was simply hopeful for the future of the partnership. That was all. That was justifiable.
He'd taken Wayne out for coffee afterwards. He himself purchased a tea and sat at the table opposite the other man. Wayne did look rather the worse for wear - a bruise marring his cheek, an unfortunate souvenir of the riots - but did not seem it in the least.
"She is rather impressive, isn't she?" Edgeworth asked without preamble. The Chief of Police was strong enough a personality that there was little doubt that Wayne would know immediately about whom he was speaking.