Who: Danny, Javert, and anyone else in the Courthouse Where: The Courthouse, Governing District, Somni Style: Either Status: Closed to Courthouse denizens.
But absent was the long list of menial chores and tasks Danny was usually assigned.
Instead, Javert was counting and extracting several rounds from a pile of colorful coins. Somarium credits, to be exact, all in neat color-coded segments in front of him. This he accomplished with a certain agitated but precise hand, with an unintelligible and foreign muttering under his breath. He paid the boy no mind when he entered, and in fact, he appeared completely uninterested, business having transpired as such every workday since Edgeworth and he assigned Danny his sentence.
Through the tense quiet, he abruptly scooped the newly-separated pile of coins into his fist and dropped them into a prepared pouch set to his left. He drew the string tight and tossed it to the far end of his desk.
"Come here," Javert commanded roughly. He did not need to lift his head to know Danny would comply.
Danny cracks his eyelids open a little further when he's met with relative silence. No sheets of paper have been thrust towards him, no gruff orders to go somewhere else for his duties. The only sounds in the room are the Inspector's muttering and the clink of coins as they're stacked. Waiting for the Inspector to finish, Danny stays where he is, following the credits with his eyes as they're meticulously counted out before him.
Finally, the credits are scooped back up in their bag. Danny, absorbed in a thoughtless stare at the desk, jerks his head up at the short command. "Huh? ...Oh."
He obliges, stepping close to the desk. "What is it?"
Javert drew a pre-stamped sheet of paper from his desk, lifted a pen from his inkwell and began to write in tight, neat script. When a ghost clad in a detective's cap and a long trench coat trudged by the Inspector, grumbling about a stiff shot of whiskey, he flashed little more than an irritated frown.
"Your sentence has expired."
He sprinkled a pinch of a fine dust over the brief letter to quicken its drying, then flipped it about for Danny to see. Javert thrust the pen at the boy.
When the ghost ambles past, Danny is distracted by the sudden need to cough into his hands, trying to hide the feeling of ice in his lungs--and, more imporantly, the cold mist escaping them. Busy with this, and absolutely certain that today is an ordinary day, Danny only just registers the Inspector's words, and almost misses them altogether.
A beat passes. "... Wait. Huh?" Danny takes the pen automatically, looking at it, and then at the Inspector.
"Did you just say 'expired'? As in, 'I'm through having to work here' expired? I'm done?"
Having just returned a short time ago from his morning patrol, Akihiko is walking quickly through the halls with a report tucked under his arm. Perhaps he isn't so much as walking quickly as he is doing squats every few feet. He looks absolutely ridiculous but doesn't seem to mind -- no one's watching him, right?
Danny's tired, but not tired enough to overlook something like that. Having just passed through that hall on his way to the Inspector's office, the half-ghost does a doubletake, backtracking to stare. "What the...
.. Hey, doesn't he know this guy? Somewhat, yes. He doesn't know him very well, unfortunately, since they've only met in passing, but he still knows him. (What was his name again? Aki... Akihiko?)
Now considerably more awake, Danny glances the direction he's supposed to be going, and then back at the absurd exercises.
... The Inspector can wait.
Danny coughs a little, before saying, "Uh--what're you doing?
Comments 14
Instead, Javert was counting and extracting several rounds from a pile of colorful coins. Somarium credits, to be exact, all in neat color-coded segments in front of him. This he accomplished with a certain agitated but precise hand, with an unintelligible and foreign muttering under his breath. He paid the boy no mind when he entered, and in fact, he appeared completely uninterested, business having transpired as such every workday since Edgeworth and he assigned Danny his sentence.
Through the tense quiet, he abruptly scooped the newly-separated pile of coins into his fist and dropped them into a prepared pouch set to his left. He drew the string tight and tossed it to the far end of his desk.
"Come here," Javert commanded roughly. He did not need to lift his head to know Danny would comply.
Reply
Finally, the credits are scooped back up in their bag. Danny, absorbed in a thoughtless stare at the desk, jerks his head up at the short command. "Huh? ...Oh."
He obliges, stepping close to the desk. "What is it?"
Reply
"Your sentence has expired."
He sprinkled a pinch of a fine dust over the brief letter to quicken its drying, then flipped it about for Danny to see. Javert thrust the pen at the boy.
"Sign."
Reply
A beat passes. "... Wait. Huh?" Danny takes the pen automatically, looking at it, and then at the Inspector.
"Did you just say 'expired'? As in, 'I'm through having to work here' expired? I'm done?"
Reply
Reply
.. Hey, doesn't he know this guy? Somewhat, yes. He doesn't know him very well, unfortunately, since they've only met in passing, but he still knows him. (What was his name again? Aki... Akihiko?)
Now considerably more awake, Danny glances the direction he's supposed to be going, and then back at the absurd exercises.
... The Inspector can wait.
Danny coughs a little, before saying, "Uh--what're you doing?
Reply
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