just watched a star trek episode about a planet that relied so heavily on it's computer system that they all forgot the basics of their own knowledge. and that allowed them to miss the fact that they were being posioned with radiation and nearly ending their civilization. because they couldn't use their own knowledge to figure things out. i bring this up for no reason in particular
As a chronic people-pleaser, this is my advice for success.
Offer as little as possible. Be terse. Get rid of all those exclamation marks and tidbits about why you want to take a sick day. State your needs clearly and concisely without reason. Start saying “No, I’m unable.” more often. Say Thank You only when the other party deserves it.
To be quite honest with you all I do think that aro/ace-spectrum fans in fandoms where people are desperately inventing crossover ships and humanizing non-human characters in order to have a conventionally attractive guy to ship the main character with, instead of possibly having to enjoy a story with no romance in it, have the right to refer to everyone else as cowards.
post-jfa post farewell, edgeworth tries to talk phoenix through a crisis about what this 'law' thing is
--
"It's just," Wright says, and stops. "No, it's nothing, Edgeworth. Don't worry about it."
"What is it?" Miles asks, impatient. "Stop wasting time and spit it out."
Wright laughs. "It's just," he says again. "The evidence led to the wrong place. It forked. I could have gotten Ms Andrews convicted on the evidence Engarde left."
"I take it that makes you uncomfortable.”
"Well, yeah," says Wright. He's playing with his tie. "We found him out, but what if we hadn't? What if I'd just trusted him and followed the court record to an acquittal? The evidence has always been the bright line. I trust where it leads me, you know? To be the truth."
"And now you have discovered it is possible to twist the evidence into whatever narrative you see fit," Miles says, somewhat coolly. "Now you see it is not a lifeline, only a tool. A tool to be used by someone like me."
"I didn't say that," says Wright, mulish.
Miles sighs. "Wright, this revelation is not exclusive to you, nor is it new to me. I'll save you some time, shall I?" He sits beside Wright on the sofa. "You are not some twisted manipulator of the truth," he says. "You are a lawyer. The evidence does not speak for itself. You are its mouthpiece. It is not your lifeline, it is your responsibility. To be used and interpreted fairly to the best of your ability. All this means, Wright, is that you must do your job and do it well."
Wright looks away, still smiling bitterly. "You make it sound so simple."
"It isn't, which is why we must make it so," Miles says. "You must consider the available information, form the most reasonable theory, and present it to the court. This much is your most basic duty. The evidence will support you if you are right. It may support you if you are wrong. You cannot know for sure. You must trust your better judgement, and do your best."
"How am I supposed to live with that?" Wright asks. "That if I'm wrong, an innocent person goes to jail, or--or I let a guilty person go free? I mean, who am I to decide something like that? What if I get it wrong?"
"You are coming to this realisation somewhat late in your career, thanks to your uncommon string of luck," Miles says haughtily, "but that is the burden of the legal profession. We bear it so the public does not have to."
He catches himself. Wright is starting to look more tense than he had been looking before Miles sat down, which is decidedly not the goal of this exercise. Miles takes a slow breath.
"You will make mistakes," he says more gently. "This is a reality you must learn to live with, else you will be unable to continue. To lose you would be a greater detriment to the justice system, I think, than to suffer an error in your judgement. Thus, I hope you will come to terms with your fallibility quickly."
Wright heaves a big sigh. "I don't get it," he says. "I'm pretty sure you're trying to say something nice, so tell me why it still sounds like 'get over yourself'?"
Miles sniffs, offended. "You are also forgetting the lesson you yourself taught me, Wright."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"That you do not stand in court alone," says Miles. "Such is the basis of the adversarial system. If there is a flaw in your argument, I will counter it accordingly. In the joint thesis formed by the battle between prosecution and defence, the truth may be found. The evidence is not the safety net which seeks to catch the truth. Your ability to trust in your opposing counsel, then, must be."
Wright doesn't move or acknowledge in any way that he's heard Miles speak. Miles hovers beside him, unsure what to do next.
When Wright does speak, it's to the floor. "This law thing is really hard."
"I've noticed," Miles says drily.
"I couldn't talk to Mia," Wright says, still to the floor. "By the end of that she didn't care at all what happened to Engarde. She just needed Maya to be safe."
"It's understandable," Miles says.
"Couldn't talk to Maya. I mean, god. God." Wright lowers his face to his knees. "And you..."
Miles hesitates. "You can always talk to me," he says stiffly. "As I--well. I believe I am best placed to understand what you are going through, as a fellow member of the profession."
"I'm out of practice talking to you," Wright says into his slacks. "Year-long habits die hard."
Miles bites his lip.
"Sorry," says Wright, still muffled. "Not sorry for giving you a hard time. You deserve it. I'll save it for later, though."
"All right," Miles says, resigned.
Wright lifts his head. "I nearly asked for it," he says. "The not guilty. I could've got it."
"I know. I would not have judged you."
"I would've. It doesn't matter. I wouldn't have done it. And I didn't have to. I looked up and you were there." Wright stares blankly at the wall. "I thought... I thought I didn't know you anymore. Maybe at all. I thought the person I knew could never have done what you did. I thought I'd been wrong all along, to believe in you."
Miles manages not to flinch.
"But you were there," Wright says softly. "I almost asked for the not guilty, but I couldn't. You were there. I saw you and I knew no matter what you'd catch me."
"Wright--"
"The evidence didn't save me," Wright says. "Believing in my client could have ruined an innocent woman's life. Maya was gone. Mia only cared about getting her back. Everything I've ever relied on... everything I've ever learned about being a lawyer... it all disappeared." Wright shakes his head. "Except you. You were there and I saw you. I knew you wouldn't let me fall. I knew you wouldn't stop until we found the truth. Edgeworth..." Wright gestures helplessly. "Thank you. Saying it's not enough, but it's all I have."
"Don't thank me," says Miles. "All I've done is my job. It's poor compensation for the heartache I've apparently caused you."
"We are getting back to that apparently," Wright mumbles. "God, it's kind of humbling realising I have so much to learn."
"Believe me, I know the feeling," Miles mutters.
"And Edgeworth... we really have to talk."
"I know," says Miles.
Wright takes his arm. "But we can do that later," he says. His eyes are warm. "Right now, I... I'm glad you're back. It's good to see you again. I'm really glad you're back."
It's as hard as it's ever been to look Phoenix Wright in the face; it's like staring into the sun. Miles makes his best effort and says, haltingly, "As ever, Mr Wright, it is the least I can do.”
does anyone else's brain really like to mash together sentences in languages that have no business being mashed. was petting one of our cats and thought with full confidence "この gatinho es とても wunderbar" and didn't reigster that it was wrong at first. ich bin cooked.
gummygunk
prguitarman
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
andulkaphoto
