♔ DEMON PROSECUTOR.

indie miles edgeworth

[prosecutormiles]

.

[ungarmax]

omg. Feenie B2 with Edgy C1!

There they are!

[itonokogiris]

today was a bad day for me so.. gumworth for the soul

[prosecutormiles]

Shi Long Lang: *arms crossed* a lone wolf follows his own path.

Police officer: for the last time, sir, this is an active crime scene. PLEASE put a shirt on.

[irradiatedtea]

Oh Phoenix, you can’t save them all

[prosecutormiles]

chief prosecutor skye.

“Of course not.”

Wasn’t there anything else she could do? Anything else to drive another nail into her coffin?

She realized, irritably, that she was trying to end this wretched waiting. Waiting for the prosecution to form their arguments, waiting for Phoenix Wright to fail (and he would fail, no matter what tiny instinct of self-preservation she had left, this was for Ema), waiting for the judge to hand down his verdict.

And of course Ema had found Wright. Of all of the defense attorneys in the city–anyone else would have tried to get Lana to, at the very least, plead guilty in the hopes of getting a lighter sentence–Ema’d had to go and do the clever thing, and pick the only defense attorney to have defeated Miles Edgeworth three times.

Still–Edgeworth was here.

She fiddled with the bandage on her hand, a little absently, opening and closing her hand against the pressure of the bandage and the sticky feeling of the wound underneath. The wrapping was stiff, beginning to go a little gray around the edges with dirt, even after a day, and the gauze underneath kept shifting. The wound had closed properly, at least, which was a comfort. But the current situation was tedious, though rewrapping it was bound to introduce germs, and sepsis… would prevent her from altering the course of this trial where necessary.

“But you did come to visit me, you know. There must have been something that you were lacking. Was there not another question you wanted to ask? Anything that the detectives wanted an explanation for?”

♚ ── Miles knew that she was not going to give him any satisfactory answers to what he really wanted asked.  That was, of course, why he had not bothered to ask in the first place.  There was no good answer to why someone would try to frame him for murder.  Even if it had been randomly his car she had chosen, she would have known it was his.

And it hurt. Miles was aware that he was far from well liked, even within the prosecutors' office, when it came down to it.  People had tolerated him for the same reason they had tolerated von Karma -- because he had always won.  Now he did not have that perfect win record, and his mentor was sitting in a jail cell, awaiting his execution.

But Lana had always been the one to -- well, not defend him, exactly.  But she had always seemed to stand in his corner on these matters.  If he couldn't trust in that, well, what could he trust?

He felt very tired, suddenly.  Maybe he was here because he wanted to hate her, to strip away the personal factor in this trial, to distance himself.  But if that was the case, he was failing even at that.  He didn't hate Lana Skye.  Even after what she had done to Detective Goodman, and to what she had done to him, he couldn't quite manage it.  He was angry, yes.  He was hurt, yes.  But he did not hate her.

Miles mentally smoothed back his own ruffled feathers and put on a mask of arrogant indifference.

“I came because there was one point in your testimony you did not clarify,” he stated, and he didn't bother quite keeping the anger out of his voice.  As long as she couldn't see the hurt, she wouldn't be able to hurt him more.  “In fact, it seems like a topic you've been avoiding.  That is, of course, your motive.”

[prosecutormiles]

franziska.

She could tell he was concerned for her safety from the get-go. It was easy to see through him. Of course, she had already considered every possibility of something going wrong during her flight. Her cell phone had been fully charged. She would call him first if anything happened.

He deserved to know as the only family she had left, after all. To answer his question, she proceeded to rest a hand on her hip.

“Right now. When else? I have made an appointment with one of my partners to meet me at the airport upon my arrival. I refuse to be late or imperfect in my work. You should know that, Miles Edgeworth.”

A visible smirk appeared on her features at her last sentence.

♚ ── Miles supposed that he had known that answer before he had even asked the question. It was true -- when had Franziska ever been anything short of meticulous in her plans? Interpol could certainly have done worse for themselves.

“I assumed that was the case, but it's usually best to ask,” he reminded her gently, standing up from his desk and brushing away an imaginary wrinkle on his suit pants.

He had already seen a report on the case in Russia, although he hadn't had much time to look through it.  With Franziska on the case, he would definitely be checking up on it later.  For now, however, he had more important things to worry about.

“I'll give you a ride to the airport, then,” he offered.

[prosecutormiles]

agent green.

Pepper couldn’t help but give a small chuckle at that.

“I see you’re a man of taste, Mr. Edgeworth. I can hardly stomach the stuff myself.” She had been in his position a few times, after all. Oftentimes she found the horrible bile hospitals tried to pass off as “tea” to be worse than whatever ordeal she was going through at the time.

“In that case, I’ll make sure to bring you something higher quality the next time I see you. As for the investigation, I’m overseeing it myself.”

Or rather, she would be once she was satisfied Miles was alright.

♚ ── Miles could appreciate a person who appreciated good tea.  He decided that they would likely get along.  Which was good, because he planned on being as involved in this case as possible.  He wouldn't be able to prosecute, most likely, since he'd either still be in the hospital or called as a witness, depending on how quickly they were able to apprehend the culprit.

“I would appreciate that,” he replied gratefully.  He wasn't sure how he was supposed to heal if he had only this poor excuse for tea to drink.

On to more pressing matters, then.

“How is the investigation going?  Do you have any suspects?” he asked.

[prosecutormiles]

wright.

Oh no.

Now this is where things could get really awkward again. Or lead to some kind of dumb argument that the two of them were known to have. He had fully intended to pay either by splitting the bill or paying for his own meal. But now Edgeworth’s card was in the server’s hand and she was already taking the payment…

(Damn it, Edgeworth.)

And he hadn’t even given the bill a glance! What must it be like to live without counting every penny? Ah, but this was fine. This just meant that the next time he would pay whether it be dinner or something else. That was fair, right?

(And I won’t have you argue with me…)

When that’s taken care of, he smiles and thanks him for paying, but then out comes the pointer finger!! It makes Pess tilt her head. (It’s okay, girl. I’m not going to threaten your owner.)

“But next time we go out somewhere, I’m paying.” He smiles while he says it, though.

♚ ── Ah. So he had offended -- at least, a little -- by paying the bill without asking. Miles had never really been in a position where he wanted for much of anything, but he did understand the sentiment.  It was just that it was more logical for him to pay the bill.

But Wright was a grown man, capable of his own decisions, and Miles wasn't about to question his capability of handling his own money. Clearly, he had some sort of decent economic sense, if he had kept his private practice open and in business for as long as he had.

The idea of there being a definite 'next time' was a little intimidating, but...well, that was what friends did, right?  It wasn't as though he had had a negative experience here.  It would be nice to do this again.

“Fine,” he replied.  “But I'll warn you, my tastes don't run cheap.”  As if that wasn't obvious.

[prosecutormiles]

shi-long.

Lang zi actually didn’t say that, but he wasn’t going to admit it.  He went over to Miles and leaned behind him to look at the magazine.  “Do we?”  The clothes in the magazine were nothing like he expected to wear when he got married.  “I’m wearing one of these?”

♚ ── “If you want to,” Miles replied.  “I don't mind if you want something more like what you'd wear if the wedding was in Zheng Fa.”  He didn't know what that would look like, actually.

[prosecutormiles]

shi-long.

“What?  But Lang zi says to let the sweat from the hunt linger while you relish your victory, right?”  Shi-Long had ever intention to take a shower as soon as possible.  He took off his shoes and gave them to Max to have him carry them to his bedroom.  “What’re you up to?”  He thought he recognized the subject of the magazine Miles was looking at.

♚ ── “He did, did he,” Miles commented.  “Well, I say, you stink and I don't want to smell you anymore, so you should go shower.”

He held up the magazine.  “I'm looking at formal wear.  We need to pick colors, by the way.”

[prosecutormiles]

shi-long.

Shi-Long burst into the house.  He howled, and Max howled along with him.  Pess managed to hold out against peer pressure.  

“What a run!”  Shi-Long said.  Max ran over to Miles and jumped up on the couch to lick his face.

♚ ── Miles tolerated Max's excitement for about ten seconds before he physically wrangled him out of his face.  His words were things like “no” and “stop,” but he was smiling as he said them.

“Go take a shower,” Miles snorted, taking off his saliva covered glasses to polish them on his bathrobe.

[prosecutormiles]

shi-long.

There wasn’t really much Shi-Long could do other than make that clear.  It had taken this long to even get Miles to bring up what had happened in the first place.  He wasn’t a feelings kind of guy.

Lang turned his attention back to the television.  He was sure it wasn’t that Miles didn’t trust him.  

♚ ── There was plenty of time for planning a wedding, considering they didn't even have a confirmed date yet, but Miles was not one to waste time. Also, he was really enjoying paging through wedding catalogs and trying to decide what sort of suit he wanted to wear.

That was what he was doing right then, sitting in his pajamas at the kitchen table one Saturday morning on which he had nothing planned. Shi-Long had taken the dogs for their morning run, and so he was going to enjoy the morning with some tea.

He circled another entry and then wrote 'without the tie' next to it in blue ink.

[prosecutormiles]

shi-long.

“All right.”  Shi-Long kissed Miles’ head, on his hair.  He pulled back a little, but his lips still brushed against his hair when he talked.  “It’s kind of important to me that I know what’s up with you.  You’re part of my pack, so I want to have your back.”  

♚ ── Miles wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.  He knew Shi-Long meant well, but he didn't like the idea of burdening someone else with his problems. His father had died twenty years ago, and von Karma nearly five.  It was long past time to move on.

That thought depressed him.  But Shi-Long meant well, and that was what was important, he supposed.  The next episode was about to begin, and that would help push those thoughts away too.

“I know,” he murmured.

[prosecutormiles]

shi-long.

Shi-Long waited until the end of the first episode, when Miles seemed especially relaxed.  “Any better?” he asked.  How did you ask that guy how he was feeling?  There were times when it was kind of his job, as his packmate, but Miles didn’t usually make it easy.

♚ ── Well, he had felt better while he was distracted from thinking about what was bothering him.  Now that Shi-Long brought it up, it didn't feel so great.

“Yes,” he replied.  It wasn't really a lie, because it had been working.  And it probably would help again.

[prosecutormiles]

shi-long.

“Eh, look.  I like it.  I’m just not into it like you are,” Shi-Long said, shrugging.  Miles seemed to find more meaning in it than he saw himself on the screen.

He’d found himself quoting something Pink Princess said to one of his underlings, a few days ago.  Whether or not he liked it, the series was part of his life now.

He put his arm over Miles’ shoulders.  

♚ ── Miles leaned against Shi-Long, accepting the cuddle for what it was.  Pess hopped up on the sofa with them a moment later, resting her head on Miles' leg. Max was too busy attacking one of his toys to join them at the moment, but he would probably hop up later.

The opening theme song served to calm him down a little, and the familiar motions of the opening scene made him relax a little more.

[prosecutormiles]

shi-long.

“You know I like your kid show,” Shi-Long said.  He grinned at Miles and settled in.

♚ ── “I know you tolerate it,” Miles replied, pouting a little bit.  He wasn't going to argue the semantics of calling it a kids' show, since it had been marketed toward children.  But in reality, it was filled with subtle nuance and carried strong messages that only an adult could fully appreciate.

He settled onto the sofa next to Shi-Long and turned on the television, going straight to the DVR where he had the full first two seasons saved.