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[ploratioi-blog]

“...Hah. I’d love to see what those adventures bring,” Phoenix nervously said. What the hell was a “bird sensei?” He knew it was better if he didn’t ask.

(I hope “bird sensei” doesn’t...make me eat bird food,) he thought to himself.

Whatever it was, the male was hoping it wasn’t anything insane. “Anyways,” he began, “...Did you ever go back to the bar where the mob chased after us?”

RUNNING BUDDIES

[ploratioi-blog]

He hadn’t even known there was a beach. Why didn’t Flammelle tell him? He wasn’t going to think about that--he was going to sit on the sand and stare at the water.

Or so he thought.

He head a voice, a familiar voice. A voice hadn’t heard for awhile--a voice that he had only imagined in letters and e-mails. Phoenix looked up, and sure enough, he saw the wonderful Maya Fey.

With a soft laugh, he took off his hat, and ran his hands through his hair. “...Heh. Thanks for the popsicle, Miss Fey,” he said, almost laughing at how he addressed his former “paralegal.” Phoenix opened the treat and took a lick, while looking at her. She seemed young--before he had got disbarred. Regardless, he would not fret. It was upsetting she had to see him like this, but he was glad.

“It’s me, Nick...if you can’t recognize me,” he added for safe measures.

He was really glad to have someone he trusted, from home, by his side now.

✯@Ploratioi: Turnabout Reencounter

ploratioi

✯ Hey, would you look at that? Maya had won not one but two popsicles at this beach party game! She had come here over the promise of free food and hadn’t been disappointed so far. Those living in poverty must use every chance they have to attend to their basic needs. It’s one of the sayings contained in the Fey Manor’s ‘100 Ways to Save Money’ scroll.

✯ Of course, as gluttonous as she was, Maya didn’t need to eat two popsicles, especially two from the same flavor. So perhaps… she could share it? Yes, that’d do it! It’d fill her quota of good actions today and assure her a better spot at the afterlife, or something like that.

✯ (Now let’s see… Who here could be in more need of a frozen treat? Oh, that guy over here!) She soon spots what seems to be a hobo, for lack of a better term. He must be one, if he doesn’t even have money to buy some trunks for the beach. She approaches him from behind and pokes his back.

✯ “Congratulations, sir! You’re the lucky winner of a free popsicle, courtesy of the awesome Maya Fey! Hope you enjoy lemon flavor!”

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YO WHAT GIVES

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Samejima had literally run into Phoenix, and bounced right off of him. It was like the manly man was made out of rubber or something, he literally bounced. The former attorney had never seen anything like it! But his recently run-into arm hurt a bit too much for him to process it.

“...Yeah, I am,” the brunet said, rubbing his arm and wincing at the pain, “nice to meet you too, Samejima.” And then...came the bizarre question the red head male presented before him.

“--Wh,” Was all Phoenix could manage.

He was so confused.

(Do I look like I’m breathing fire? I’m a middle-aged man who plays piano in a cold, little hole under a Russian restaurant...)

Once he formed a sensible answer, he let out a sigh and said, “I’m not a bird. Though, ha, that would be cool. I don’t breathe fire, or transform into a Phoenix. I’m just...Phoenix Wright.”

RUNNING BUDDIES

[ploratioi-blog]

What a typical Tuesday night looks like

DOMESTIC HEADCANON MEME

*6 PM*

> Eat a dinner with one of the roommates.

> Go out to get the week’s groceries.

*12 AM*

> Make sure all of the lights are off in the house.

> Lay in bed.

> Roll around in bed.

*2:30 AM*

> Can’t sleep, watch bad movie on the TV

*3 AM*

> Go downstairs.

> Go into pantry.

> ...

> (Who ate all of the potato chips?)

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☃ What they wear around the house

DOMESTIC HEADCANON MEME

Phoenix is not one for matching clothes together, he just purchases outfits meant to be paired together or sweats to wear outdoors. Inside, he just wears boxers (when no ladies are home) or shorts with a gray t-shirt. He’s a man of simple fashion.

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“--It has been awhile, hasn’t it.” Tension was thick in the room, and the weight on Phoenix’s shoulders seemed to become heavier by the minute. The brunet had met with the prosecutor in the past, in Europe, but like he had thought before--that was strictly professional. He had also talked to him after he had been disbarred--but they only had contact every once in awhile. And it was to comfort him or remind him that he needed to prove his innocence as soon as possible.

He couldn’t help but want to dash out of the room, and run far away.

Unfortunately the only exit was closer to Edgeworth than it was to him. Running away would make him look like a fool, and he was sure that the silver could follow him rather quickly.

The ex-attorney grinned slightly, but it was a cold one. The last time he had contact with Edgeworth was when he had came back from Europe, to confirm he had made it home safely. His emotions stirred and he grew angry. The prosecutor was supposed to confirm the transferring of documents to begin a case to prove Phoenix’s innocence--yet after two months, no confirmation was received.

His mind muddled, he completely forgot that Edgeworth could have been from a different time. “But...it has been too long, hasn’t it. You’ve forgotten something.”

later.

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RUNNING BUDDIES

truemansamejima​

(...That was a rude interruption. How am I supposed to get paperwork for the trial done? How is the world going to know the--)

(...Huh?)

A familiar face! Phoenix knew that red hair from miles away. That man was the man that tossed him carelessly over the shoulder after he had won a poker game--and dragged him all the way to a train station. The brunet knew that face.

And...that familiar face was approaching him now.

“...I didn’t get to thank you last time,” Phoenix said with no smile on his face. Even though he was glad to see his hero, he his mind was muddled with other things. “I never got your name either--I’m Phoenix Wright.”

[ploratioi-blog]

later.

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“…Edgeworth.” He had said, not turning around when his name (well, Wright) was called. The brunet could recognize that voice from far, far away. And it was an understatement for Phoenix to want to run away. Run away far. Far away.

(Why was looking at tea ever a good idea?) The male asked himself. He had heard Flammelle talk with Ibuki about a possible Miles lurking around the city. Phoenix had addressed it like he addressed any other rumor nowadays–without much care. Stupid things had risen about him, like how he was a filthy cheater at poker or an absolutely awful lawyer. It was probably just a little joke that the other two had made up to get Phoenix’s spirits up or something.

(Should have taken it seriously. Ha. Too bad. You can’t leave now, Phoenix!)

Honestly. He had been here twice before. He knew that there were different Miles….Mileses? (I’m not going to think about the plural of Miles right now,) that came and went through Hive City. Whoever this Miles was, Phoenix didn’t want to talk to them. He wasn’t prepared.

Even though he had one or two trips to see Europe, it was different then. It was strictly business. Now, he saw Miles in a non-professional setting. It made things uncomfortable.

Phoenix turned around and with an almost condescending smirk, he said, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

[ploratioi-blog]

welcome to hell!

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His bedroom, thankfully, was still the same dreary place he had left it. (Literally, there was a mark in the mattress where he had laid so often.) His suit was nicely pressed and still in the closet, too. So of course, Phoenix didn’t miss the chance to wear it. What he didn’t expect was to go to an ice cream parlor, bump into a kid, and...actually, surprisingly--not get anything on his suit.

He was truly lucky sometimes. Unfortunately...he got it on the kid’s shirt. “...crap. Sorry!” Phoenix grabbed many napkins, and gave them to the male. The chocolate syrup from his vanilla ice cream (on a deluxe waffle cone!) 

“How can I make it up to you--? And oh. Yeah. Phoenix Wright, by the way.”

[ploratioi-blog]

put those skills 2 the test

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He had been searching for three hours.

He had been searching for three hours.

HE HAD BEEN SEARCHING FOR THREE HOURS FOR HIS HAT.

It wasn’t everyday that three little, demonic children grabbed a thirty-two year old man’s hat and ran with it. Phoenix never considered himself nonathletic, but running for three hours and searching frantically for a devil spawn was rather hard on his body. Sure, he lifted crates filled with grape juice very often at the Borscht Bowl--but never did anything that gave him such pain compared to the strain on his muscles at the moment.

Phoenix had tripped over an old lady who proceeded to call him a “whippersnaper.” (He swore he remembered someone just like her, but was too dazed to remember.) He had fallen into a bush. It just wasn’t his day.

Looking around the park, scanning for a blue hat--his eyes fell on something he hadn’t noticed before. An old friend.

(No...that can’t be her.) The ex-attorney thought, giving her a closer look by proceeding her. (I really must be going insane.)

“Ema?” Phoenix managed to blurt out as he came closer. His frown from losing his hat turned into a small smile. “...Ema, it’s been awhile.” 

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HELP A HOBO

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When Phoenix left the briefing room, for what had seemed like the one-hundredth time (it was really only the third), he took off his beanie and stuffed it into his pocket. The brunet, at this point, didn’t see too much reason to be miserable. He had been in this situation before. Nothing changed while he was gone from his real home.

He had to focus on the task at hand. At least he could go back to Ibuki’s house, because he was invited apparently. Unfortunately, he didn’t exactly remember where it was. 

He tried to find a map--something to navigate the area. He had been here so many times..and yet he failed to remember where to locate a map.

Looking around for someone sensible, he saw a man in a monocle. Shaking his head clear of Luke Atmey, he waved his hand up.

“Uh. Hey!” Phoenix said, coming towards the other male.

[ploratioi-blog]

How do you feel about Kristoph Gavin?

“…Pass.”

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I’m going to be memein’ today, but I will rip out starters too. Like this post if you’d like one!!

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NEW POSTS ^

ALL THREADS DROPPED

OLD POSTS V

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Phoenix was sure that the words the other said were definitely sarcastic, but he didn’t have time to hand down a swift rebuttal--because he was very embarrassed.

How could he have not recognized a priest? Sure he wasn’t a very religious person, but he should’ve noticed the man wearing the black attire...perhaps he was getting old. Or tired. Either way, he was flustered as he tilted his head down in apology.

“I-I’m sorry, Father. . . I didn’t notice your outfit at first. Haha--” he scratched the back of his neck, “perhaps the lack of sleep is really getting to me.” Phoenix put his hand out and introduced himself. After all, he couldn’t screw up any more.

“--Sorry again, Father. I’m Phoenix Wright. . .”

   “Hmm…perhaps a decade of not getting enough sleep would be enough to leave those kinds of marks. I can tell.” Without missing a beat, the towering priest simply shrugs his shoulders, giving a small shake of his head. If Kotomine was anything, he was a ‘people-person’ — as in, people were open books in his eyes. 

   “I am only wearing what a man of my denomination would wear. I am a priest, after all. Or are you not from a world which has priests…there are all sorts here, after all.”

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Phoenix sees Miles, but he does not call out. His head hurts when the silver gets caught in the line of his vision, because he remembers what had happened before they left--and almost happened if the Other Miles didn’t disappear. There were so many things wrong with this picture, because he was recovering, and now said progress would most likely skyrocket backwards.

The brunet does not frown, but his eyes look clouded. He can’t have eye contact with the one who is speaking now. Sure. He had two trips previously to Europe. . . and he saw Miles there. But that was different. Phoenix did not remember what was here and what was. 

He let out a small sigh. It seemed like this particular Miles knew something--which was better than nothing. Looking at the ground, and shoving his hands and hat into his pockets, Phoenix stays quiet for a little before replying.

“...I visited you in Europe. A few months back. I was showing you the outline for the Jurist System. It was the second time I visited you,” he fiddled with the hat inside his pocket, remembering the court system he was trying to recreate from long ago.

He had almost forgotten about his stresses.

“What about you...?” he said reluctantly. It sounded like this Miles was different from the last, but not the one he shared memories with. In the end...he was still Miles though, right? No matter where he came from. He was still always Edgeworth.

He looked up and said, “...I was working on the Jurist System, and I was almost finished. I fell asleep or something--and woke up here. Not the first time though, so I can lead you around if you need it.”

ploratioi

“Phoenix?”

The first name falls out automatically, he doesn’t give it much thought. Though he immediately realizes what he said and regrets it.

He hadn’t seen him for a while, though there had been the trips to Europe when he requested he came with him. It had only been two months since the end of the Jurist System Trial, yet with coming here it feels like a long time ago (even though he just arrived). 

Still, to see his childhood friend and former courtroom rival wearing the familiar beanie and sweatshirt and sweatpants, it hurts a bit. They hadn’t talked that much after the truth came out behind his disbarment, but he still felt guilty. He could’ve done something over those past seven years, anything to help, but he didn’t.

He shouldn’t be wallowing in his guilt right now, there was more important matters at hand. Like what had happened since they last saw each other. Or what they last remembered.

“It’s…been a while, hasn’t it Wright? Though, it might have been longer for you. Though we might not remember the same things, so if you’re alright with me asking, what is the last thing you remember before arriving here in the city?”