#chapter 1: investigation

[jrob64]

Ghosted

Chapter 1 - Hauntings

Here is the first chapter of my contribution for this year's Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. I have many people to thank for helping me get this written and posted by my assigned date.

Thank you to my fellow mods of CSSNS24 - @winterbaby89 @stahlop @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. I'm so glad we've had such a great response to this last event!

More thanks to Krystal for creating the absolutely amazing pic set for this story. It turned out great, didn't it? Making Neal and Liam appear ghostly was the handiwork of @motherkatereloyshipper, so she also deserves my appreciation.

Rounding out my list of thank yous is my ever-loyal beta, @hookedmom. I've been writing CS stories for nearly six years and she's been with me for the vast majority of them!

I anticipate this story being 3-4 chapters long in total. It isn't completely written yet, so unfortunately I can't provide a posting schedule, but I assure you it WILL be finished. If you're not on my tag list and would like to be informed when future chapters post, please let me know.

DISCLAIMER: All I know about ghost hunting is what I've watched on Ghost Adventures (which is worth watching simply for the entertainment factor.) I also know next to nothing about how YouTube works beyond being a viewer. Please excuse all errors and keep in mind that this is fanfic and isn't meant to be completely accurate!

SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Words (Chapter 1): 4700

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Juggling a large Americano and a blueberry scone, Emma Swan made a beeline across the coffee shop for the small table in the corner. Whenever she stopped in, she tried to sit there because it was beside the window and was only big enough for one chair. Even when the shop was crowded, no one could join her or bother her by asking if ‘this seat is taken’. She could be left alone, which was the way she preferred it in the mornings.

Taking a sip of the near-scalding beverage, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, savoring the aromatic flavor on her tongue. She tried not to make a habit of coming to this shop, but her coffee maker died over the weekend and she needed her shot of caffeine.

She was nibbling on the corner of her scone when she felt her phone vibrate with an incoming text. Pulling it out of the back pocket of her jeans, she saw that it was from her friend Ruby. The partial message on the lock screen said I’ve got huge news. Are you sitting down?

Emma huffed out a sound of amusement as she unlocked her phone. Ruby’s ‘huge’ news was probably that Graham Humbert, who worked at the police station where Ruby was the dispatcher, had switched to a different scent of cologne. Instead, her eyes widened as she read the rest of the message:

They found Neal Cassidy dead in his cell this morning. Apparent suicide. Guess you won’t have to worry about him stalking you again when he gets out.

It took her a few moments to digest the information. For nearly two years, thoughts of that man had never been far from the forefront of her mind. The memories of their blossoming romantic relationship, which were replaced by her suspicions and ultimate confirmation of his criminal activities, raced through her brain as she stared at the message for an inordinate amount of time.

When she finally started typing a response to Ruby, a shadow fell across the table, blocking the late morning sun. It didn’t move for several moments, so she glanced up, meaning to find the source of it on the other side of the window.

And looked directly into the eyes of Neal Cassidy.

Shocked beyond words, she squeezed her eyes closed, then blinked repeatedly before she looked up again, her heart hammering in her chest.

He was gone.

*********

Emma met Neal at a car dealership where he worked as a salesman. She was looking to trade in her yellow VW bug for something more reliable and he was eager to help. He was charming and funny, so when he asked her out on a date after the sale was made, she didn’t hesitate to accept.

They dated for six months before she started getting the feeling that he was selling more than cars. Hearing him have secretive one-sided conversations on the phone and seeing him meet shady looking characters in neighborhoods known to be frequented by crime lords made her suspicious, but the day she found a small bag of crack cocaine in his apartment was the day she was officially done with him.

When she broke it off, Neal begged her to stay, bragging about how he was in line to become very important and wealthy someday soon, and would provide her with everything her heart desired. Emma assured him she did not desire to be in the company of drug dealers and walked away, determined to put that chapter of her life behind her.

Having witnessed his sales techniques, she was well aware that he was persistent, but his persistence rapidly turned into obsession. She received dozens of texts from him every day, along with numerous calls she refused to answer. After listening to a few voicemails he left declaring his love for her, she deleted the rest and blocked his number.

That didn’t deter him, though. He continued showing up at her apartment, the gym where she worked out, and her place of employment - the swanky hotel where she tended bar. It was annoying, but she didn’t feel threatened and didn’t think a restraining order against him was necessary.

After several months of rebuffing or simply ignoring him, she was relieved when two days in a row went by without any contact from him. Then Ruby called to tell her he had been busted for drug trafficking and was awaiting a hearing. A trial followed, he was sentenced to five years in prison, and Emma hoped she had seen the last of Neal Cassidy.

*********

Emma dragged herself up the two flights of stairs to her apartment on wobbly legs. She was still trembling from the encounter at the coffee shop, unable to shake the image of her deceased ex-boyfriend from her mind.

She had finally managed to send Ruby a text, asking her if she had proof Neal was actually dead. Ruby replied that her friend Dorothy, who worked at the prison where Neal was serving his time, saw his body on the gurney as he was taken out, and talked to the guard who found him hanging by a bed sheet. He was definitely dead.

The only explanation Emma could come up with for seeing Neal outside the window was that the shock of reading Ruby’s text caused her to conjure an image of him. But that didn’t explain the feeling she had of being watched or followed all the way home, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

When she reached the third floor, she wasn’t surprised to see her friend and neighbor, Killian Jones, in the hallway between their two doors, fiddling with a metal box which was emitting a strange humming sound. As a paranormal investigator and the host of a popular YouTube channel called “Killian Jones - Ghost Hunter”, he was always trying out various pieces of equipment.

He glanced up, his striking blue eyes fastening on her before his face split into a grin. “Hey, Swan. How are you today?”

She answered vaguely as she stopped in front of her door. Suddenly, the humming sound increased in volume and pitch and Killian’s smile faded into a look of confusion. Picking up what looked like a radar gun laying beside him on the floor, he stood and held it between himself and Emma.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, too intent on circling her slowly and studying the numbers on the gadget. When he finally looked up several seconds later, he hesitantly commented, “Swan…it appears you have a…a ghost following you.”

Emma felt the blood drain from her face and her knees buckle, which was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.

Killian barely caught Emma in time to keep her from hitting the floor as she fainted. Hoisting her up into his arms, he carried her inside his apartment. This was not how he expected her to end up in his arms, but he would take what he could get.

*********

The two of them had lived beside each other ever since Killian moved into the apartment next to hers when he arrived in Boston five years ago. At first, they just exchanged pleasantries when they passed in the hall. After a few months, they began to have short conversations about the weather and their frustration with the landlord. That led to them doing favors for one another, such as taking in packages, bringing the other’s clothes upstairs from the laundry room, and picking up items one of them forgot to buy at the grocery store. Eventually, they built up enough trust in each other that they traded apartment keys to make it more convenient to drop things off.

Every once in a while, they would share a pizza while watching TV in one of their apartments. Seeing Emma so relaxed in her own home, laughing and bantering with him, started Killian down the road of developing deeper feelings toward her. He was enamored with her wit and intelligence and thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

At times, he witnessed men coming to her door to pick her up for a date, something that always left him feeling bereft. Fortunately, most of them never came around more than once. He enjoyed listening to her humorous assessments of each man’s shortcomings afterwards.

Then she started dating Neal Cassidy, and during those months, Killian hardly saw her. When he did bump into the couple, Neal treated him with disdain, looking down his nose at him and scoffing at everything Killian said. It was made worse by the fact that Emma didn’t even seem to notice. Killian was sure he had missed his chance of acting on his feelings for her.

He almost felt guilty for being ecstatic upon finding out she’d broken up with Neal. His happiness turned to concern and then anger when Emma told him Neal wouldn’t leave her alone. The two men had words several times when Killian found him hanging around in the hall outside her apartment. Then Emma told him Neal had been arrested and sent to prison, and he was beyond relieved that the idiot wouldn’t be bothering her anymore.

Still, Killian didn’t ask her out, reasoning that she’d just gotten out of a bad relationship. He continued to fall for her more and more, while she remained completely unaware of his burgeoning feelings toward her. Feelings that, by now, felt a lot like love.

*********

After laying her on his couch, Killian tapped Emma’s cheeks, urging, “Swan! Swan! Wake up! You have to wake up, Love.” When she didn’t respond, he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Bloody hell, Lass. I didn’t mean to frighten you that badly.”

He glanced around the living room, trying to figure out what to do to help Emma regain consciousness. Going into his kitchen, he took a clean dish towel out of the drawer, placed some ice cubes inside and while there, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

She was still out cold when he emerged a minute later. Concern etched his face. In all the years he lived next door to Emma Swan, he never knew her to be anything but tough and strong. Seeing her lying there so ashen and unmoving unnerved him. He lifted her head slightly to place the ice under her neck.

Convinced there was nothing more he could do at the moment, he went back out to the hallway and collected his EMF meter, noticing that it was back to a steady hum. Picking up the infrared thermometer he had dropped, he saw the temperature had returned to normal. No more cold spots. Apparently whatever spirit that had entered the hallway with Emma was gone.

Reentering his apartment, he sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa to keep vigil over his neighbor, continuing to pat her cheeks and call her name from time to time. After several more long minutes, her eyelids began to flutter, then slowly opened. Her eyes darted around, obviously trying to figure out where she was. He could tell the moment she figured it out, because she groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“Please tell me I didn’t faint,” she pleaded.

“I wish I could, but that would be untrue,” he responded, tilting his head to offer her a small, reassuring smile when she uncovered her eyes.

She started to sit up, but he put a hand to her shoulder to stop her. “Easy, Swan. Better lie still a bit longer.”

With a huff of annoyance, she laid back down, adjusting the ice pack behind her neck. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome.”

She lay quietly for a while, nibbling on her bottom lip. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why, uh…why did you say that I had a ghost with me?”

She was obviously trying to pass off the question as being simply one of curiosity, but the look in her eyes told him she was quite serious about it.

“The infrared thermometer showed a definite cold spot and the EMF detector…”

“EMF detector?” she questioned. “What’s that?”

He sighed in frustration. “Don’t you ever watch my videos, Swan?” No matter how many times he talked to her about his show, he could never get her to commit to watching his YouTube channel.

“You know I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said.

He rolled his eyes before explaining. “An EMF detector measures electromagnetic fields. A high reading indicates the presence of a spirit.” He paused, making sure he worded his next statement carefully. “And perhaps you had better rethink your position on ghosts, because my instruments strongly suggested paranormal activity around you.”

She closed her eyes and cursed. Killian picked up the bottle of water and held it out to her. She sat up and accepted it, taking a long drink as she propped her feet on the table beside him.

“Care to enlighten me as to why you fainted when I told you my findings?” he inquired.

Capping the bottle, she held it against her forehead for a minute or two - long enough for Killian to wonder if she was going to give him an answer. Finally, she looked up at him and murmured, “Do you remember Neal Cassidy?”

“The wanker who hung around outside your apartment for months after you broke up with him?”

“That’s the one. Did I tell you that he was sentenced to prison for drug trafficking?”

“Aye, you did.”

“Well, apparently he hung himself in his cell. They found his body this morning.”

Killian let out a low whistle. “You think it could be his spirit that was causing my instruments to spike?”

She looked down again, fiddling with the label on the water bottle. “Possibly…because…” She drew in a deep breath. “Because I saw him outside the coffee shop this morning,” she said on an exhale.

Trying not to overreact and make Emma even more uncomfortable, he swallowed hard. “Now, when you say you saw him…”

“I mean I saw him,” she emphasized. “My friend Ruby texted to tell me about Neal’s death and as I was in the process of answering her, I noticed this shadow that didn’t move outside the window where I was sitting. When I looked up, Neal was standing there, staring right at me. I blinked, then he was gone.”

Killian’s ‘ghost hunter’ mind was getting excited about the prospect of being able to investigate a spirit practically under his own nose, but his heart went out to her. Being haunted was something he was more or less used to, but he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“Did you see him again after that?” he asked.

“No, but I had this…feeling while I was walking home; like someone was watching me. It really freaked me out.”

“So when I told you there was a ghost following you…”

“It was lights out for me.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never fainted before.”

Killian reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “There’s no reason for embarrassment, Love. I’ve met many people who’ve had the exact same reaction when faced with the possibility of being in the presence of a ghost.”

“Seriously?”

He rubbed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his impatience. “If you watched my YouTube channel, you would be aware of that.”

“No offense, but the last thing I want to do right now is watch people being haunted.”

“That’s quite understandable, considering what you’ve been through today.”

She took another swig of water, then looked up at him. “Do you think he’s gone? Moved on, or whatever?”

Killian blew out a breath. “Probably not. My guess is he has unfinished business or he would have already moved on.”

“That’s just great,” Emma muttered sarcastically. “How long can I expect him to hang around?”

“Until he accomplishes what he needs to do.”

“So what am I supposed to do until then?” she moaned.

“Just go about your daily routine. If you see him or sense he’s there, gently tell him that he has died and needs to move on.”

 “So saying ‘go to hell’ wouldn’t be a wise choice?”

He bark laughed. “I’m not sure that would be very effective.”

She drained the rest of the water, set the empty bottle on the table and stood up. Killian stood too, placing his hand on the small of her back. “Alright there, Swan?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m gonna go get something to eat and take it easy this afternoon until I have to go to work.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” As she started toward the door, he added, “Uh, Emma? Could I ask a favor of you?”

She turned to look at him. “A favor for the guy who carried me into his apartment and took care of me when I fainted like a prissy debutante? Sure.”

“If, um, if Neal’s spirit does reappear, would you be opposed to letting me document it?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head in contemplation. “What would you do exactly?”

“Use equipment to detect paranormal activity and post it to my YouTube channel.”

“You mean that ESPN detector and stuff like that?”

He sighed in exasperation. “It’s EMF, Swan. Yes, that and voice recorders to conduct EVP sessions…”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Stop saying letters. You know I don’t know what that shit means.”

“Electronic voice phenomena sessions record sounds or voices from ghosts. If he’s trying to communicate with you, we might be able to pick it up on a voice recorder.”

Shrugging, she replied, “That’s fine. I’m sure it would get lots of hits for your channel.”

He stepped into her personal space, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I hope you know that’s not why I want to do this, Emma. My goal is to help you encourage him to move on so you will no longer have to deal with him. It’s bad enough he stalked you while he was alive; doing it after he’s dead is even worse.”

She gave a slight nod. “You’re right about that.” Pushing up to her toes, she brushed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks again for everything, Killian. If I get the feeling he’s back, I’ll call you right away.”

“Day or night, Swan. I’m at your beck and call.”

“Good to know,” she smirked. “I’ll see you later.”

He watched her walk out the door, reaching up to rub his cheek where she kissed him. He was going to have to do his best to remain professional around her, but potentially having Emma as his next subject was going to be quite the challenge.

*********

Emma entered her apartment, quickly flipped on the light switch, and glanced around nervously. Not seeing or sensing anything out of the ordinary, she moved into the kitchen.

After heating up leftovers and eating lunch, she climbed into her worn, comfy recliner to scroll through Hulu. She tried to concentrate on her selected show, but her eyes kept darting around the room. “Fuck you, Neal,” she muttered. “Making me paranoid in my own home.”

Finally giving up on watching TV, she went into her bedroom to select her clothes for work that evening. Then she decided to take a long, relaxing bath. The longer she soaked in the tub without any sign of Neal’s ghostly image, the more she relaxed.

By the time she left for work three hours later, she was nearly back to her normal self and very hopeful that he had indeed moved on.

*********

After Emma left his apartment, Killian tidied up - dumping the melting ice cubes into the sink, hanging the towel to dry, and throwing the empty water bottle into his recycling bin. Then he checked all of his ghost hunting equipment, setting the batteries to charge if they were a little low.

Plopping down on the couch, he pulled up the message app on his phone and clicked on the group text with his technical director, Belle French, and his assistant, Will Scarlett.

K: We may have a new gig right here in my apartment building.

As expected, he got an immediate response from Will. The man’s eyes were practically glued to his phone screen most of the time.

W: Got a haunter right under your nose, do ya?

Belle’s answer several minutes later was a little more refined.

B: Can you provide us with any details?

K: My neighbor’s ex-boyfriend committed suicide in prison and she’s experiencing some paranormal activity. She says she saw his ghost outside a coffee shop and when she got home, I was in the hall with the EMF meter and thermo. Both of them spiked.

B: Oh, wow! That’s incredible! Sad for the guy and your neighbor, but what an opportunity!

W: Is this neighbor the hot blonde you’ve been crushin’ on for years?

Killian dropped his head back and groaned. He should have known better than to have confessed his unrequited feelings to his assistant during a boring all-nighter in an old warehouse in Portland, Maine last year.

K: That’s a very crass way to put it, but yes, it’s Emma.

W: You mean we might actually get to meet her?

K: Not if you’re going to be an ass about it.

W: I’ll be on me best behavior, I promise.

K: Why doesn’t that reassure me?

B: What are your plans, Killian?

Leave it to Belle to be the peacemaker of the conversation, Killian thought. If he was feeling vengeful toward Will, he could mention the crush his friend had on the auburn-haired beauty. How she never realized it, Killian would never know. Will was the very definition of heart eyes whenever he was around her.

K: I’ve got my equipment ready to go. If she senses anything, she’s going to call me. If it’s a recurring thing, we’ll set up an EVP session. I’ll let you know if anything happens. Just wanted to put you on alert.

B: Sounds good. I’ll be editing tomorrow. The new episode should be ready to post by Thursday.

K: Thanks, Belle. You’re the best!

W: He’s right, ya know. You really are bloody brilliant.

Seriously - how could she not see it when Will was always falling all over himself to proclaim her perfection?

Once Killian ended the conversation, he wandered into the room he used as his office.

“Hello, little brother.”

*********

From a very early age, Killian had been able to sense paranormal activity. He was confused by it for many years, but as he grew and began to read about ghosts, he realized he had a gift, albeit an unwanted one.

When he was twelve, his mother passed and he was there to witness her soul departing her body. She only stayed long enough to declare her never-ending love for her boys and bid him goodbye, before she moved on to her eternal reward.

Eight years later, when Liam died in a naval training exercise, Killian expected him to join their mother. However, his brother’s apparition began appearing to him from time to time. At first, his appearance was simply a mist, barely recognizable, but as Killian did more research into the paranormal and practiced tapping into his abilities, it became more discernible. Still, he was frustrated that he could see his brother, but was unable to speak to him.

He purchased several pieces of equipment used by paranormal investigators, hoping to enhance his encounters with Liam. They turned out to be very helpful, but Liam soon learned to communicate with his brother well enough that the tools weren’t necessary.

On a whim, Killian posted videos of himself explaining the use of equipment to make contact with ghosts on YouTube, and soon he was in demand as a paranormal investigator. People were willing to pay large sums of money to be able to make contact with their departed loved ones, or to encourage ghosts to move on. He quit his job as a dock worker and began traveling, taking his friend Will along with him, and when the technical aspects of editing and posting to YouTube proved too daunting, he hired Belle.

Even his closest friends were unaware that Killian’s deceased brother appeared and spoke with him on a regular basis; he wanted to keep that part of his life to himself.

*********

It still startled Killian whenever the apparition of his brother appeared, but it wasn’t ever an unwelcome intrusion. His visits never lasted long, but there was always enough time for a nice chat.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten I’m a grown man and therefore your younger brother,” Killian reminded Liam, for at least the fiftieth time.

“I’m not sure that’s technically true any more, since you’ve now lived past the age I was when I died.”

Killian hated it when Liam talked about his own death. “You were born before me, so you’ll always be older.”

“Hmm…” Liam responded, giving his brother the maddening little nod that meant he was right and Killian was wrong. “So, the lovely lass you’re pining for was here today, aye?”

“How did you know that?” Killian asked unnecessarily. Obviously Liam had popped in and, being a tad preoccupied taking care of Emma, he hadn’t noticed.

“I’m not doing the job of watching over my little brother very well if I don’t know what’s going on in his life.”

Killian had never come right out and asked Liam about the unfinished business that kept him from moving on, but having been his guardian for years before his death, he was sure it was to continue taking care of him. Not that he needed it, but he wasn’t complaining, as long as he had a chance to have his older brother with him in some shape or form.

“She, uh…she fainted so I brought her in to lay her on my sofa. I couldn’t very well let her lay on the floor in the hallway.”

“What caused her to faint?” Liam asked, his playful tone giving way to concern.

“Seems she was visited by the ghost of her departed ex-boyfriend. You didn’t see him hanging around, did you?”

“You know spirits seldom bump into one another, unless they were associated with each other while they were living.”

“I just thought I would ask. It spooked her badly - no pun intended.”

“Have you agreed to help her?”

“Aye, if I can. The guy made her life miserable when he was alive. She shouldn’t have to put up with him after his death.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Perhaps this will give you a chance to get closer to her. Maybe you’ll even work up the nerve to finally ask her out.”

Killian sighed. “I’m not going to do that when she’s so vulnerable, Liam. I simply want to get the tosser to move on.”

“And after that?”

“I don’t know,” Killian conceded.

“You’ve had feelings for that lass for ages, Killy. When are you going to act on them?”

“I’m afraid she’s only ever going to think of me as a friend. If I ask her out and she turns me down, I might lose her friendship, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“You’ll never know unless you try.”

Killian didn’t answer. He’d had this conversation with his brother before and Liam always pushed him to ask Emma out. He didn’t understand why his love life was so important to his brother, but whenever he asked him, Liam was evasive and refused to answer.

“Just think about it, Killian. I have to go. I love you, Brother.”

“Love you, too, Liam.”

He watched his brother’s translucent form dissolve, leaving him sad and lonely, as always. He didn’t know when Liam would complete his unfinished business, but he did know that when he finally did, Killian would be left alone once again.

Unbeknownst to him, Liam’s unfinished business was to see his brother happily married to the love of his life, but it was up to Killian to take the first step.

*********

Thanks very much for reading. Be sure to check out the other great stories in the CSSNS24 collection!

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[pressurewhatpressure]

wait guys what the fuck is going on with quadrant

[review-anon]

You did the investigation? Thoughts and theories?

//As always my theories are below the cut.

//Another cutaway because Tumblr doesn’t like and spoilers ahead so READ ON IN PERIL.

//Wolfgang was 100% attacked with the rolling pin and then he was injected with some kind of drug to his neck. The prick on his neck looks a lot like where a needle would go. It would be easy to get the drop on him as Wolfgang trusted almost everyone so he didn’t really have a guard.

//Having said there, Wolfgang was certainly up to something because he outright lied to Grace about being sick. Especially as Toshiko caught him leaving his room and with Ingrid being her roommate she can back her up. Most likely he was going to the boiler room.

//Ingrid’s headache I think is important because it depends what Wolfgang was drugged with, recall that Jean smelled something in the boiler room, what if that messed with Ingrid’s head and made her have a headache.

//We also know the Not-Melee tournament and it’s blackout means the generator in the boiler room got busted. It’s not linked to the other areas since those in them areas didn’t report blackouts so it’s only the main building who’s power went out.

//I think the shrapnel has something with how the generator blew up and looking at the remains it looks to be a fire extinguisher which means Fire Extinguisher-Kun betrayed us and was used in a murder.

//Now the movements make it seem like the culprit but I don’t think so…I think someone else was locked into the boiler room with Wolfgang, since the door panel was changed, and well…if Wolfgang was injected with something…it depends what it was.

//It could be a sedative but normally people put them in the arms not the neck, but there were various chemicals, what if a hallucinogenic drug was used? Depending when Wolfgang was administered it, explains some of his strange behaviour since you aren’t gonna behave well if you are tripping balls.

//We also see a knife and yet it wasn’t used on Wolfgang, which makes me think he was the only who grabbed the knife and used it to attack someone. He either was as nasty as I thought he was, or he was tripping out and so wasn’t thinking rationally at all.

//So who did Wolfgang attack? Diana is my best bet as it can’t be someone from the Not-Melee Tournament and the only people in the building at the time were Diana, Ingrid and Toshiko. The last two were together the whole time so they can vouch for each other but Diana was not. Furthermore she seemed very flustered and panicked for some reason, even going as far as to try and get the culprit to confess before the trial. Of course she would be horrified if Wolfgang called her somewhere and attacked her out of nowhere.

//So Diana is the one who got attacked and bled and ran away, she was the footsteps the Tourney people heard, but does that make her the culprit? Not really as it wouldn’t explain the blackout and some other stuff, meaning she was more likely framed for the whole thing.

//So who’s my culprit pick? Well remember when I said I was sus of Eva? Yeah the investigation has strengthened my resolve since she was our investigation partner the whole time, which means she had every right to discredit and misdirect us. Plus she was the first person Damion met and since he rolled a Nat 1 in Persuasion in the Prologue and Wolfgang got everyone in the group to turn against him and Eva, the only person he bonded with. You could argue he and Kai are starting to get on but let’s be real, Kai didn’t enjoy being with us, and it was the fear of being killed in his sleep that made him keep us around. // “But Eva cannot be the culprit as she was at the game tourney” she was for most of it but I think she came there to give herself an alibi, as she never signed up for it which was sus, and when Damion and Kai were having their match a certain Mathetic wasn’t present in the CG at all, so I think while everyone was glued to the game, Eva snuck away to commit her murder and came back as soon as the blackout occurred. It was well…dark after all so she could easily do this, to give the illusion of her being with the tourney group all the time.

//And plus she was very insistent the rolling pin has nothing to do with the murder, and said there was no way for the culprit to bring it back but who investigated the storage closet the pin was found in to find the backup generator? Eva and Grace, so she could easily place that back.

//The final nail in the coffin is Wolfgang was probably lured out by a note saying the culprit has his blackmail, especially as Wolfgang did a David and said everyone should talk privately about their blackmail, and we know how well THAT goes. We know Damion has it but guess what? He told Eva it as well, so she could trick Wolfgang into think she has his blackmail.

//Now obviously the big question is motive. It could be Eva is pissed that Wolfgang ostracised her but I think it’s because she believes Wolfgang is not what he seems. Sure he acts affable and friendly to others but remember he’s the Ultimate Lawyer, and one with a very Ace Attorney like upbringing where he was a prodigy. Plus his blackmail featured his parents and the hint was that Wolfgang takes a lot after his father. We also know during the Mock Trial Wolfgang got very intense during it. But there’s another motive. The PIN lock which requires a 4 digit code. The others tried to solve it but failed, but guess what? Eva is the Ultimate Mathetic which means if anyone can solve the PIN code, it’s her. Maybe the plushie cost was the PIN code and going inside she discovered something that made her want to commit murder.

//Either way, this is gonna be a very intense Class Trial, as Damion is gonna be in the hard position to condemn someone who stood up for him but hey that’s Danganronpa for you.

[growling]

the growler, after all these years of endless torment, has finally been documented to have constructed a comprehensible and doable fanfic outline and has made, relatively to its species, a commendable amount of progress into starting to actually write it down. this is an exceptional accomplishment for it and frankly, it should be praised extensively for being so cool and awesome an

[seth-burroughs]

Ummmmm so there's this weird fucking creature in my backyard screeching pathetically and it won't leave??? Should I spray it down with the power hose

[rubberduckyrye]

A little late BUT I got my 2k done for the two-hours-ago yesterday :'D I'm still on track wooo!!!

[thefandomcassandra]

hallowed be thy unknown Ch5: Tokusatsu Haunting 1: Sea Bindweed and Sensitive Plant

Maya was getting a headache. Words swam in front of her eyes, black ants crawling across a white sand pit. She wanted to bury herself alive and sink into nothingness.

"Maya, c'mon now, answer me."

She groaned as Nick called to her, phasing through the kitchen table so he sort-of blocked her view of the offending textbook. "Why though?"

"Because you promised. We get through ten of these and you're free until lunchtime. You've got three more." He could cajole as much as he wanted, she wasn't going to like it any more even if he begged her.

"But it sucks and it's early and I've barely eaten and—"

"And this week's episode of Steel Samurai is on the DVR and if you finish this we can watch and you can explain to me why you like it after you've digested the story for an hour or so." Stubborn ass.

"Fine..." Maya blinked until the words on the paper resolved themselves into something readable. "So the difference between battery and assault is actually injuring someone or not. Assault is threatening, battery is attacking, but both can be charged as a felony if a firearm or other illegal weapon is used during the act."

"Larceny, burglary, and robbery?"

More terms. "Larceny is just theft—taking things from people. Grand or minor larceny based on how much was stolen, what have you. Burglary is forcing entry to a place and stealing, whether or not someone is there. Robbery is stealing using force, like mugging someone could be charged as either theft and assault or robbery depending on things, right?"

"If you're lucky and have a good defense or a bad prosecutor, yeah. It's usually charged as robbery since intent to harm while stealing is as good as causing harm while stealing. They don't differentiate between assault and battery where theft is concerned." Nick seemed amused that she had even thought about that. "One more and this one is easy: manslaughter and murder."

It sure was easy. "Murder requires intent to kill, whether planned or in the heat of the moment. Manslaughter is an act, violent or otherwise, that results in death, like a hit and run. Aren't they a little nebulous though?"

"Yeah. You can argue second-degree murder down to manslaughter, you can argue manslaughter caused through planned battery up to first-degree murder. It's all how you spin it and how the court views the actions taken. Self defense usually is manslaughter." He frowned as he thought something over. "But, again, it's a little wiggly, like you said."

"Which was bad for me and good for Prosecutor Edgeworth, not that he won..." Maya mumbled as she laid her head down on her arms. She could feel Nick's piercing gaze, the unspoken admonishment let to drift in the wind.

She'd done as was asked, hadn't she? Maya rolled her head so she could give Nick puppy-dog-eyes.

He snorted and floated down so he looked like he was sitting at the table with her. "That is all ten."

"So I can watch my taped episode?"

"Breakfast, dishes, then yes." Wow, thanks mom.

"I'm only doing this because you'll haunt me well into the night if I don't, mister incorporeal." Maya stood up and popped her back, sighing in amusement. Living with a ghost wasn't the most normal circumstances but after...everything, it was a welcome oddity. A comforting weirdness. Nick kept her in line, made sure she did all the proper adult things to keep up and running, and she kept him focused on the now with her company.

After the trial ended, it took a week or so before the Fey & Co. Law Office was cleared out and available as a working space again—after a very thorough cleaning courtesy of the state, of course. During that week or so, Maya tended to Mia's funeral and estate—nobody came to the former, she was the sole inheritor when it came to the latter. Getting access to Mia's apartment through her—Maya's now, really—landlord was a mess but she moved in as soon as she could and tried to not break down every time she opened a cabinet and saw Mia's coffee cups.

Barely a few days after everything was sorted and Maya had begun making the apartment more her living space than a museum to her sister, a call came in on the office line and Maya was summoned to testify in court in the case of the State v. Redd White.

Being on the witness stand was significantly different than being on the defendant's chair or in the defendant's bench. It was nerve-wracking, sure, but Prosecutor Edgeworth was somehow more tolerable when she wasn't the one in his crosshairs. It was almost amusing to watch the rich, well-to-do lawyer trip over their expensive brand name shoes to try and talk down the charges.

Maya's testimony, the pictures of her face taken after the trial, Gumshoe's corroboration, several anonymous (or redacted) reports of threats and blackmail, and April May's affidavit regarding her employment with Bluecorp and its inner working all dug him a one-way ticket to jail for life. If he was lucky, he'd never leave.

He looked defeated as they hauled him off to ship him from the center to the prison. Maya couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry for him.

Becoming an accredited defense attorney was the difficult part of the whole plan. Proving she had been homeschooled in what constituted as a traditional territory and providing proof of residency in Kurain was most of the legwork. With proof in hand, and permission from the Bar Association to take it out of season, the test was comically easy in comparison. Nobody needed to know she cheated, either! She was sworn in a few days ago and had even gone out and bought some new casual clothes to celebrate! She had real lawyer outfits that wouldn't get her stared at in the court!

Then she realized that being a defense attorney was a lot of waiting for someone to call your office to ask you to help them, instead of the more active lie she'd been believing. So most of her days were spent studying the well-worn law books Mia had in her office while Nick quizzed her to make sure she was retaining what she read. It was boring, for sure, but it was a new type of boring.

(Maya kept expecting Aunt Himiko to call but she never did. Neither did Pearl, but that was less Pearl's fault and more likely Aunt Himiko being a little controlling. Sometimes she got nauseatingly homesick and would leave Japanese dramas on TV in the background for the simple comfort of hearing people talk in Japanese. Nick always looked uncomfortable, like he wasn't sure how to handle her when she got like that but she wasn't something that needed to be handled, she just...needed a moment.)

Maya shoveled a spoonful of cereal in her mouth as she watched the Steel Samurai fight the Jade Turtle in his underwater palace. Despite how much she had been looking forward to this episode, her brain was still leaking out her ears. She couldn't focus on anything, even the things she liked.

Frustrated, Maya stopped the recording and threw on the news while she washed the dishes so Nick didn't complain all day. The weather looked like it was gonna be sunny for this time of year. That's nice.

Getting old snuck up on you, Maya determined. She had been living independently for a little over two months and she already cared about things like the weather. Yuck. Adding on worrying about bills and the idea that she had a commute to work now and she was seconds away from rapidly aging to dust.

Without cases coming in, Maya had to think about eventual second jobs—if things continued the way they were, that is. Like before, retail and customer service might not be good fits but they'd be easy to get. If she was going to work for minimum wage and maximum emotional distress, she'd like to work somewhere she doesn't hate but apparently Eldoon's wasn't hiring anyone since it was family-owned and her usual burger joint didn't need any more waitresses or hostesses.

Elbows-deep in bubbly warm water, Maya was startled out of her reverie by someone on TV saying the phrase 'Steel Samurai'. She tuned in on what the anchors were saying and was very glad she wasn't holding anything when she realized what was going on or she might've broken one of the nicer bowls.

The actor who played the Steel Samurai was just arrested for the murder of his coworker, the guy who played the Evil Magistrate. This had to be fate.

"Nick?!" One of the benefits to living alone was that she could openly talk to her ghost friend without worrying about someone staring. It didn't mean that her shouting across the apartment didn't startle him, however. Judging by the speed at which he flew through the bedroom wall, he must've thought she'd hurt herself or broken something. A fair assumption.

"What?" His blank eyes were wide, searching for whatever trouble she was in.

Maya waved at the TV. "Do you know what I heard?" When he didn't respond immediately, she continued, bouncing in place. "They arrested the Steel Samurai."

"The...character?" Nick seemed confused.

"The guy who plays him! They arrested him for murder!"

"Is that why you shrieked like you were dying?" Cute.

"No! No but like, Nick—" Was he not understanding what this meant? "—Nick he's in a holding cell right now! He's gonna need a lawyer!"

"Wh—Maya, this isn't some kind of game." He folded his arms and tilted himself so he was looking down his nose at her, stern. The whole effect was ruined by how he was dressed and it was undercut by the sharp spike of frustration that tore through Maya at his accusation.

"What makes you think I think it's a game?"

"I know you like the Steel Samurai but you've only been studying for a little while and—"

"Nick, I'm not playing. I'm accredited, aren't I?" Legally, yes. The technicality didn't matter much when she and Nick were a unit—a single lawyer. "And we haven't had a single client for the last month."

"Mia's clients were pretty sparse too—"

"Nick, I'm not Mia, I'm me. And I want to take this case." Maya made eye-contact with him and held it, an act he knew was a challenge. "I like the Steel Samurai, yeah, but I also want to help him. Don't I have the right to choose my clients too?"

Nick sighed and floated down a little bit so he was looking straight at her. "You're certain you want to do this?"

"Very."

"This is a murder case, like yours was. Do you think you can handle that?" He was being firm with her. He was almost never this firm. He was worried.

Could she handle a murder? She handled being on the stand for Redd White well enough. She hadn't broken down or cried or anything, had she? But defending someone for murder...that was a different beast.

She wanted to help him like his show had helped her. She nodded at Nick, who seemed to roll his thoughts around a bit before speaking again.

"In the chance that your client is guilty, what are you going to do?"

She hadn't thought about that. If he was guilty...would she still want to defend him? No, that wasn't the question. The question was: if he was guilty, what would she do, not would she continue to defend him. "I would try and work out a plea that satisfies both my client and the prosecution."

"And in the case that your client is innocent and you find yourself incapable of defending them properly?"

"I would suggest a different attorney and give all of my findings and documents to them." Because if she couldn't defend her client, she wanted her work to be worth something.

Nick closed his eyes for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again. "Okay." Approval. Yes! Before Maya could say anything in her excitement, he continued on. "But promise me you're going to be smarter about this one. No mouthing off to dangerous people this time. Gumshoe won't always be around to save you."

"Isn't he a homicide detective? He should be around."

"That's not the point. C'mon now, please?"

"Okay, okay." She wasn't sure why he was being so touchy about this. It's not like Redd White was going to kill her or anything. He was being a worrywart. "I promise I'll be safe."

"I'm serious. I might be around but I can't help if the problem is physical." He was still upset about the whole thing with Redd White then.

"I know." She did, really. She didn't blame him for his inability to interact with the physical world. It was part and parcel of being a ghost, after all. The fact that he was still around as a fuyūrei was nothing short of miraculous but miracles only went so far. Fate hadn't seen fit to make him a poltergeist. "I'll be smart."

That got a laugh out of him. "Sure you will." Even as he said it, however sarcastically, Maya could feel him relax. "Well the detention center opens at nine. That means we have two hours before we can see your Steel Samurai. Wanna finish the dishes and explain why you like it better than, say, Rainbow Warriors?"

Maya puffed her cheeks at him, pouting. "Rainbow Warriors is a show for babies and I will not have you slander the good streets of Neo Olde Tokyo with your bad taste." Even so, she continued on as she went back to the dishes, the tension dissipating, leaving behind anticipation.

Her first real client (maybe)! Her first not-herself client (possibly)! And it was the Steel Samurai! That was something to be proud of! She was gonna do great!

"I'm sorry..." Will Powers—the Steel Samurai actor—hunched in on himself and stared at a spot on the floor. For a man easily twice Maya's size, he sure was meek.

"Like I said before: it's no big deal. You never really appeared in public without the costume on so it was a surprise, nothing more." Maya waved her hand, trying to assuage his fears. He just whined a bit and hunched more in on himself.

Will Powers was somewhat of a Cowardly Lion sort, really. Despite his large size and intimidating stature, he tried to take up as little space as possible. He didn't like making eye-contact with Maya and barely spoke above a mumble. He was also barely older than Nick was when he died, which was the biggest shock—Will Powers looked very much like a man in his thirties but he was in his early twenties.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Nick muttered to himself, "but this certainly wasn't it."

"Powers-san," straight to business, no messing about for ol' Maya the Actual Lawyer™, "we've gotten a bit off-topic."

"Right."

"So you've been formally charged with the murder of your coworker, Jack Hammer, correct?" Nick had made sure she knew what Will Powers had been arrested for before they arrived at the detention center. Turns out, rote memorization of law did, in fact, carry over to a better short term memory recall. Who knew?

Will Powers nodded, his eyes swimming with tears. "But I didn't do it! I was napping at the time of the murder!"

"The problem, Powers-san, is that you have no alibi past your word." In her peripheral, Nick nodded at her in agreement. "That, unfortunately, won't fly in court." Not with the way the legal system was currently structured, or so Nick said.

"I know." He sounded defeated before the trial had even begun. "What else do I even have to offer? Apparently someone saw me out and about, even though I was sleeping in my dressing room!"

"Well, if you accept my services, then I would go investigate the crime scene and collect evidence to prove your innocence." Will Powers hadn't quite hired Maya yet but she was hopeful. That's part of why she was trying so hard to sound professional about it. Nobody would hire some kid but if she sounded like she knew what she was doing, then her age wouldn't matter.

Will Powers mulled over her offer, his brow furrowing while he pondered. When your life was on the line, rash decisions were a bad idea and he seemed like he was a cautious man to begin with. She didn't expect him to have an answer immediately but the fact that he hadn't been too bothered by her age when he was told a lawyer was here for him did wonders for her ego.

"He says he was asleep but someone saw him? That's strange." Nick was already running over the facts aloud, sitting cross-legged in the air while they waited for Will Powers to come to a conclusion. "An eyewitness account is damning but also it's a movie and TV set, isn't it? Costumes can't be hard to get duplicates of and wear around to falsify someone's position, can they?"

The Steel Samurai costume was a heavy number with a full mask. Most actors didn't like or were incapable of properly moving in costumes like that without extensive training, which is why the fact that Will Powers and Jack Hammer did their own stunts and fights was so fascinating. Sure, someone could steal a costume and wear it, but it'd be a heavy and claustrophobic thing tailored for a man of Will Powers' build and strength.

"Okay."

Maya's focus snapped to Will Powers. Wait...had he—? "Huh?"

"I'll hire you. You - you came to me, chose to believe in me with no proof. That's...even if you are a fan that's, uh, that means a lot." Despite the fact that he seemed so sure of his decision, Will Powers was still mumbling and muttering, his speech soft and unclear. But he had! He was hiring her! "So I'll be, uh, taking your services...after...all..."

"You won't regret it, Powers-san!" Maya almost leapt out of her chair. The larger man flinched back and Maya withdrew a bit so she wasn't upsetting him and pulled the paperwork for representation out of her sash. "If you could sign this after reading, I'll file this with the court and get to investigating right away."

Will Powers looked over the paperwork and quickly signed on the dotted line, sliding it back to her through the slot in the glass. "Th-thank you for this."

"Of course!" Maya beamed. That bolstered his spirits, it seemed, as he responded with an equally bright grin. "I'll keep you updated and, in the chance that I'm unable to come by again before visiting hours are over, we can discuss the details before your trial tomorrow. It's gonna be fine, Powers-san, I promise."

The smile he gave her felt tired but sincere. "Is there anything else I can - I can help you with?"

"Could I have your memory of the day of the murder?" Making sure she knew what his alibi was, how he remembers things, would be the base on which she builds her defense for him.

"Well, um, Hammer and I did a run-through of some of the action sequences starting around ten in the morning 'till noon. The usual type of, uh, work. After that, there was lunch and I guess I was more tired than I thought because while there was a rehearsal at five, I woke up too late to attend." He fiddled with his jacket sleeve, picking at a loose thread as he tried to organize his thoughts. It's not like being on that side of the visitor's glass was easy. Maya would know. "When I walked out, tripping over myself to try and attend rehearsal, they just...arrested me. I didn't find out Hammer had been killed until questioning."

Maya watched as Will Powers' face went blotchy, tears spilling down his cheeks as he tried to fight his emotions. He scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve, sniffling hard. Her heart went out to him; this wasn't easy for anyone, let alone the defendant of a murder case. The accused.

"They probably weren't nice about it either, were they?" Could he tell she was sympathizing with him? Could he tell she had been in his place only a month before?

A loud, snotty inhale and weak nod. "They ac-accused me of stabbing him!" His breathing was shuddering and slow as he tried to get himself calmed.

Maya caught Nick's eye. "You should ask more about the victim." She should. Knowing that might shed light on motive—or lack thereof.

"What was your relationship with Jack Hammer?"

That seemed to touch a weird nerve. Will Powers flinched a little and went back to staring at the floor, sniffling as he tried to get his emotions under control. "Jack and I...we weren't friends but - but I didn't hate him. Nobody did. We - we all mostly felt bad for him, considering..."

"Considering?" What did celebrity gossip have to do with this murder case?

"Well, I mean, before his role as the Evil Magistrate, he was a big action hero." A starstruck smile split Will Powers' face as he recounted his coworker's portfolio. "He's always worked for Global Studios—he's the most senior person there aside from the producer—but he never seemed...happy with his role? I dunno why he stayed."

"And you didn't get along?" The important part was whether or not her client had a motive.

"No, we got along fine. We never - never really interacted outside of a professional setting, is all..."

Nick hummed in thought. "So no direct conflict."

"Was there anyone who might have had an issue with Jack Hammer?" Maya pressed.

"Not anyone who'd kill him! He was Global Studio's darling!" Will Powers was affronted, raising his voice for the first time since she'd started talking with him. He was angry, not on his behalf, but on the behalf of someone else. Hm...

"Just checking! Thanks for your time." She waved her hand, clearing the air a bit, and gave Will Powers a soft smile. "See you later, Powers-san."

"Yeah, uh, um, bye."

Paperwork in hand, Maya felt light as a feather. Her first case—first real case—and she was defending the Steel Samurai! What a rush!

"You seem in high spirits." Nick laughed from his spot above her shoulder.

"Ha ha," Maya replied under her breath. "Very funny."

"No, but really: you look excited. Ready to do an investigation out of cuffs?"

"I'm ready to prove it wasn't just a flash in a pan, yknow?" The thought put some pep in her step. "Murder case or otherwise."

"Thoughts?"

"He didn't do it."

"You sound sure of yourself."

Maya fixed him with a flat stare. "Nick, did you see him? He could barely talk to me and I'm five foot two. Solid foot shorter than him. I'm certain he couldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill a man he worked with."

Something weird crossed his face for a second but he didn't say anything else on the matter. Instead, he shrugged and asked, "So where to?"

"After I drop off this form? Global Studios. It should be closed to the public, right?" He confirmed with a soft nod so she continued. "Investigate the crime scene, talk to employees of Global Studios, try and see what the timeframe looked like, what have you. Unlike last time, we weren't there the day of the murder so we have to start from nothing." She was excited. It was like solving a puzzle.

"Don't get cocky."

"Me? Never." She laughed. He laughed too.

"You're so certain they'll let you investigate."

"Weren't you the one who taught me that, while the police don't work directly with the defense, all attorneys are afforded access to the crime scene? They can't tell me no." She paid attention to his lessons, no matter how much he insisted she didn't.

"Touché." He laughed again.

She was so excited. ——— "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: no lookie-loos allowed on the premises at this time! There's been an incident and everything is shut down for all the adults and that means you kids can't just waltz in here with your big ol' eyes all pouting and just say 'well I was told that I could—' no you weren't! I'm head of security and if you were told you could do this, that, or the other, I'd be the first one told. We've already got this place swarming with the force and I've run out of donuts but overall I just can't handle some third party being introduced just to cause me grief! After all, I'm already grieving my poor Hammer—"

"Ma'am!" Maya finally managed to get a word in edgewise. The old security woman huffed, breathing heavily as she glared at Maya but she didn't care. She just wanted to take advantage of the silence. "I have proof of representation. I'm asking to be allowed in because I'm Will Powers' lawyer."

The security woman held out a bony hand and Maya handed her a copy of the filed paperwork. Her eyes darted over the fine print and caught on Will Powers' signature, face twisting like she ate something off. "Hmph." The paper was unceremoniously shoved back into Maya's hands. "Why didn't ya just say so, girlie?"

"Because you wouldn't shut up."

Maya swallowed a giggle at Nick's comment and managed a very level, "I didn't have a chance to when I first arrived."

Global Studios was a moderately well-known film studio but it wasn't large by any means. The whole campus was composed of about three large buildings—two areas used for filming and one employee area that contained the prop and costume departments as well as the break rooms and dressing rooms—and was around an hour long round walk if you didn't sightsee. When Maya had gotten off the bus, the first thing she did was grab a pamphlet with the layout of the whole campus on it and study it, trying to mark her path of action. That's when the security woman—Oldbag, if her name-tag wasn't some kind of cruel joke—power-walked over and started scolding her.

She knew she looked young and all—she was only seventeen—but Maya had hoped her wardrobe upgrade would make people take her more seriously. She'd exchanged her kimono from Kurain for a dress blouse and a long skirt, keeping her sash so she could have extra storage space for evidence. Her tall traditional sandals were exchanged for cute flats that had thin leather straps she could tie like laces up her ankles. She even had swapped her three-quarters-sleeve shrug for a suit jacket in her favorite shade of lavender where she pinned her attorney's badge to the lapel! She looked the part of a lawyer now and yet...Oldbag had assumed she was some meddlesome kid.

"If it's any consolation, I think anyone younger than the dinosaurs is a kid to her." It wasn't a consolation but the mean little joke did make her feel a little better.

"Well you should learn to speak up!" Oldbag looked down her nose at Maya. "And get a name-tag or a sign or something so well-meaning people doing their job don't mistake you for a loitering hooligan!"

This woman, Maya realized, was going to be a bit of a headache to deal with in casual conversation. Heaven forbid she be put on the witness stand.

"Sorry, Oldbag-san." Maya bowed to her, more out of obligation than anything else. The older woman preened under her respectful manners. Nice to know she had an easy way to butter her up. "Before I go into the studio and look around, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the incident and involved parties?"

"So we don't have to come back later, I assume?" Nick asked. Maya didn't need to answer him. He'd gotten it in one.

"Of course, ask away! Just make it quick."

Deep inhale, exhale. She's not even a witness. She's just a busy old woman. She's not that scary.

"What were you doing at the time of the murder?" Concise and simple, so Oldbag couldn't take it and run.

Oldbag scoffed. "My job of course!"

"Which is?"

"Is it a lawyer's job to ask stupid questions or is it just the job of the young ones? Maybe I'm in the wrong profession if you get paid big for bothering hardworking women like me." Thankfully this rant didn't go on too long. Oldbag sniffed and straightened her jumpsuit's collar, motioning with her hands as she talked. "I'm head of security. My job is to sit here and monitor who goes in and out, keep an eye on the cameras, and prevent snotty little brats from trying to get free photos or tours." On and on like a runaway train of thought.

"I'd bet whatever money that was in my pockets when I died that the age demographic for a B&E at Global Studios is an inverse bell graph." Nick snickered and, when Maya furrowed her brows to silently ask for an elaboration, added on, "Well, Steel Samurai is a children's show and Jack Hammer is an old action film star, not much someone in the teens-to-late-twenties age range would be into." Ah. That made Maya a statistical anomaly. Neat!

Maya tuned back in to the conversation in time to hear Oldbag finish her explanation with, "—and if I find one more candy wrapper in the woods I will personally turn whatever little shit that littered into a rubbish bin."

Maya nodded at Oldbag and gave her an appeasing, if not vapid, smile. "Thank you for telling me all that, Oldbag-san."

"You did ask." If she was pleased, it was hard to tell by tone alone. She had a very dry way of speaking and her volume and speed made it difficult to figure out if she was genuinely angry or just passionate. "Anything else or can I get back to it?"

"Uh..." What else? "You've been here a while? With Global Studios, I mean."

"Almost ten years, yeah." Oh wow. Oldbag must've seen the stars in her eyes because she smirked before continuing. "I've been here since the studio was doing the mid-stage Samurai films."

"That's dedicated." Genuinely, keeping a security gig—any job, really—for a decade wasn't anything to sneeze at. "You must've seen a lot of talent come and go."

"Oh more than you'd expect." The key to getting her to talk, it seemed, was buttering her up. Or just asking her the right questions. "I remember when Vasquez was a production assistant and Manella was a sweaty dork getting cease and desist paperwork from the local talent."

The idea of the lead show-writer Sal Manella being just some fan was actually fascinating but it wasn't a story Maya wanted to get from the long-winded Oldbag. "What's your thoughts on Will Powers?"

"Oh he's guilty for sure." Succinct. Maya took a breath to ask another question but Oldbag cut her off, continuing her once-complete thought. "I mean, really, the big lug is so ugly he can't even show his face in public and dear Hammer was always a handsome fella, even in his younger years. Powers was jealous, of course, and it's not like anyone had the raw acting talent of my Hammer but really, killing him? The man had seniority and you just stab him with a broken prop? What a petty boy. When I was his age I would've gotten my shit rocked if I so much as looked crossways at someone with more seniority than me at work, let alone attacked and or killed them. But really—"

"I'm starting to think Oldbag actually is her name, in some kind of horrible ironic twist." Maya grimaced in agreement as Nick started rifling through the security office to kill time. "Imagine growing up with the surname Oldbag and then you manage to hit your fifties and you are a certified old person. Like the oldest person to ever old person."

He really needed to stop talking while Oldbag was rambling. Maya had long-since lost track of what she was saying, silently praying for her to stop talking so she could press for info about Hammer, since she liked him so much.

"—anyway, that's neither here nor there." Finally. Finally she's finished.

Maya took a second to gather her thoughts before trying to talk again. The woman was a minefield of conversation. One misplaced word would set her off on a tirade. What did she absolutely need to know? What was worth braving the rapids to learn? Well, obviously it would be the victim. "One last thing, if you don't mind?" Please don't mind. Please, please don't mind.

"If that's really all, then sure."

"You said you're a huge fan of Jack Hammer, right? I used to watch his movies a lot—I think I have the collector's edition box set of the Samurai series, honestly. But what's your personal thoughts on the actor himself? You must've worked closely with him, right?" That was the right thing to ask about. Oldbag's face lit up and stars filled her eyes.

"Oh, poor dear Hammer." She sounded like a teenager talking about her prom date. "It's unfair, I tell you, what Global Studios was doing to him."

"Huh?" Even Nick seemed interested in what she had to say now.

"Well, y'know, my Hammer was a big star so many years ago. He's actually one of the oldest members of cast and crew here in Global Studio. Seniority aside, however, they're just not paying him like they used to—as if degrading him by making him act in that good-for-nothing children's nonsense as a villain no less and—"

"The main villain actor wasn't being paid well?" That was news. The Evil Magistrate was actually one of the favored villains in Steel Samurai—not Maya's, mind you, but that's because she had refined taste—and he was The Villain so why—?

Oldbag huffed and rolled her eyes. She seemed as incised as Maya was about the idea. "Not in the slightest! For some un-god-known reason, the bigwigs thought to reward his years of dedication with a costume that hides his pretty face and peanuts on the dollar, which means he was working doubles and triples and even picked up a second job to make ends meet and isn't that just so sad? That in this day and age, men of his talent are forced to scrape the ground for pennies? A shame, I tell you. A right shame!"

"That is weird." Brow furrowed, deep in thought, Maya rolled the concept around. A big name star paid pittance for a long running role in a company he's got seniority in. Who would kill a man like that? It's a reverse-motive, really. Anti-motive?

"In the end, how much he got paid doesn't matter now. They don't pay you in heaven." Tears shone in her eyes as she spoke fondly of the dead man. She really did actually miss him. Huh...

Maya bowed. "Thank you for your assistance, Oldbag-san. And for answering my questions."

"Hrmph. If every lawyer was as polite as you, I think the world would be a slightly better place!"

"If every lawyer was like Maya, she'd be out of a job. Dime-a-dozen attorneys don't get noticed." Nick's little comment got him a stern look, not that he seemed to mind much.

Maya sidled by Oldbag and entered onto the Global Studios campus proper, the pamphlet still clutched in her fist. Immediately there was a decision she had to make: go to the crime scene or visit the employee area. Try and find more information about the victim or verify her client's alibi.

Before she could actually make that decision, however, she heard someone jogging up alongside her. Heavy footsteps and heavy breathing. Nick hadn't said anything so they were likely someone they knew already; someone safe.

"Why am I not surprised you're takin' this case, pal?"

"Gumshoe!" Maya wheeled about and gave the detective a wide, genuine grin. He returned her smile with one of his own as she continued with, "Why am I not surprised you're here?"

"I am lead homicide detective for the precinct. It's kinda' my job and all." He scratched at the back of his head, bashful all of a sudden.

"He missed you, I'd assume," Nick offered. He was probably right. During the transition period, when she was handling Mia's estate, she had received a clumsily made bento and a card offering condolences from him. While he couldn't be there personally due to work hours picking up and his pay going down—which on the card was just written as 'extenuating circumstances'—he wanted to show her kindness the way most people did when it came to someone grieving a loss.

(The bento tasted great, even if it was mostly rice and hot dogs.)

"How goes the investigation?"

"You representin' Powers?" He asked a question instead of answering hers.

"Yeah? I mean...I am a defense attorney now. See?" Maya flashed the badge on her lapel, grinning up at him with all of her. It truly was a mark of pride. Like her sister, she was a bonafide lawyer!

Gumshoe leaned forward, squinting a bit, but the smile he gave her was proud and sincere and filled her chest with warmth. "Yeah! I heard. Prosecutor Edgeworth said his sister was furious about some girl from nowhere gettin' a cultural pass on the Bar. Said she was considerin' flyin' down from Germany to see what the fuss was about. From his side of the phone call, sounded like he warded her off, which is good coz just talkin' to her made him sweat. That made me worry."

Anyone who made Prosecutor Edgeworth uncomfortable was a friend of Maya's. She filed that information away for later.

"Sister?" Apparently Phoenix was unaware. Odd. He knew almost everything about the man, if his starry-eyed proselytization on the virtues of the Demon Prosecutor were anything to go by.

Because she didn't care about Prosecutor Edgeworth in the slightest, Maya chose to ignore the comment about him having a sister. "So how's the investigation going?"

Gumshoe sighed and picked at the bandage on his cheek. It was a new one, different from the last time she saw him, but was in the same place as before. Maybe he was just clumsy? "Could be better, could be worse. Nice to see you out and about without cuffs on. How's that feel?"

She beamed. "Feels way better than last time!" It really did. The cuffs didn't restrict her movement too much but being able to go places without an escort was nice. Freeing. She felt in control of things. "Plus I got to pick my clients. I chose Will Powers!"

"You like the Steel Samurai too, pal?"

"Too?"

Gumshoe covered his mouth and quickly looked anywhere but at Maya. As she tried to get him to focus on her again, she heard Nick full-body laughing about it. "Forget I said anything."

Oh, she won't be forgetting that any time soon, but she didn't want to make him sad. A sad Gumshoe wouldn't be any fun. So she placed her hand over her heart, her magatama cold beneath her fingers, and gave him a solemn nod. "Alright. My lips are sealed."

Gumshoe relaxed. Exhaled. Stood back upright. "Thanks." He seemed actually relieved. "Anyway, uh, what were we talkin' about again?"

"The investigation?"

"The investigation." He pursed his lips, the effort of organizing his thoughts obvious on his face. "It's lookin' pretty cut-and-dry. Only person unaccounted for was Powers, we got a picture of him goin' from the employee area to Studio One, the Samurai Spear was run through the poor victim, and that's that."

"My client says that, from around noon to five in the afternoon, he was asleep in the employee area." She did her best to reign in her bite. This was Gumshoe. He was nice. She didn't need to be aggressive with him.

"Your client was caught on camera, like I said." Gumshoe pointed over her shoulder at something. "There's security cameras that take still shots every time someone passes by. We got a copy of the one he's in." He rifled through his pockets and pulled out a black and white print with something written on the back, presenting it for Maya to take. "You can keep this one. I can get another, all I gotta do is ask nicely."

"I think Gumshoe might be one of the only good cops in existence."

"Thanks!" Maya gave the photo a quick look. It was the Steel Samurai, spear and all, wandering towards something. Judging by the camera angle, it wasn't the employee area, it was one of the studio lots. But it wasn't definitively Will Powers, it was just someone in the Steel Samurai costume.

Gumshoe must've seen the look on her face, the pensive way her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out what the deal was, because he also pulled out a piece of paper from a different pocket. "Autopsy report too. Up to date this time." He had the decency to be embarrassed about that.

"Glad to hear it." The photo print was folded into simple quarters and shoved into her sash as she looked over the report.

Victim: Jack Hammer (37, Male) Time of death: 10/15 at 2:30 PM. Cause: Pierced through the chest by a spear.

"They're so sure of the murder weapon, aren't they?" Nick mused.

"The, uh, coroner is certain that the murder weapon is the Samurai Spear?" That was the right word for the person who does autopsies for the police, right? Coroner?

"It was in his body, if you'll mind the graphic description." As if he just remembered he was talking to someone her age, Gumshoe curbed his language a bit.

"The autopsy says 'pierced through the chest'. Talking about it won't make me upset." Maya puffed her cheeks and frowned up at Gumshoe, who broke eye-contact again. The power she wielded over this man is amazing. "Besides: I need to understand what's going on to properly represent my client, don't I?"

"Yeah...I guess you do."

"So there's a security camera up here," Nick called from where he was floating. He was by the welcome arch, studying the camera intently. "Number ST1-307, it looks like? That might be what we needed if we wanted to pull a copy of the photo ourselves. It's a good thing Gumshoe is so nice to us." Even in the middle of an investigation, Nick was already running his mouth. He forgets, or so he says, that Maya can hear him. He's too used to thinking aloud, apparently.

It's still comforting, even if it isn't always helpful. It meant someone was there. It reminded her that she wasn't alone.

"Well aside from the autopsy report and picture, I don't have much of any use to you I don't think. The security lady was more helpful than we thought but there were only a handful of employees there the day of, so we talked to 'em, looked around, and now we're takin' a comb to the woods on campus."

"Oldbag was helpful?" It's not like she was unhelpful when Maya talked to her, just...hard to talk to.

"She gave us donuts and coffee too! Which was good coz my wallet is gettin' a little empty." Poor Gumshoe. Apparently being a homicide detective didn't pay well. "But she gave us the photo, gave us her testimony, and even offered to come to court tomorrow!"

"Joy." She was going to have to cross-examine Oldbag. Yippee.

"Yeah, I think Prosecutor Edgeworth wasn't too keen on it neither."

"Of course he's prosecuting this one." He is a huge Steel Samurai fan, after all.

"He asked for it specifically, actually. That's the third one in so many months." Was that odd? Defense attorneys picked their cases for the most part. Was it different for prosecutors? "The first one was your case, the second was Mr. White, the third is this one. Usually he takes whatever Miss Chief Lana gives him or whatever his mentor thinks would look good. He doesn't have an opinion about cases so long as he gets his verdict, y'know?"

"I'm sure." If he—or Nick—heard her irritation, neither said a word about it. "I didn't know that was odd for prosecutors. Picking cases, I mean."

"It's not unheard of," Gumshoe clarified, "just unusual. Especially for him."

"Is Oldbag the only witness you have?"

"Now I can't tell you all Prosecutor Edgeworth's secrets, pal!" He laughed at her attempt to change the topic.

"Not even for me?" How far could she push him if she made the saddest face possible?

"You're an attorney, aren't you? Do attorney things! You're smart." Not very. Ah well, it was all in good fun. "Can't sell Prosecutor Edgeworth up the river or he'll dock my pay."

"Fair enough. Fair enough."

Nick had drifted over to what appeared to be a very large statue of a monkey with a top-knot that had fallen over and was busy inspecting that—but not so busy to not smile fondly about her antics.

"Studio One—the place where the murder took place—is technically closed off to everyone but the police but I left the door open for you. Don't tell Prosecutor Edgeworth though, okay pal?" That was becoming Gumshoe's catchphrase. Don't tell Prosecutor Edgeworth.

To be fair: she wasn't going to. It was really nice having someone on the inside. Made her feel powerful.

"You know I won't."

"Thanks, pal." Gumshoe scratched the back of his neck. "I, uh, gotta get back to work and all but hope your investigation goes well."

"Me too! Oh!" Her exclamation caused him to stop his slow, sheepish retreat towards the woods on campus. "Where do I go to give you back your bento box? It was really good."

Something strangely bright, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time in their life, bloomed on his face. His hesitant expression was replaced with a bashful smile and he ducked his head down. "Oh, uh, you don't need to return the box or nuthin'. I have a million of 'em just sitting around from an old job I had. I'm just glad you liked it."

"It was really good food, Gumshoe. I needed that." It wasn't a tradition in Kurain but she knew the importance of it anyway, judging by how Nick had spent minutes staring at the bento like it was an offering on an altar. "I just don't want to keep the box if you don't have a lot. I've got enough myself."

"No, no, like I said: I got plenty, pal." Resolute and firm, Gumshoe refused a second time. "It's just a clear disposable container anyway. Nuthin' special."

Alright. "Okay then. Maybe we can get lunch or something after this case is done with. My treat?" She'd always wanted to say that.

He blanched and blushed, the colors rapidly cycling like Christmas lights. "I - I couldn't!"

"I insist."

"But—"

"Gumshoe, c'mon! Let me use my paycheck for something other than clothes and bills! Please? Being independent sucks because it's no fun!"

Gumshoe crumpled like a bad house of cards. "Fine. You got a place in mind?"

"Burger joint I'm a regular at. Me and Mia went every time I came around." Against all odds, mentioning Mia in this context didn't hurt. It's not as if the grief was any smaller, just that talking about her habits and little idiosyncrasies didn't feel like she was cracking her ribs open like an oyster shell.

(It was different compared to the mundane emptiness of missing her, the agonies of wanting to make a joke at her expense and her not being there. Telling people 'my sister did this or that' was a statement, a simple fact. Every inch of her apartment was a minefield but work, at a murder scene no less, was safe for some reason. Grief was a persistence predator. Work was a steady clip to keep her ahead. She'd go home and be caught in its jaws but for now she would take the yearning in place of vacuous loss.)

Gumshoe's expression softened. It was something between pity and understanding, sympathy and empathy. He had to be holding himself back from reaching out to comfort her. Otherwise, why would he look like that? "Sounds good."

She didn't try to keep him there, trapped in a conversation going nowhere. They were both adults! They both had jobs to do—even if it was a novel concept even now. "Good luck!"

Maya turned on her heels and walked to where Phoenix was poking around by the fork in the pathway, trying her best to not run away from the weird emotions nipping at her heels. To keep her hands busy, she folded Hammer's autopsy like she'd done to Mia's and put it in the inside breast pocket of her new jacket. Nick was inside the severed head of the monkey mascot, whatever he might have been saying echoing inside the plaster or concrete of the head.

Maya knocked her hand against the head, wincing at the flash of pain that spattered starbursts across her knuckles. Concrete. Ow. "Nick? Gumshoe left."

"Okay?" If she wasn't used to seeing him half-inside of objects, she might have lost it at the comedy of his head resting on top of the concrete—and probably rebar among other things—monkey head. "Get anything good?"

"Nothing you didn't see. Oh, but he did say that I had his permission to poke around the crime scene, so long as I didn't tell Prosecutor Edgeworth." She leaned against the monkey head. "So what'd you find out inside that?"

"Well, it's a clock, for one." Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on the sign it's body was holding that directed people to the studio lots. "You wouldn't be able to tell unless it was working or if you were inside it."

"Please don't let this be the actual murder weapon." It was only a joke but, between what she'd learned about the Thinker clock and Mia's death, she wasn't taking any chances.

Nick might've understood what she was getting at but he still managed to sound almost put-off as he replied. "Unless the top-knot of this monkey is secretly a bladed weapon, I think we've finally broken our weird clock-as-murder-weapon streak. It's a digital clock, same as the Thinker, and also it looks too heavy for a person to lift without assistance."

Maya crouched, dug her fingers under the chin of the monkey, and tried to lift it.

When she gave up, face a brilliant scarlet, ears ringing for the effort, Nick was giggling. "Like I said."

"Okay, digital clock, super heavy, anything else?"

If he cared that she was pouting at him, he didn't show it. "Well it took out a tree and blocked this whole path here." He gestured with one hand at the pathway leading to Studio Two. The dense foliage and concrete monkey's head made it impossible for her to see farther down the pathway. Even the railings on either side of the paths were crumpled like tinfoil beneath the weight of them both. "So it's unlikely that anyone was going to or from that studio during the time it was down."

"Do you have a way to know when that was?"

"Ask Oldbag." Yeah, she was afraid of that.

"Anything else?" The way Nick was grinning at her made her think the answer was 'no'. "Guess we'll never know."

"Coward."

"I value my time." Maya looked at the sign directing people to the two studio lots. Studio One, where the murder took place. Studio Two, likely cut off from the rest of the campus by any conventional means. The employee area, where Will Powers was taking a nap. A photograph showing the Steel Samurai heading towards the studio lots from the employee area at two pm.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She startled when he spoke, glaring daggers up at him. "I was thinking about the security photograph."

"What about it?"

"It was from that camera, right?" She indicated the camera he had been studying earlier, the one by the welcome arch. "But it's not definitive evidence, just someone in the Steel Samurai costume, with the Samurai Spear and everything, heading towards the studio lots. Everyone keeps saying Will Powers did it though."

Nick sighed through his teeth and floated down so he was standing next to Maya. "Welcome to law enforcement. With trials the way they are, it's guilty until proven innocent and first seen, first arrested. You've seen how biased and bad it can get, and White was an outlier. Not every trial has some secret mastermind behind them but almost every trial is going to be an uphill battle. It's just...how the law is right now."

"I've said it once and I'll say it again: this sucks." Maybe it was petulant but—

"You're right." Oh, yeah...Nick had been the defendant of a trial when he died, hadn't he? If anyone understood, it was him.

Maya pulled the photo print from her sash and unfolded it, studying it closely. It really was someone in the Steel Samurai costume walking on camera. It seemed almost staged, their hold on the Samurai Spear unnatural, their entire torso angled so the camera would see it all. On the back of the print it read: ST1-307 – Oct 15, 2:00 PM, Photo #2.

"Two?"

"It comes after one."

Maya shot him a flat, unamused glare. "No, I mean: this is the second photo?"

"I think the camera is motion activated. It probably grabs shots of everyone who passes it." It was a solid theory.

"But two?"

"Oh, like 'where is photo one'?"

"Yes."

"No clue." Super helpful, Nick. "But we can use that, I'm sure. If there were two photos taken, one before this one, then we can assume someone else wandered in and around. And in full view of the camera, so we can rule out someone sneaking around in the woods."

"They were doing action scenes early in the morning, then they were supposed to do the rehearsal in the afternoon. Between the action scenes and the murder, everyone should have been in the employee area, right?" She met Nick's eyes as she spoke, hoping he understood what she was getting at. Judging by the way he was gaping in surprise, he did. "That could be the real murder!"

"Or an unrelated and mysterious third party?"

"Who could be the murderer!" It's not like every murder was some kind of locked room nonsense. People could walk in and out of public areas—private areas too. Third party didn't mean unrelated, if April May and Redd White were anything to go by.

"Possibly." Nick frowned in thought. "So what next, Maya?"

"Uh..." They had two options, really. Either check out the employee area or the murder scene. Probably both. "Well it depends on what we should do first."

"First?"

"The thing before second." Turnabout is fair play.

"Ha ha." He was unamused. Sucks to suck. "What I was asking was: how many options do we have?"

"Two; the scene of the murder and the employee area."

"Then how about this: you go check out Studio One and I'll poke about in the employee area to see if I can find anything useful. In the off chance it's a physical piece of evidence or something we might want to...hold on to," steal for later, "I can tell you where it is so you don't waste your time rummaging through the garbage."

"Is looking in the trash a regular occurrence?"

Nick's face drew into a pitying grimace. "More than you'd expect but less than doing it for fun and profit."

"Weird." Maya tried to imagine her sister rummaging in the trash and couldn't. The two disparate ideas wouldn't reconcile into a single occurrence. "But that sounds good! I'm gonna try and be super thorough when I look at the crime scene so come to me when you're done, okay?"

He flashed her an 'okay' hand sign. "Will do. Don't die."

"I don't plan on it."

"Usually you don't." Even though his tone was light and airy, there was something tense and choking in his chest. She felt it slam into her own heart and wrap tendrils around it, squeezing and sharp.

Like the last time he said it, he wasn't joking. Not entirely.

People don't usually plan on dying.

Then they parted ways. ——— Studio One was a large warehouse-like building with a single entrance accessible by foot traffic. Maya was surprised to see that the door, while it had a card reader on it to prevent unauthorized entry, was propped open with a re-sealed can of brilliant jade high-gloss paint. That must've been what Gumshoe meant when he said 'I left the door open for you'. No wonder he didn't want Prosecutor Edgeworth finding out. If someone else had taken advantage of the open door, he'd be in massive trouble. As she entered the studio, she moved the paint can inside so nobody else could get in without a keycard.

Now nobody would know what Gumshoe'd done.

Normally, the idea of being inside the area where rehearsals and filming for Steel Samurai took place would have sent Maya into a hyperventilating spiral of delight but...

White tape outlined the place where a man had died. There was no blood—it's likely the costume absorbed all of it—but little white markers pointed to where the weapon had to have been. Cameras pointed towards a backdrop of Mt. Neo Fujiyama against the brilliant midday sky, framing the scene like the finale of the show in its entirety.

The Evil Magistrate was dead! All of Neo Olde Tokyo can rest easy! The Steel Samurai has done it!

He's dead! He's dead!

He's dead!

(She can't pull her wrists too far apart. The cold metal bites, the fangs of the law around her hands and she knows if she doesn't keep fighting she's going to be dragged to hell with words and money. Iron floods her nose and the raw skin on her cheek aches against the cold. She wants to cry but there's someone there, wailing for her, crying for all her own emotions are trapped in her chest.)

(Mia is laying there, slumped. Surrounding her is a puddle of blood, white tape framing her like rim-lighting, the glass from the light stand a shotgun impact mark. Her dead, sightless gaze catches Maya's own and she opens her mouth to admonish her, ask why she didn't save her, why she didn't show up sooner and—)

"—miss? Miss?! Are you—?"

(There are two ghosts holding on to Maya's hands, their grip steel and iron claws vicious and restricting. Her sister—her sister dead and gone and dead and not gone and she never channeled her but if she did she'd be so disappointed and Maya couldn't talk to her anyway and—screaming and wailing, her other hand phased into Maya's chest clutching and squeezing her heart to stop it in its tracks. The other is someone she doesn't know—Nick Nick Nick who is her friend her lifesaver an anchor to reality it's Nick look it's Nick he's here to help he's—and his sightless eyes bore holes in her head as his own agony amplifies her own.)

(Her sister is being attacked and she can't move her hands too far apart and she wants to help but everyone's eyes mark her as a killer. No one will help her but the dead. No one cares but the dead. All she has are the dead. She's dying she's dying she's—)

"—in, hold, out. C'mon now, Maya, breathe!"

(Eyes like flood-lamps, like spotlights, derision and judgment burning blisters against her skin. Paper crumpled in her fist as she spits bullets of black and white reasoning across a battlefield. Stop looking at me! Stop it! Please stop! I didn't do it!)

(She can't afford to be anything other than angry. If she stops being angry she'll crumple in on herself like a dying star. She can't rest until the killer is caught but he smiles at her like he's won and all she can see is white tape and blood and blank eyes and blood and blood and blood.)

(She wants him dead. She wants him to suffer.)

(She's suffering.)

"—there we go, slow and deep. You've got this."

"Do I need to get someone, miss?"

Two people, one familiar and one not, were talking to her. The familiar voice—Nick, it's Nick, and he sounded so worried for her? Why was he worried for her?—was instructing her to breathe. She followed his instructions, suddenly aware of how hard her heart was hammering and how much of her hearing was being consumed by a shrieking ringing noise.

The other voice, the unfamiliar one, was also worried for her but in a more impersonal way. "Uh, I don't know if we have anything that can help and they never trained me on this! Um...uh..."

She needed to assure this poor person that she wasn't dying, that she was going to be alright. Her mouth worked around the words, lungs filling with enough air she could say things again, and she managed to wheeze out, "Don't—" The rest of what she wanted to express—don't worry about me, I'll be fine—died on her tongue. She didn't have the energy yet. She needed a little bit longer.

"Oh!" Maya's vision swam, the blue of Mt. Neo Fujiyama leaving blurry streaks across the face of the other person. She couldn't make out details just yet. "You're okay! That's - that's great!" The poor person sounded like they were about to cry.

"In, hold, out." Nick hadn't stopped coaching Maya's breathing. He just continued on, uninterrupted. She focused on his words, closing her eyes, and breathed. And breathed. And breathed.

When she opened her eyes again, everything was back to normal.

Admittedly, she was on the ground—which was concerning, but her head didn't hurt so she probably didn't fall over—and her mouth was simultaneously dry as cotton and full of weirdly sweet and sticky spit, but she wasn't...whatever that was.

If grief was touching an active heating coil, whatever had just happened was sticking a fork into a toaster. Overall a terrible experience that sapped the strength from every part of her.

"Th—" Maya started to say. Her tongues stuck to the back of her teeth so she took a second and tried again. "Thanks."

"I'm just glad you're alright." The other person—the worried stranger—was crouching nearby, her eyes wide behind her large, round glasses. She looked maybe Maya's age, dressed in a striped shirt with a camo cargo vest on. Her fingers were covered in bandages of one kind or another but she didn't seem to be having issues in spite of that, like she was used to it. "You really worried me there."

"Didn't mean to." Maya was talking to both of them, Nick close enough she could feel the cool tingle of him against the nape of her neck. "I just...didn't expect to react like that."

The girl's expression twisted in sympathy and she fiddled with her ponytail. "Yeah. It's pretty bad. Or, was."

Maya took another moment before she tried to stand up, her legs threatening to give out under her. She leaned against a folding table for support and continued to meter her breathing. "Uh, sorry, I'm Maya. I'm Will Powers' attorney."

The girl's face lit up at that. "Oh! You're taking care of WP! That's good. I was worried." WP? "I'm Penny. Penny Nichols. I'm an assistant on Steel Samurai."

Maya considered bowing to her but Nick interjected. "Don't. You might pass out."

Instead she smiled and inclined her head. "Pleased to meet you Nichols-san."

Penny Nichols blushed so hard her freckles popped against her pink skin. "No no no, you don't have to be so polite! Like I said: I'm just an assistant. I make props and things! I'm just Penny!"

Whoops. Too formal. Time to diffuse the situation. "Okay, just Penny." Judging by the startled laugh that got out of the assistant, it was the right call. "Again: I'm really sorry about...that."

"It's fine!" Judging by the way her voice cracked, it was not fine in the slightest. Penny might've been close to joining her if she hadn't snapped out of it. "I thought something had happened or someone else had attacked you and I was about to call security."

Nobody wanted that, it seemed.

"I'm better now. Glad you held off, though." Going from that to Oldbag would've been...hell, probably. "Uh, anyway, do you mind if I ask you a few questions Penny?"

"Straight to work out of a panic attack." It was hard to tell if Nick was impressed or upset with her. Either could be true. She hoped he could tell from her expression that she was fine right now, stop worrying.

(Be Mia. Be Mia.)

"I already talked to the police but yeah! Anything for WP."

"You keep saying that. WP. Who is that?" Context clues probably should have keyed her in but her thoughts were still prickly around the edges so forgive her if she didn't put one and one together.

"Oh! WP is Will Powers. He's...," Penny tried to find the right words, fiddling with her vest zipper, "He's a sweetheart but 'Will Powers' is a mouthful. It's how he's registered in the actor's guild so I want to be polite and all, hence the abbreviation. He says it's fine." She stumbled over her words, tripping all the way to the conclusion. For someone who worked with stars, she sure didn't act like it.

Judging by the way he had reacted when Maya called him 'Powers-san', he was content with however people wanted to call him. "Oh, okay. That makes sense."

Penny nodded, her ponytail slapping her shoulder. "WP didn't do it. I know he didn't."

"Me too. That's why I took his case."

"I'm so glad! It's nice to know he has someone looking out for him, considering."

"Likewise." Wait, hold on. "Considering?"

Penny's eyes widened behind her glasses. "Oh! I don't mean—that is..."

"I'm not trying to pry." Maya tried to alleviate her discomfort. "That's just the second time someone has mentioned something about Will Powers and Jack Hammer, or something like it. I was just curious."

Penny's expression shuttered, her concern masked with stark disapproval. "Oh, I'll bet you heard that WP and Mr. Jack didn't like each other, didn't you? I've been trying to squash those rumors on the forums for months. It's such a mess."

Forums? Wait, was she big on the forums? Did she do official social media for Steel Samurai or was it a hobby thing? "Not quite, though I wouldn't expect you to be on the forums."

She hadn't meant to let that slip, judging by how flushed she got. Penny carded her fingers through her ponytail and stared through Nick—whom she didn't know was there—in an attempt to not look at Maya. "Oh, uh, I mean...look, it's not like it's official..."

"Do I look like a cop?" Wait, she was a lawyer. "Or a narc?"

"Where did you learn 'narc'?" That word choice apparently amused Phoenix to no end.

"No?"

Maya shrugged. "I took the case because I'm a fan myself. What you do with your time is your business and, unless it directly impacts my investigation or if it would harm or aid my cause, I'm not worried about it. Besides: it's a stupid rumor mill echo chamber anyway. Like the whole thing about the moon being an ancient ayakashi egg. It's the moon! There are sapient rabbits up there! There's no reason to also make it an ancient ayakashi egg! That'd be overkill and, for all that the show can be a bit much, that's too much."

That was the right thing to say, it seemed, because Penny immediately started nodding so hard Maya was worried her glasses would fall off. "Right?! Do they not understand that there's a rhyme and reason to the mythos of the show? Making the moon an ancient ayakashi egg would throw off the whole point of the Mutant Moon Rabbits and the Moon Rabbit Kingdom!"

Penny was like her! Penny was a huge nerd just like her! That more than made up for the panic attack she just had. They should exchange numbers to talk about Steel Samurai stuff.

"Earth to moon rabbit," Nick called out, pulling her away from her imaginary conversations with her new Steel Samurai fan friend. "The case?"

Right. The case. "Sorry, that was off-topic. Uh, right," Maya cleared her throat and tried to be Mia for a bit, "so what were you doing the day of the...murder?" She tried to keep from looking at the outline of the body so she didn't panic again. That shade of white made her itch.

Penny also tried to go back to being professional, though she was grinning a mile a minute. "Right, uh, that day. So I was doing set work, like usual. The action sequence run-through was for early in the morning so that there could be a break before rehearsals so I was mostly prepping the scenes."

"Just her?"

"Are you the only assistant Global Studios has?" Maya tried to not sound pitying but she apparently did a bad job, judging by how Penny flinched.

"The studio isn't doing...great. Don't get me wrong: Steel Samurai is more popular than ever, it's just...not enough to hire a lot of staff. I'm set assistant, prop department, and gaffer. I don't do active lighting all the time—we have programs for that—but there's very little on set I don't—or can't—do, so I'm busy most days. Especially shoot days." That explained the bandages on her fingers.

"Was everyone there for the action scenes or just Hammer, Powers, and the relevant staff?" Did they need the crowd and suit extras or just the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate?

"Staff that day was WP, Mr. Jack, security, our producer, Sal, our cameraman, stunt coordinator, and myself." Penny ticked each person on her fingers as she talked. "Most of our extras had filmed their scenes for the next batch of episodes days before so we only needed the big players. Off record: there's been layoffs so the whole place is running on a skeleton crew, myself included. The pay is good because it's more hours than I'd normally get, but it's exhausting. Every time I close my eyes I see the sets I've painted."

"Yikes." What else could she say?

"Action run-through and then break, right?" Nick prompted. Right.

"So the action scenes in the morning, then lunch break while staff set up for the rehearsal, right?"

Penny nodded. "Everyone took lunch in the employee area. After lunch, WP went to his dressing room and I got super busy making sure markers were put down and everything looked good and was greased and ready to go for rehearsal. I was actually patching some of the bit-part suits and running laundry when they found the body." Busy bee.

"There's remnants of t-bone steak all over the employee area," Nick corroborated. "Global Studio seems to cater its meals on shoot days. They haven't cleaned them up, either, but that's probably on the police's orders. Don't touch anything, and all." Good information to have.

"You said Will Powers went to his dressing room after lunch?" Maya got a nod in response. "Did you see him any time after that?" That was a shake. "Did you check to see if he was asleep?"

That actually made Penny blush. "No! He's one of the big names, the important ones! I know he's pretty cool and all but you don't go busting into someone's personal dressing room like that! It's improper."

"To her credit, and his, there's a bed in the dressing room. It's small, barely a cot, but it's unmade and messy. He absolutely was sleeping after lunch." That was a relief.

"Understandable!" Maya laughed. "I think I'd've done the same. I'm just asking to make sure I have the facts straight."

"I understand." Penny went back to fiddling with her vest zipper. "I just...you know how it is."

"I really do." They were, after all, kindred spirits. "And you're certain nobody else was around during that time? The run-through and before the body was found?" Best to check for her mysterious unrelated third party.

Penny looked strangely on-edge when she asked that. She kept glancing between an open grate on the floor and Maya herself, chewing on her lower lip. When she finally spoke again, she seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "I didn't see anyone else but..."

"But?"

"Well, I...sensed? Someone?" She shifted in place a bit. "I know it sounds silly but there's only so many people here and you get used to their noise and presence and all—"

"Oh I get that, believe me." A village of people, everyone knowing everyone, and a manor with only three residents in it. Nightingale floorboards and the sounds of the forest outside. Screaming cicadas and crickets and owls. Wandering a mostly-empty street but knowing there's a tourist in town because the rhythm of everything was off. "You didn't see them, though?"

"Whoever it was kept out of sight." Penny actively looked at the grate this time. "We get, uh, kids coming in from time to time because, y'know." The Steel Samurai's demographic. The inverse bell graph. "But I don't recall seeing anyone, no."

"I assume that's what's up with the cops searching the woods? The whole...fans situation?"

"Couldn't tell you." Penny frowned. "Not that any of them would be here today. School day."

"Has that ever stopped a fan before?" Maya joked, knowing full well the answer.

"No." At least Penny got the joke.

Speaking of. "That grate—"

"Yeah." She sounded somewhat resigned. "Security keeps demanding I close it because it's a hazard and also the kids keep littering but Sal..."

"I assume he's telling you otherwise?" Maya hazarded.

Penny looked like she swallowed something sour. "'Free publicity,' he says." She plugged her nose and, probably imitating Sal Manella, continued, "'The kids tell their friends they saw the Steel Samurai fighting the new bad guy and more people watch. Even if we aren't making as much on tours, our numbers look great. Win-win.' I think he just is living out his childhood dreams vicariously through them."

Maya thought back to Oldbag mentioning Sal Manella and cease and desist orders. She grimaced. "Probably, but he's not wrong."

Even though it looked like it pained her to say it, Penny agreed. "He's not wrong. The problem is: I'm more scared of security than I am in agreement with Sal so...I'm boarding this up later today. I sure hope nobody gets too upset by it."

"You're just doing your job." Unfortunately for everyone, Maya had run out of questions to ask.

Penny seemed to pick up on that because she had a question for Maya. "Is he doing alright? WP, I mean."

"Oh, uh, I mean...he's okay?" He seemed nervous but that was likely just how he was. "The detention center isn't a great place to be but they're pretty...tolerable." It suddenly occurred to her that she really didn't want Penny to ask how she knew that. "He seemed...he was happy? Relieved? That I had taken his case—believed in him."

"Good." Penny's response was surprisingly firm. "WP needs people in his corner. He's a good guy."

"He didn't do it," Maya stated again. Penny nodded in agreement. "Besides, the Steel Samurai is a warrior of justice, not evil."

"Powers isn't the Steel Samurai," Nick pointed out. "You can't make judgment calls based on predisposed notions you have regarding someone's character. Especially if it's an actual character."

Maya chose to ignore him for now. "You want to exchange phone numbers? I'd love to chat about Steel Samurai if you have the time!"

"Sure!" Penny pulled out her phone and the two quickly sent an SMS to each other. She beamed at Maya, the happiness tinged with tired optimism. "Let me know how the trial goes? I won't be able to take off."

"I will." Wow, working a labor job sure seemed like it sucked. "Thanks for all the help! Sorry about freaking you out."

"It's good!" And somehow, Maya knew she meant that.

Leaving Studio One, Maya and Nick headed towards the front entrance so they could catch the next bus back to the Office to organize what information they had. Maya was thinking about the missing first picture and Will Powers' alibi and Oldbag and how people seemed to think Powers and Hammer actually disliked each other.

That's why she didn't hear Nick until he cleared his throat and repeated himself a little louder. "You can't just decide that your client is innocent based on your emotional leaning."

That seemed a little hypocritical. "What?"

"You equated Powers to his character, the Steel Samurai. Because the Steel Samurai is a noble warrior of justice, Powers can't have killed Hammer. That's a false equivalency. You can't do that in court. They'll rip you apart." He was trying to help her. She knew that. It's just—

"Aren't I supposed to trust my client? That's an emotional leaning!"

Nick flinched as if struck. "That's not the same thing."

"No, I know it's not, I'm just pointing out that I'm not...I don't actually think Will Powers is the Steel Samurai. I actually believe in him. I just also..." Shame curled around her ears and cheeks and nape, flushing her skin on contact.

"Yeah." Nick let out a long-suffering sigh. "All I meant was: remember to watch how you say things, especially in a high-profile case like this one. If the prosecution doesn't rip you to shreds, the media will. There won't be anything left over."

They both were kinda bad at talking to people, huh? Maya stifled an amused laugh with a cough. "I get it. I'll try and be smart in court tomorrow."

"That's all I'm asking." And wasn't that comforting? Knowing someone was there without strings attached, at her side every step of the way? "Do you think you're prepared?"

"I think I've got the basis of a good defense. Barring something truly heinous or, I don't know, Will Powers choosing to confess and plead guilty, I'll be fine. It's not my first rodeo."

"You're right." That teasing lilt returned to Nick's voice and he grinned at her. "It's your second."

"And I'm only getting stronger and more formidable every time!" They passed beneath the welcome arch, the feeling of the security camera taking a snapshot prickling against the back of her neck. "Prosecutor Edgeworth better watch himself."

"I think he's learned to not underestimate you already."

"And he's gonna learn I'm a certified powerhouse!" Maya cackled. "I can't wait."

"Just remember that this is about our client, not your grudge."

No, that was fair. She needed that reminder from time to time. "He's innocent and I'm gonna prove it."

"I can't wait." Neither could she.

[lifewithparanormal]

Butterfly effect

Chapter 1: Mortal reunion

Index

Next chapter

It seemed a quiet afternoon in Navarros repairs, as the said owner was cleaning his shop and technology he very often passed to pretty regular customers.

It wasn't long until, at some point, he engaged a cleaning in his closets and found an hidden framed picture.

All in black and white, how many years went by judging by all the dust accumulated on it? Still, he managed to recognise the content by wiping his finger at all the corners. The adult almost had a big wave of nostalgia the more he looked at it.

….Was it a party? Was it a club meeting? Anyway, three persons on four on said picture: two guys and one girl; seemed to wear party hats. Looking excited, all looking at a pretty gloomy-looking guy holding a book called ''the raven'' . The only woman of the group, in her dress, hold a banner easily read

My first novel

Full of sentiments, he passed his hand on his cheek as he gazed at the man wearing a leather jacket on the picture. The man who, in face and hairstyle, looked exactly like himself, minus the soul patch. Plus he was wearing his repairs suit in red ribbon.

''Right….it was today…how many years has it been?'' Felix Navarro thought……

His wave of nostalgia was quickly interrupted by the sound of storming. Four children were opening the door agressively, looking quite deceptive while looking at each other.

''Gaaaah, ¡Santo dios! , you startled me!'' the adult exclaimed.

But they were not even listening to him. Daemona Prune, Jericho, Kira Williams and Casey were too busy talking to each other.

''What were you thinking Jericho?! Throwing that thing right at my direction?!'' Kira shouted.

''I'm sorry! It's just…you accidentally got in the way!'' Jericho argued.

''I had to avoid the assault of the pixies! Sorry to value my own life!'' Kira sarcastically replied.

''But but….you have the power to read through people's mind, couldn't you have just-''

Before Casey even had the chance to finish his question, Kira glared right at him.

''Yo, doesn't mean my brain is in full turbo one hundred percent of the time for PsyJaak's sake! So many things were happening at the same time!'' Williams justified

Daemona, the leader, the only person who didn't say anything on view so far, noticed Navarro looking at them all interrogative, crossing his arms.

''Guys, this is not the timing right now, we have to do our report.'' Daemona exclaimed, while making signs to her friends to follow her.

Awkwardly clearing her throat and brushing the dust on her suit, the young redhead leader greeted Navarro followed by the rest of the gang.

''So….I take it you have some difficulties on a case?'' Navarro asked.

''Maybe it would be simple but apparently we have some difficulties communicating.'' Daemona remarked while side-eye her gaze to Jericho.

''This is just a bad moment, we'll surf through it in no big time.''Jericho casually swifted in words.

''Bad moment? This is like the third case we're arguing like that! Why do you have to be so aloof about everything?'' Kira angrily judged.

Frowned eyebrowns, Jericho flailed his arms while talking back.

''Aloof?''

''I mean, Kira's kinda right! To quote Daemona: The plan was to capture defensively, not shooting everywhere! Unquote. And it's a plan I came up with! You didn't respect it!'' Casey added.

''Whatev man, I thought the leader was supposed to be impartial!'' Jericho shrugged off with an annoyed tone.

For a reason unknown to Navarro, who was getting quite uncomfortable with the atmosphere getting increasingly more negative, Daemona became vexed by that remark. Slowly walking towards Jericho, she put the emphasis on each of her oncoming words.

''Jay, we've been over this: a leader must be open to ideas and manage her team in the hope of working together! I was OK with Casey's plan with no alternatives, Kira too! I guess you didn't because you were afraid of missing some random meeting.''

The green-coated leader pointed towards her teammate then added:

''Can't process that? Then I'm afraid you'll have to make a choice: Either you reconsider your place on this team or-''

''Tiempo muerto!'' Navarro interrupted though his voice was not in the angriest tone.

That sudden interpelation took the four children in the room by surprise. Navarro had a stern gaze towards the team, all in silence.

''What am I hearing right now? Nobody needs to reconsider anything here!'' Navarro indicated.

''But Kira started it!'' Jericho whimpered while waving his arm at her, ignoring her ''hey'' as a response.

''Who started it or what was the cause is of no importance.'' The adult put clearly. ''As for you, Daemona, I'm gonna ask you to drop this behavior, now!''

The 13-year old kid was quite shaken by the direct tone of Navarro. Ever since she knew him, while learning eventually about his background and personnal link to her family, she never saw him getting angry like that! And he never used that tone with her. For some time she was speechless, but Casey broke the silence.

''Professor Navarro?!'' he named.

''What's the beef?'' Kira asked.

Taking a deep breath, Navarro sat down on a chair he placed in front of the children.

''…..Sorry if I scared you, I didn't mean to sound like that, ….alright, what is the level of the threat?'' he casually questionned.

''To be honest….we captured them and figuring out what to do with them, they're pixies and are captives in the soul collector waiting in the Ghoul-Mobile so..... it's kinda at Wad's level.'' Casey scratched his head.

''Not important, got it. So I hope you don't mind to sit down a little and tell you a story about one of my cases.'' The mentor suggested in a more calm manner.

''You mean with you….Willard…and my grandparents?'' Daemona revealed, interrogative and raising an eyebrow.

Jericho coughed.

''Hold the Ghoul-phone, you already told us about your team, we have a good resume of what happened. Why hearing that story again?'' the ginger kid then seeked to know.

''I'm not talking about that tragic event, let me tell you a story about one of the cases we landed, and the results of it. Grab a chair.'' Navarro precised.

Jericho used his telekinesia to control four chair by distance, bringing them in line so that the four kids could sit.

''Is it going to be long?'' Kira said.

''It depends of your willingness.'' Felix indicated.

''And...if I'm hungry during the story, am I forced to starve or I can go get a sweet?'' Casey enquired.

''¡Por supuesto you can get something to eat!'' Navarro laughed at that remark. ''Who do you take me for?''

''But....why that sudden change of tone? You're more serious than the last time you told us about your past....'' Daemona remarked

Navarro sighed, clearly what he was about to tell was going to unearth a deep pain….

''Because last time, we were in a hurry, which is not the case now! So I just want you to take the time to understand…what can happen if you start to lack even one bit of teamwork and communication.'' the mentor justified.

As he, Felix, continued to talk and start his story, the scene transitionned in his head….

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

June 1958, in the same city of San Francisco…..more precisely, your attic, Daemona, which belonged to your grandmother at the time.

It was one of our usual horror novel reading evenings for our ''club'' , and the start of a quite mysterious case. I was the one presenting the book: My three friends were listening and were quite put in the ambience.

-...-

And indeed they were, though Willard wasn't quite as much in the ambience as pretended. Felix Navarro was standing, with his black leather jacket, in front of his friends, gramophone side to him who was playing a mystical, supernatural music to accompany the telling of his readings.

Harold and Mary were clapping hands in unison, happily chanting. In his own jaded way, Willard accompagnied them.

''Fe-lix! Fe-lix, Fe-lix, Fe-lix!'' they all chanted, though Willard's monotone sound of voice was quite low like the lowest musical note.

Navarro pursued with his dramatic postures and tellings.

''The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my-''

But his lifeful tale was not going to last longer: the rotary dial telephone sounded towards all the room. Mary Beyer was the first to get up and answer.

''Phantom Investigators, a vampire invades the privacy, he will be sorry!'' she commercialized with enthusiasm.

Felix and Harold rolled their eyes, keeping their smiles. Willard annoyingly sighed.

''Every time…'' he shook his head with almost disgust.

The girl of the group pursued the phone call answered…meanwhile, Harold and Felix were discussing between them.

''I wonder how far away it is this time, we should probably get the map out.'' Harold suggested, adjusting his glasses. ''A care I'll happily manage.'' Navarro indicated, walking towards a door closet.

Without even saying a single word, Willard stood up and signaled Mary to stand a few steps away. He put his hands on the phone and concentrated for ten seconds.

''I know the caller is in this direction.'' Willard assured, pointing in the direction left to him.

''….Thank you Will!'' Mary whispered, slighty smiling.

''Yeah yeah, don't mention it.'' he answered, monotone.

Willard then went back to sit down on the big solid couch, looking around and not even exchanging gazes with his friends.

Meanwhile, the two other boys looked at their friend with a worried look, though Navarro saw that Harold was getting slowly more and more disapproving with the looks.

''Willard's in his best mood today.'' Felix smiled awkwardly.

''Word of advice: sarcasm doesn't suit you.'' Hal said.

Answering playfully with a sound of pain, Navarro then sighed, looking at his other male friend.

''Listen Hal…say what you want about our friend's attitude, but you can't deny he has been a pretty good help on the team with his powers reflecting! Plus he does like our novel club.'' Felix reassured, hand on his friend's shoulder.

''I know…..I just wish he was a little less condescending about everything each time we land a case.'' Harold closed his eyes.

''Leave that to the leader, you know I'll take care of these kinds of problems.'' Felix proudly answered, pointing to himself.

Mary hanged up the phone, turning towards the three young adults.

''450 Harrisson Street, to be more precise, Willard!'' she informed.

''What about the case?'' Harold asked, opening the map on the table.

''Unfortunately, he didn't want to talk about it by phone.'' Mary sadly negated.

''No business too mysterious, too detailled or too ugly, we'll happily see about that when we get here.'' Felix assured.

Under these words, the PI leader turned his gaze towards Willard.

''While talking about happily, Willard, I hope for you to put some effort about being more reassuring in presence.'' Felix advised.

''I'm here, isn't that enough?'' Will said, deadpan.

''Don't you remember what happened with our last client?'' Felix warned.

-...-

A quick cut to three days ago showed a 6-year old young girl throwing her pillows at Willard while screaming. The latter's hair was messy and he was not even flinching under the pillow shots.

''STOP THAT'S NOT THE ZOMBIE, THAT'S OUR TEAMMATE!'' Mary screamed, trying to stop the girl with her two other teammates.

-...-

Back to the PI's attic, Willard crossed his arms.

''In my defense, I had a bad sleep.'' he defended.

''Because of that however, we almost didn't land the case! In other words: sonríe más.'' Navarro explained.

''OK I'll try to smile more sometimes.'' Willard nodded, not even changing his jaded emotion.

Just taking a deep breath, Navarro simply turned towards his two other friends.

''Let's go investigate amigos!''

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The four Phantom Investigators ended their way towards a house, horizontally large, not very high.

''450….that's the place.'' Navarro affirmed, knocking into the door.

The door slowly opened, revealing a shy blonde 9-year old boy half-hiding behind the door, Wearing a light brown tank top right on a long-sleeve white shirt with a zip collar. Looking at all the gang, he nevertheless winced and moved his head away once he got a quick stare at Willard, who was….not smiling.

''Who…who are you?'' he quietly asked.

''You must be the kid who called us right? Investigadores de fantasmas, at your service.'' Navarro introduced, politely leaning forwards.

The child grew some light of hope in his face. Quickly nodding, he opened the door.

''Right right, sorry…it's just that I never saw your faces on the pamphlet where I looked at your number.'' the little lad excused.

''Tsk, what are you expecting, tad? Enemies will recognise us if we expose ourselves like that.'' Willard cockily remarked to the kid, arms crossed.

The said kid hesitated to answer, backing away, hand on the door handle. Harold and Navarro just glanced bitterly at their teammate, but Mary slowly came in front of the gang, towards the child, maternally reassuring him with a quiet voice.

''Please excuse my friend here, he has a tendancy to be too honest while lacking the tact.'' Mary excused, while slowly negating her head. ''Nobody wants harm to you, my little darling, please take the time to explain where is the meanie ghost who scared you so we'll happily take care of the problem.''

Harold admired the calm tone of Mary and how she was able to take things in a soft manner. Glaring at her with a smile, he had no doubt in his mind that she was going to be a great mother one day.

What the children answered quite startled some members of the team.

''To be honest….I don't know!''

''You don't know?!'' Harold repeated.

''I mean…I'm not the one who has a problem, my brother just passed me the pamphlet and told me to call here….he didn't want to say more, so I don't know what happened….follow me….'' the kid ordered.

It was quite some time all the gang was standing outside with the door left open. Perhaps was indeed the time to enter and keep some warm inside the house. All the Phantom Investigators followed the little kid while the latter continued talking.

''I never saw my big brother like this, he's been like that ever since he entered.''

Harold smiled with a little gaze at Mary, he tapped gently her arm with his elbow while adressing the little lad.

''I guess Mary can go talk to him, she's the most gentle soul and always take things with a calm manner. He'll open up in no time'' Hal complimented.

''Oh stop it you flirt!'' Mary happily blushed, throwing her hand on the left, avoiding Harold's gaze.

Willard raised his hand, proposing something.

''I can accompany her I guess.'' he proposed.

''No offense but you'll not really help with the zombie looks.'' Harold jested to his comrade.

''Sure, just never give me the chance and assume the worst.'' Willard sarcastically replied.

Even with the playful tone, Navarro sensed there was some sort of sincerity hidden through Harold's sentence, and as a leader, he felt that it was best to handle that little conflict now. Moving towards Harold and Willard, putting his arms around their shoulders, he expressed a suggestion.

''Mi propuesta: Mary and I are going to take care of that isolated brother while you two search around the house in advance for anything suspiscious, got it?''

Harold nodded under Navarro's proposition, though he wasn't particulary pleased of staying alone with Willard.

Under this approval, the PI chief went along with Mary towards the older brother's room, leaving the two other members alone. The atmosphere was awkward for some time while the little kid was looking at the two PIs.

''….I don't know if it will help you but….our dad's a police inspector.'' the little kid added.

''So you could have used him to clear the problem from the start, big de-''

Willard got immediately interrupted by an elbow hit on the stomach from Harold.

''What he means to say is that we are the specialists of paranormal cases, so….why this information….hum…your name?'' Hal interrogated.

''Gus Tecker! And I don't know…to be honest…I'm sort of worried, daddy didn't come home tonight.'' Gus sadly informed….

''You know what it is….duty calls.''

Harold stopped his mid-line of dialogue, pulling out a book from his backpack, consulting it.

''However: Tenth rule of supernatural: even what seems non-phantom can hide some spooks behind the curtains.'' Harold closed the book looking at Gus. ''Where is your father's room?''

The children just pointed the direction. Hal thanked him by patting him on the back, then traded his gaze at Willard while handing him his backpack.

''Last one in the room eats slime for tomorrow's dinner!'' Harold Prune jested, while using his powers to teleport away.

Unimpressed, Willard crossed his arms while sighing.

''He always does this tomfoolery…..''

Not even putting the backpack on his back, Will dragged his feet toward the hall while holding it with one hand, Gus followed him. ……

One thing the 18-year old PI was able to admit is that he was not quite good with kids! Looking for an opening of innocent conversation while walking, the gloomy phantom investigator searched through the backpack, showing Gus what seemed to be a large scope mixed with handles and a flash like seen on old cameras.

''What's that?'' Gus curiously inquired.

''We call this the soul collector.'' Will introduced with an attempt to smile, cracking his cheek bones under the force. ''…..Wanna see the cursed souls we can collect?''

''......No?!''

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Mary and Navarro entered the older brother's room after knocking. What they were greeted with was someone pretty physically fit, wearing a varsity jacket. But the duo didn't quite see what brand it was exactly since the poor boy was curled up on his bed.

No sound was heard for him. But one gaze at his puffy eyes from Mary could tell he's been crying for some time, and she didn't need her telepathic powers to know that.

''Holà pobrecito….we're the Phantom Investigators….what's going on?'' Felix Navarro kindly asked.

''Oh….so you finally came….sorry I didn't call you myself, but I was….really not in a good state of mind! …..Name's Frederik.'' the guy introduced himself, sniffling a little.

Mary closed her eyes for a few seconds, approaching slowly the client, yellow waves came out of her forehead, sign that she was using her telepathic powers.

''What do you feel, Mary?'' Felix Navarro curiously interrogated. '

'A lot of grief….sadness…and deep hatred. I have no doubt, he was directly involved in the incident he's deeply keeping inside.'' his friend described.

Frederik was really surprised of that accurate description, stuttering, he just blurted his thoughts out loud.

''How did you know that?''

''Even if someone keeps silent, emotions can not escape the use of my powers. So I would kindly suggest you don't bury your emotions inside and tell us the problem….even if…it might hurt as I hear it now!'' the telepathic young adult explained.

Shyly answering an ''alright'' , Frederik, remaining sitted down on his bed and curled up, and took a deep breath.....

''It's my father, he disappeared!'' Fred then revealed, gloomy.

.....

.....

I'll always remember that moment........

.....What Mary depicted with her telepathy.....what was the case going to be, what caused a guy our age to have this much turmoil inside him.....

.....All these questions, spiraling in my head.....however, one thing I was not aware of at the time....

This case, that appeared so simple at first sight, was going to be the snowball rolling down a hill…that would start to grow more and more, carrying more secrecy and darkness along the way.

To be continued

[sam15th3b35t]

Death's Door-The Massacre Chapter 1 Deadly Life Investigation.pdf

[trout-scout]

The Beast of Morag's Fell- Chapters 1 & 2

Read Here

"Fine! You both...do whatever it is you do. Just- just get this thing out of my club before I finish losing my bloody mind."

Synopsis:

June, 1974, and Helena Blackwood, psychical investigator, needs a holiday. The shadows of Glaster Hall loom even in the summer heat, and the dead never rest. A week with Toby in the rural Scottish village of Morag's Fell is her answer, invited by Toby's university friend, the village laird, Hamish MacKay. Serene and tranquil, not even monstrous local legends and the upcoming festival for a dismembered saint can disrupt the peace of the Fell- or come between Helena and Toby's fragile friendship. But when death comes to call and new blood darkens the loch, Helena must choose between peace...and exhuming the truth of Morag's Fell.

Blackwood 2 begins! Wahoo wahoo!

[review-anon]

//Welp the First victim reveal has come spoilers under the cut.

//Even more spoiler stuff because Tumblr hates the keep reading tag and I don't want people like Bubbles and TA being spoiled. Read on in peril.

//I KNEW Wolfgang was gonna bite it.

//He was too important in Chapter 1 and we all know what that entitles.

//Now judging from the way he died...I'm gonna guess and say he joins Kanata, Xander and Miharu in people who got electrocuted to death. Hey it means the gender ratio is even now.

//...That was not a funny joke.

//Now I know the Not-Melee tournament is gonna play a role. Now Grace was there but she doesn't seem smart enough to do something like this, plus she LIKES Wolfgang.

//Kai is a scumbag and coward, but I also don't see him as the type to do something like this.

//I don't have any immediate sus people due to the lack of evidence, but if you are asking me for my gut instinct.

//Eva has been behaving strange and that isn't a good sign for these, especially as she's the only person aside from the protag who doesn't trust Wolfgang.

//Now does this mean I was wrong on Wolfgang? That he really was as kind as he looked? I wouldn't be so hasty.

//After all, its a known fact that Chapter 1 deaths tend to get revisited later on in the game as their victims become more important.

//Mukuro is the 16th Student, Rantaro was the Ultimate Survivor, Byakuya was a Imposter and Yuri had a hand in the Killing Game tech.

//As such I am convinced we will learn more about Wolfgang in the future. And then we see if I was right or actually wrong.

//In the mean time, I have plans.

[pureconancommentary]

THE MAGNIFYING GLASS AGAIN, WHY. IT REALLY FEELS LIKE UNCANNY VALLEY DETECTIVING, LIKE YEAH IT'S THE STEREOTYPE TOOL, BUT YOU NEVER USE IT.

[antoh3rnde]

Chapter 1

September 6, 1996 - Quinn

That morning, I couldn't tell if I was scared or just excited. All I could think about was making a good first impression; otherwise, I would never be taken seriously.

I was entering the Blue Whale, the old well known diner in town, near the coast. Me and the guy who had called me, agreed to meet there to discuss the case he needed to entrust to me, in person.

My first real case. During my apprenticeship with Scott, my mentor, I had only solved small cases, an arson and a man cheating on his wife, and even then, not alone. However, when this guy, a certain Chase Coleman, had called me, I had immediately felt that this case would mark a turning point in my career, now that I had finally managed to get to open my little private investigative agency.

I composed myself, trying not to show my anxiety, tucking a small blonde strand that had escaped my low ponytail behind my ear. I took a deep breath and, with trembling hands, pushed open the door of the Blue Whale.

It wasn't the first time I had entered that diner, and I knew it wasn't a very crowded place. It wasn't that day either, so it wasn't difficult to spot my appointment: a guy sitting alone at one of the tables in the back, looking around a bit. So, with a determined step, I approached the table.

"Hello... you must be Mr. Coleman?" I said, standing next to the table.

"Yes, you must be Detective Becker. Just call me Chase," said the guy, standing up and offering me his hand in a friendly manner.

He didn't seem too strange, just extremely messed up. Overall, he was quite handsome, with brown hair and bottle-green eyes, and he seemed to be about my age. It was evident that he was exhausted from life; he had clearly tried to clean himself up, dressing well and shaving his beard, but the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him. He wasn't much taller than me, and even though he wore a fairly loose sweatshirt, it was clear how skinny he was.

"Very well, Chase. It's a pleasure to meet you," I said, sitting across from him after shaking his hand. The waitress arrived, the same one for years, and we both ordered a coffee; while waiting, I took the opportunity to take out my recorder and insert the empty tape.

"So, on the phone, you were very vague. Explain to me in detail why you called me."

"Alright, I'll get straight to the point. But you must take me seriously because no one ever has, and I swear I'm not crazy. Okay?"

At that moment, I started to wonder if my hunch had been wrong, and if the handsome guy in front of me was actually just paranoid. After all, Scott had told me that in this job you deal with a lot of strange people.

"Sure, let's hear it."

Chase leaned toward me, over the table, so he wouldn't be heard by others.

"I think my father is a murderer." Amazing, he’s mad.

I cleared my throat.

"Would you mind explaining?"

"Do you remember the Oregon Ripper, between '85 and '86? The sixteen children who died?"

Oh God, a conspiracy theorist.

"Where are you going with this? The killer was caught."

I have to admit I felt a bit guilty. Clearly, he was struggling, Chase's hands were trembling around the coffee cup, and my not-so-gentle questions were not helping at all.

"Let me explain. I believe some of the children were killed by my father, even though the murders were still attributed to the Ripper."

"Okay, but why would he have done it? What do you think the motive is?"

I saw Chase swallow, taking a deep breath and a sip of coffee.

"I'll be honest with you, it's not a topic I like to talk about, so bear with me." He admitted, leaning back against the worn leather of the diner booth. I nodded and tried to give him a small smile to encourage him and maybe help him a bit; although I think I failed miserably.

"When I was little, about thirteen, one summer for my little sister's birthday, Charlotte, my mom took us to the public pool. All of us, me, her, Charlie, and my dad," he said, smiling with bitterness.

"In the afternoon, my dad and mom left to go to the bar, asking me to watch Charlotte, who was still just a child of barely six, while she was in the pool. Like many kids, I was a bit of a rebel and had no desire to be there."

Tears started to form in Chase's eyes, he tried to hold back a sob, unsuccessfully, and I have to admit, I felt a bit like a jerk.

Technically, the rules of the job forbade me from forming any emotional attachment with my clients, and I cared a lot about making a good impression, but I cared even more about being a good person. So I threw professionalism out the window and reached across the table to hold his hand, squeezing it slightly.

"Of course, I didn't listen to them and put on my headphones. My... my sister drowned that day, and I will never forgive myself."

At that moment, I wished I had something more to say than "I'm sorry, Chase"; but I had never been very good at comforting people. Moreover, I had to respect the professional boundary, so I just held his hand and offered him a tissue, which he declined.

Chase caught his breath, wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, and continued his story, while I unconsciously held my breath.

"My dad changed after the incident. He wasn't the same anymore, and the people closest to him noticed. I noticed. He was irritable, grumpy, spent hours locked in his office, and avoided me like the plague. When we were at the table together, he always looked at me with hatred and contempt, and I... well, it wasn't easy."

"So you believe your father went crazy and killed some children who were then attributed to the Ripper?" I asked, starting to think and letting go of the young man's hand.

"Not exactly." Chase had somewhat recovered and was back to being the confident guy I had shaken hands with half an hour earlier.

"I think my father certainly went mad, but he planned everything in detail to avoid being caught. I believe he took advantage of the murders to unleash his madness."

I nodded, taking a sip of coffee. I started to think. Maybe accepting the case was madness. Maybe I would never be able to solve it. Maybe the guy in front of me was just delusional. I looked up and saw Chase: his eyes were still wet, and he was clearly thinking the same things I was. He recognized that he seemed like a desperate person who couldn't accept his sister's death after years, and maybe it would have been rational for me to think the same, but something inside me made me accept.

"I imagine you want to decline the case at this point. I understand, I-"

"I accept the case."

[danganronpadespairtime]

Chapter 3 work has begun! ...Actually, DT work has been underway for a while, but never announced until now.

The first draft of the daily life, investigation, and first 1/4th of the trial have already been completed~ Thank you for your patience!

The progress will be regularly updated on a progress bar on the about page, so please check it at your convenience! It will be regularly updated until chapter 3 is finished.

[electricgg]

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 11: Say What You Want, But Say It Like You Mean It With Your Fists For Once

Masterlist

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 (Here!) / Chapter 12 /

The Rogues Gallery had its own section inside the Batcave’s archive.

From the very beginnings of Batman’s crusade for justice in this crime-ridden city, he had built a handmade archive with information about each of his later named ‘rogues’. From their fall into crime to behavioral and blood analysis taken straight out of Arkham’s own archives. 

Including their family history.

As time passed, all those files, investigations, and profiles were moved digitally to the hard drive of the Batcomputer, but Bruce still kept the old archive. Most of the boys suspected it was out of practicality, since in the past, technology had failed them more than once, and keeping the original documents had proved them useful.

But now? They were questioning its real motive.

“You’re right,” Dick muttered, flipping through the pages of the file Damian and Tim had shoved into his hands the moment he got inside Tim’s room. “There’s missing information here.”

Damian tutted, his frustrated scowl deepening on the corner of his lips. “Outstanding observation, Grayson.”

“Can you recall anything that could be missing from the file?” Tim questioned, tapping away on his laptop without looking away from the bright screen.

Dick, still somewhat pale from puking for almost half an hour on the bathroom, huffed a sigh with an exhausted stare. He passed the pages back to the front of the file, where an introductory record paper was written in old black ink.

The name at the top of the paper brought a cold sensation down his spine.

Harvey Dent

It had been a while since that name was mentioned. Two-Face had been thrown in Arkham Asylum three years ago and hadn’t broken out of there in that period. Dick wasn’t present at the time of the arrest, Bruce had done it all on his own without backup. 

He had even denied showing his body camera footage of that night.

Not even Barbara had managed to find the footage. Dick discared the whole situation as a tech failure, since it had been more than once that the body cameras were crushed in a fight or simply stopped working.

Maybe he should have looked more into it.

“It’s the family record,” he muttered. “It’s not completed. There’s a missing relative.”

Damian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Who?”

“Bianca Dent,” he sighed, taking a seat on Tim’s bed. His weight made the mattress sink, gaining a hiss from Tim, the sudden movement almost snapped him away from his concentration.

“She was Dent’s twin sister. Bruce took me to a few of her plays back when I started as Robin.”

He remembered her quite well. Such a tall woman with a captivating voice left quite the impression on his eight-year-old self. 

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

“And who might this be?”

Dick had taken refuge behind Bruce’s legs, staring widely at the elegant and glamorous woman that had leaned forward to get a closer look at the shy young boy. 

Defined dark brown curls, pinned by hairpins. Neat makeup, not a single imperfection in sight. A beauty mark that accentuated her deep, brown, soulful eyes that crinkled at the corners due to the warm smile on her painted lips. She was still wearing her costume, a Spanish dress with ruffles on the skirt and a corset, both in vivid red that stood out against her white shirt, which fell down her shoulders.

Bruce chuckled, his hand gently reassuring Dick by pressing on the back of his head. “This is Dick, he is my ward.”

“What a funny title,” she poked, giving the older man a smirk. “Saying that he’s your son is not that hard, you know.”

The sudden flustered look and cough from Bruce got a laugh from Dick. The woman laughed, taking a knee down to brush off a few strands of hair out of Dick’s face.

“I’m Bianca,” she said. “I’m an old friend of your old man over here.”

“And what does that make you, Bia? Last time I checked, we all have the same age.”

The woman rolled her eyes, getting up from the floor to look back at the approaching man as he came down the hall.

If Bruce was the tallest man Dick had ever met, this other man was easily taking the title. Dark curls, tanned skin, and a grin on his lips. Dressed sharply in grey colors and holding a large bouquet of yellow roses and other types of flowers in the same color.

“Indeed,” She drawled, giving the man a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, to which he copied. “But, I wear it better than the two of you combined.”

“She got us there, Harv,” Bruce jested with a smirk, gaining a light shove in the shoulder from the other man.

“Don’t give her the satisfaction,” Harv groaned. “She feeds on attention and becomes insufferable.”

Bianca scoffed loudly, snatching the bouquet and hitting Harv over the head with it. Looking smug when he complained and glared at her. “I’m not the one with his face plastered all over the city while grinning like some low-budget toothpaste announcement.”

“I’m not the one getting paid for just screaming at the top of my lungs like some wailing goat.” He snapped back.

“At least one of us has refined tastes,” she shot, her left eye twitching as she snapped her gaze back at Bruce. “Right, Bruce?”

“I think that’s our cue to leave, chum.” He chuckled, taking a few steps back while Dick stared at those two.

Now, as they stood besides each other, Dick could see the uncanny resemblace between them. Same eye shape. Same nose. Same eyebrows. Same skin tone. Even their form of speech sounded similar.

“Of course,” Harv snorted. “Leave me at the hands of the bi-witch!” He stuttered at the end, glancing down at the kid with a laugh before Bianca hit him once again with the flowers. She then pulled at his ear, grumbling a ‘Language’ while he yelped and switched to a smile directed at the young boy.

“Excuse my dumb brother, he doesn’t know how to behave in public.” She said, getting a glare from Harv while he rubbed his throbbing ear.

Dick simple laughed at the display before him, getting the adults to also laugh at themselves for how they were acting. 

Two years later, Harvey Dent would go to trial against Sal ‘Boss’ Maroni.

And the name Two-Face was born.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

After Harvey Dent turned to the criminal life, Dick only heard of Bianca on the newspaper or by Alfred when he asked Bruce about how she was doing. Most of those conversations ended with Bruce changing the subject or simply leaving the room. A few more months later, Dick had suspected Bianca had changed her last name to avoid the public and vanished from the spotlight.

Another person swept under the dark of this cursed city.

“Did she have any type of sexual relationship with Father?” Damian questioned, making Dick sputter and give the boy a wide stare.

“Jesus, Dami, you don’t just ask that!” He stressed.

That’s when Tim decided to cut in, a grimace on his face. “Don’t ask the obvious facts, Damian. We need to go deeper than that.”

Damian shrugged, “I needed Grayson to confirm it. His reaction was enough to answer my question.”

“What does that have anything to do with missing documents?” Dick pressed, growing frustrated with his brothers. They clearly knew something he didn’t, and it was getting on his already altered nerves.

The sensation of blood dripping down his forehead was hard to shrug off.

The younger boys exchanged glances for a few moments, Tim nodding at Damian, who, without a word, turned around and made his way to some folded papers on the small desk attached to the corner of the bedroom. The sight was a bit off putting to Dick since it wasn’t common for them to act so agreeable and in synch with each other. 

If they had always acted like this, maybe the patrols would have gone a lot more smoothly and with fewer arguments.

Damian then handed Dick the papers, noticing they were opened letters. The torn envelopes were right beneath the papers. He picked a random envelope out of the bunch and read the address right in the center.

(Y/N) Wayne Dent 224 Park Drive, Crest Hill, Bristol Township Gotham City, New Jersey

“...Is this a joke?” Dick fumed, paper crumpling in his fingers. A heating, raging sensation consumed his chest and spread down to the bottom of his stomach.

The more he stared down at the second last name, the more that heat turned into scalding fury. 

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like that name. He didn’t like that name being beside hers. 

He didn’t want it there. He wanted it gone. Burn it. Torn it. Scratch it off. He just wanted it gone, gone, gone, gone, goNE, GONE, GONE, GONE-

“Look at the address where it came from.” Tim’s voice did little to nothing to divert the anger spilling out of Dick’s body.

U.H. Mercy Island, Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane Gotham City, New Jersey

“I found them in Father’s office,” Damian explained, arms crossed with a sharp glint in his eyes. “They were hidden in his desk in a small compartment. Each one addressed to her, two for each month in the past three years.”

Two for each month, that’s a total of twenty-four letters in a year.

Twenty-four letters for three years. 

Seventy-two letters in total.

“What is this psycho doing?” Dick growled out, getting up from his spot and flipping through the letters carelessly and quickly, wrinkling the papers. “What does he want from her? Why hasn’t Bruce said anything about this?!”

“My theory?” Tim dragged on, moving his laptop towards the other two so they could stare at the screen. “He wanted nobody to know that Two-Face of all people is the legal guardian of his child.”

Displayed on the screen, a series of screenshots of Arkham’s archive, along with old pictures of newspapers' gossip columns. Tim then took out a file and opened it for their view.

A birth certificate and a legal guardianship. 

The legal guardianship was signed by two people, Bianca and Harvey Dent.

It came to Dick in pieces. A legal guardianship is a designation by the court that authorizes someone to care for an individual in place or absence of parents. Usually, a parent leaves in their will who is to have the guardianship of their child, but only if they left a will. If they don't leave a guardian in the will, the legal guardianship is made by the court.

Bianca (his sister's mother, how did he never put that together-) had signed a legal guardianship. Was it her will? Was it forged? Why wasn't Bruce signature in here? How did this even work?!

And Harvey Dent (his sister's uncle. That twisted and unstable crime lord, related to his sweet sister-) was signed as the guardian. Did he give the order himself? Did he threatened a judge? Did Bruce have it this whole time? Was Harvey trying to take his sister away from them?

The birth certificate had in a big, bold, exuberant font a name that kicked off a sick feeling in everyone that was in the room in different ways.

An empty hole beneath Dick’s feet.

A lack of air in Damian’s chest.

A heaviness in Tim’s shoulders.

The name (Y/N) Dent written on that paper had brought more questions than answers amongst the brothers. But only Dick said out loud the main question that was avoided from the beginning of this side discovery.

“Where the hell is Bruce?”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Bobby’s face was making her anxious.

He had been silent on the ride back from the hospital, driving his truck until they reached a parking lot in front of a McDonald’s establishment.

Because after Warren had to drag her shaking body out of the hospital, he insisted on getting something to eat and settling down before they could dive into whatever this conversation was going to be.

Between milkshakes and fries, Maximoff spilled out her story from the very beginning until that very day in the fastest rant known to man. The two boys had to intervene a couple of times, stopping her when her words came out too fast and jumbled to be able to be understood.

Maybe she was too excited to finally talk to someone else about it. Let go of that dragging guilt for keeping to herself what her reality was like.

And it did feel good. It felt so good to finally say it that she somehow felt lighter. As if a heavy weight had been taken off of her chest and let her lungs get filled with fresh, new air.

Of course, that was until Bobby and Warren hadn’t said a thing in the past two minutes.

Now? She could feel her skin drenched in cold sweat underneath her track jacket.

“...So,” Bobby breathed, blinking slowly as his hands hovered. “You died.”

“And Wayne died too,” Warren added, leaning forward through the gap between the front seats, also looking kinda lost.

Maximoff nodded carefully. “Yeah, Wayne did. Me? It’s complicated, but yeah.”

Bobby clasped his hands together, nodding in response while Warren just stared. “And your soul got shoved in Wayne’s body by your twin brother.”

“Billy, yeah.” She sighed, sinking into her seat.

“And this past weeks, you have been pretending like you have amnesia, adapting to live with a family that doesn’t know their real daughter died and got switched by someone else-”

“I don’t pretend I have amnesia, I do have it because I don’t really have my memories, and they kind of come in at random times. Plus, I don’t actually know these people-”

Warren talked over her, eyebrow and the lump in his back twitching at getting interrupted. “And Wayne’s spirit is helping you out on how to get past them while you also help her find some items that her mother left around because the personification of Death had made with her a deal, and she broke it?”

Maximoff bit her cheek from the inside, half of her body already out of her seat with every inch she took to sink deeper, and avoiding their looks. 

“...Sounds ridiculous when you say it like that.”

The teens went silent for a couple of minutes once again, letting the information sink in. Because it did sound ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But, then again, they live in a world where superheroes and aliens protect the planet from criminals to outworldly threats. Where people were born with powers and judged by them. Where someone could dress up as a bat and fight crime at night.

Why would a deal gone wrong with Death be ridiculous when their normal lives weren’t considered normal?

“You don’t believe me,” She muttered, giving them a side glance.

Bobby leaned back with a sigh, his eyes softening while he stared at her worried expression. Then, he shook his head. “If there’s a man who can create stuff with a green ring, and that the lost city of Atlantis is now part of the ONU, then I guess there's space to believe that Death is out there switching people's souls and collecting debts.”

That got an ugly laugh out of her, feeling her eyes starting to tear, but she blinked them away. “That was Billy, but I’ll take it.”

“And out of the places he could have shoved your soul into, Gotham was his best choice?” Warren chided with a groan, stretching his arms with a grimace while falling back in the backseat. 

“That’s true,” Bobby said. “Gotham is not a great place for mutants.”

The blonde teen then glared at him, eyes squinting. “And why exactly are you in Gotham? Last time I checked, Metropolis is open to mutants.”

That changed the mood to a tense one, as the cabin suddenly became colder and the windows fogged up from the inside. Maximoff sat up, sharing stares with Warren as Bobby took some deep breaths. The tips of his fingers were turning ice right in front of their eyes, but they went back to normal once again when Bobby seemed to calm down.

His trembling shoulders said otherwise.

“Bobby?” Maximoff carefully touched his shoulder. He looked at her with a wide stare, then back at a worried Warren.

“I- my parents aren’t-” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and gathering himself up. “My parents think differently. They thought that if I were off by myself for a while, it would just go away.”

“What do you mean?” She asked. But Warren had already caught on to what was going on. So, he took hold of the subject.

“What exactly do you know about mutants?” 

The girl bit her lip before shaking her head. “I haven’t heard of it before. Been back from the dead for, like, two or three weeks. Time is weird.”

“There’s a big difference,” Bobby butted in, eyes a vibrat blue that entrampted her attention. “Between metas and mutants. Metas are made on accidents. An experiment gone wrong, or exposed to some chemicals, and things like that. Mutants are born like this.”

“It’s in our DNA,” Warren explained. Which gained a small frown from Bobby. “We are born with a special gene in our blood, called the X Gene. The gene activates at random times, but there’s a higher chance that it activates during teenage years. That’s when it’s called a mutation, and it can be from physical to mental.”

“You've been saying ‘us’ and ‘ours’ a lot, Warren,” Bobby noted. 

Warren rolled his eyes. “Congratulations, you have officially caught me. As if I haven’t been obvious enough.”

“Wait,” She interrupted, a delighted glint in her eyes. “Does that mean the three of us are mutants? Holy shit-”

“I honestly expected that your accelerated perception also included your thought process.” He ribbed. “Guess I was hoping for too much.”

“Back on the subject,” Bobby interrupted before they could start to banter like always. “Since mutations can be dangerous, it scares people. It scares normal people to the point that they hate us.”

That did not sound nice at all.

“It’s a whole dilemma,” Warren grumbled. “The media loves to antagonize, and the heroes do little to nothing to help us because ‘it’s all about politics’. Mutants have been around forever, and they still treat us like nothing but dirt beneath their feet.”

Yeah, not nice at all.

Bobby then put his hand on Maximoff’s shoulder, noticing her stress over this discovery. “It has changed in the past few years. Some places are safe for people like us. There’s an institute back in New York for gifted children. I had a visit from them a while back, but my parents turned them away.”

Warren sighed. “Which takes us to Batman’s ‘No Meta’ rule, which includes mutants. It’s supposed to be a caution because of all the messed-up villains and shit that happens here, but not many of us can afford to leave.”

“Isn’t your father rich? Why hasn’t he moved you out of here?” Bobby looked puzzled.

“Looks like all of us have shitty families, Boo.” He shrugged with tight lips.

“But why? Why are they so afraid of us?” She questioned, feeling her throat tighten. 

“For many things,” said Warren. “But the main one is that they can’t control us. Just look at Westview, that’s a good reminder of why people fear us.”

That name tingled in the back of her head. 

Westview. 

“What happened in Westview?”

Why does it mean so much?

“Some say it was a failed training experiment from the Justice League.” Bobby uttered. “A small town was encased in a red dome for weeks. But nobody from the inside has talked or given interviews about it because the government got involved quickly. Some of the League members also worked alongside them, but there was barely any news on it.”

“Of course, until people started to recall that there’s a well-known mutant that specializes in red domes. They even went as far as to call the whole thing ‘The Hex’. A bit stereotypical if you ask me.” Warren scoffed, moving his shoulders uncomfortably against the seat.

The Hex. Red Dome. Westview.

The Hex. Red Dome. Westview.

The Hex. Red Dome. Westview.

The Hex. Red Dome. Westview.

The Hex.

Red Dome.

Westview.

"Wanda, you’ve never been up against another witch before. Did you know there’s an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold? That’s the book of the damned. “The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven, no need for incantation.'"

"I’m not a witch. I don’t cast spells. No one taught me magic!"

"Now, do you see? You tied your family to this twisted world, and now one can’t exist without the other."

"Save Westview or save your family."

"Mom! Help!"

“The Scarlet Witch.” She muttered. The boys looked at her in disbelief.

“...Are you supposed to know that?” Bobby hesitated.

“Guys, that’s it!” She suddenly yelled, startling the boys with her sudden outburst. Eyes wide in euphoria, as a grin widened on her lips, and her knees stabbed the seat. Helping her turn to look back at the scared blonde while gripping the head cushion.

“Wanda Maximoff!” She said, her heart pounding against her chest. “She is the Scarlet Witch, right?!”

“Hey, how do you know-” But Bobby was interrupted with a gleeful squeal.

“That’s my mom! My mom is the Scarlet Witch! I remember!” She cackled with glassy eyes. Bobby and Warren tried to set her down, but she was literally vibrating on the seat, making the truck tremble and making them scream. It attracted certain looks from the outside, the night already falling over the city, but people minded their own business and continued with their things.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“It was hidden for a reason, Damian!”

“Don’t yell at him!” Dick yelled, getting right in Bruce’s face with a scowl, shoving a finger in his chest. “This is crucial information, and you kept it quiet! For years!”

“Why would you need to know?” Bruce questioned in a harsh tone as he walked to the other side of the living room. “It was better for everyone. For her!”

The boys and Bruce had been at each other’s throats for the past hour. Not only had they found that Bruce was holed up in his cave, but also wasting his time on the missing cases instead of focusing on the real problem at hand under his roof. Dick and Tim had dragged him out to the living room, confronting him about the missing documents in Dent’s file and the letters that had been sent by the man.

It fell short to say that Bruce was beyond livid.

“Then why not burn them?!” Tim pestered, shoving the papers on the coffee table with Damian standing behind his spot on the sofa. “It would have been easier if you didn’t want anyone to find them!”

Bruce glared at the boys, deep bags under his eyes and hair messed up, as if he had been dragging his fingers through it over and over again. Even his clothes looked disheveled.

He looked like a mess.

His gaze diverted to the silent presence by the entry of the room. Cassandra stood there, with an odd expression on her face, as she decided to enter the room and gain the attention of her siblings.

“It’s loud…” She said. Dick and Damian had the decency to look slightly ashamed, while Tim continued to glare at Bruce.

Once again, his sister had proved to be more than meets the eye. So many years, hiding this part of herself. A part that Bruce had tried to make disappear by sheer force of will. Another missing equation that added more to her enigma.

What else was she hiding? What else was she keeping under wraps? What more could he find deep inside her chest and mind?

“I’m sorry, Cassandra,” Bruce muttered, walking towards her with a hand going down his face and scratching his stubble. “Your brothers are in trouble over some documents-”

Dick butted in, tone rising. “Don’t you dare sweep this under a rug!”

“Conversation is over for now, Dick,” Bruce grunted.

But Dick refused to switch the subject. “Why is Harvey her legal guardian? I thought her mother was dead for years, and just today I found out that not only did you keep her identity a secret, but that it’s Harvey Dent’s sister?”

“What exactly did you want me to do?!” His father hissed. “Let everyone know that she was related to him? That her mother went insane and tried to carve into her skin with a burning iron? That Bianca’s memory would be tainted because of Harvey’s choices, and that our child would be tainted with the name of Dent?! I did what I had to do as her father-”

“So lock them away and throw away the key, right?”

Those sarcastic words, accompanied by a watery edge, made the five members snap their heads to the person standing in the hall.

Carrying plenty of shopping bags in each hand, posture straight, and glaring at Bruce with red rimmed eyes, stood the girl of the moment.

Cassandra had jumped a few steps back, pale in the face, and clutching the back of the sofa while Dick came forward, already wiping up a wide smile. “Hey, hun! You got home quite late!”

His words fell flat because of the intense, bitter glares the young girl was given to the suddenly solemn man. Bruce took a step towards her, feeling encouraged to take a few more when she didn’t move from her spot.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry you had to-”

“Are you?” She whispered.

Bruce looked lost for a moment before nodding, raising his hands to reach out to her. “Of course I am. I’m so-”

“Or are you just sorry you got caught?”

He froze, hands in the air. Fingers just centimeters away from grasping her shoulders. Her dark eyes spilling with tears as a mocking sound trembled out of her lips.

“Y’know,” She sniffled, wiping the back of her wrist at her nose. “From the moment I set foot here, there have been many things that I have taken notice of. Especially after the whole accident thing. One big example is the lack of pictures.”

She tilted her head to look at the rest of them, who hovered by the sofa while standing up and staring while gaping at the scene before them. “Many portraits. Many pictures. Of everyone.”

A shaky chuckle slipped, gaze returning to Bruce’s frozen expression. “But not a single one of me.”

The way that she said ‘me’ left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth.

“Do I look too much like her? Like them? Does it haunt you so much that you can’t bear to see me in the eye? Too afraid to face your mistakes?”

“Hun, lets take a walk-” Dick tried to intervine, fingers trembling at his side. 

But she pointed her finger at him, bags rattling as her shoulders shook, as more tears spilled down her face. 

“Don’t you dare act all high and mighty, Dick. You never cared until I stopped caring.”

Her words made him click his mouth shut, taking a step back with his shoulders dropping down.

 The girl moved a step forward, tear tracks making her look younger in Bruce’s eyes. As if he were standing before that seven-year-old girl who refused to cry at the police station all those years back. Who laughed after going through the most traumatic moment in her young life.

Left without a mother. Without a home. Only him as her protector.

Because, even if the papers said that she was Harvey’s in the eyes of the law, Bruce’s blood coursed through her veins. He had known so from the moment the test had turned positive, maybe even earlier.

That little girl, who never shed a tear, stood before him with eyes filled with anger and tears.

“I hope you got what you wanted. That one day you’ll be able to admit out loud how much you fucked up, and that that day, I will not be here to hear you say it.”

Nothing moved.

Nothing breathed.

Bruce wasn’t sure when he snapped out of it. At one moment, she was there before him, and at the next, she was gone. And so was everyone else. His chest contracted deeply, a dry sob craking through his throat while his shaking hand came up to find his face wet with tears.

Deep in the manor, a girl sobbed beside her bed. Her dead companion soothed her by humming an old song and caressing her hair. 

Maximoff repeated the same words over and over in her head.

‘I will get us out. Both of us.’

‘No more tears.’

‘Not for them.’

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“Could you repeat them? Again?”

“Do I have too?” Maximoff whined, head against the library table the three of them had been using for the past free hour. 

The weekend had passed by way too slowly for her liking. 

Apart from the outburst she had with Bruce in the hall that night, everyone seemed to let her be for the remaining day before going back to classes once more. 

No clingy and intrusive siblings. 

No overbearing father banging on her door.

Just her, Wayne and a shit ton of investigating on their vessel quest and studing for that demonic algebra exam. 

The perfect way to end such an eventful weekend.

“Wheel of fortune, find the ashes of The Moon beneath the Four of Wands, get The Sun its Hierophant, and reunite with the Reversed Tower.” She recited with a deadpan tone, lifting her head and leaning against the fancy wood with her chin, staring up at Warren, who stood by the bookshelf, searching for another book that could help them.

“That’s gotta be the weirdest tarot spread I ever heard of,” Bobby mumbled from behind his laptop, also helping out in their search.

Right, Tarot cards.

After telling Wayne about what happened at the hospital, she instantly clocked out her mother’s words as references to tarot cards. She had practically thrown her old tarot deck right in Maximoff’s hands.

Of course, that very day, she made a FaceTime call with Warren and Bobby, giving this last one a heart attack when he managed to see Wayne hovering on the back before to connection fell on their side.

A great introduction and a great discovery on the extent of Wayne’s abilities.

She had lately been more visible. Appearing on corners, standing behind walls, or hanging upside down on the ceiling with a shrill laugh that cracked the windows and rattled the doors.

Maximoff had adapted quickly to waking up with black hair tickling her face and getting spooked every time she turned around.

Back to the current situation.

Maximoff had taken any type of occult book found in the manor’s library and shoved them in her backpack. That morning, she had gone through the most awkward car ride in her short life, because Damian couldn’t stop staring at her with that weird, sad look that unsettled her to hell and back. 

Getting used to his sour expression and glares was easy, but this? She didn’t know how to handle this. He even seemed to try to say something to her before she got out of the car, but words failed him, and she was in a hurry to leave the situation as quickly as possible. She left the car without giving him the time to talk, running up to the entrance of the academy without giving the boy a chance to talk.

Then, once the three teens had gone through their first class with Mr. Logan, they had invaded the school’s library, taking advantage of their free period since their teacher was absent for the day to do their own investigation on the vision Bianca had given Maximoff.

And, as it was obvious, they were not doing very well.

“It says here,” Bobby read. “That the first card is supposed to represent the signifier of the querent, meaning, whoever is getting the reading.”

“Isn’t supposed to be past, present, and future?” Warren asked, sliding across the table another book to pick up another.

Maximoff shook her head. “That’s a different spread. Tarot cards use spreads depending on what you are going to ask. It can go from one card to almost ten cards. The more cards you use, the deeper the insights into the situation.”

“But we don’t know what spread was used, or the question that was asked.” Bobby sighed.

“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way?” Warren shrugged, looking at his friends. “We could search what each card means first and then come up with conclusions.”

“That could work-”

“What are you three doing in here?”

Mr. Logan’s voice startled them out of their conversation, Bobby flailing around with his book until it fell on the floor, and gaining a hush from the librarian who was nearby.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, staring at them with suspicion until Maximoff got up from her seat and snatched up the book that had fallen from the ground. “Just trying to summon a demon. Y’know, teenage stuff.”

The boys tried to make her stop saying anything else, Bobby shaking his head with an awkward smile while Warren hid behind his book. But Mr. Logan simply grunted, rolling his eyes once she grinned at him. “If you are going to do that, do it outside. Seeing all three of you in silence and still is making me nervous.”

The teens grinned and laughed, sharing glances and nods while starting to pick up their books and things. 

Good, Maximoff was growing restless from staying still for so long.

“Before you leave,” Mr. Logan said to the girl, extending a plastic bag he had been holding onto. “I think this is yours, bub.”

She blinked at the bag, switching her gaze between it and Mr. Logan. He nodded at her, lightly moving it side to side, letting her know it was alright to take it. 

Maximoff grabbed the bag, brought it closer to her chest, and opened it slowly to see what it held inside. Her eyes widened, snapping her head up to look at Logan, who shrugged as he leaned to the side against one of the big wooden bookshelves.

“Maybe you’ll find these more resistant.”

Warren approached her from the back, looking over her shoulder while Bobby leaned at her side to also see the contents of the bag.

Shoes. Running shoes. The base of them was white with two green stripes on the side. The soles were made out of a material that they weren’t able to recognize, but they looked expensive.

She took them out of the bag, feeling their weight in her hands.

They were extremely light.

“I can’t accept this,” she said softly, looking at the man with disbelief. “This is too much-”

“They’re a gift, kid.” He insisted while crossing his arms. “No other shoes will last like those.”

“I could-” She hesitated, looking back at the shoes. “I can’t take them.”

“How about this?” Logan offered, the corner of his mouth deepening in amusement. “Give them a try on the field, and if they are not comfortable, I’ll take them back. Deal?”

She looked at Warren and Bobby, both of them also taken aback by Logan’s gift. Bobby shrugged with a smile, with Warren giving the man a raised eyebrow, but also shrugging at her. 

‘Why not? It’s worth the shot.’

Maximoff grinned, grabbed her bag, and took off with her friends, who were trying to catch up to her before they lost her in the halls while laughing and yelling. Logan stayed behind, smirking to himself. He took out his phone and sent a quick text to the first chat that popped up in the Messenger app.

‘Hank’s research worked. Tell him to make more of those.’

A message popped up quickly in response. As expected of him.

‘Hope they don’t go destroying shoes like I did at that age. I’ll have to get Hank to make me a pair of those, too ⚡️’

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Essex Corporation: 10:00 PM

A big screen, divided into smaller ones, streamed a series of footage from security cameras. All of them from different angles and rooms, focusing on the figures that moved around.

They all wore a thick yellow collar with a blinking red light in the front middle of it. Along with gray scrubs, whose fabrics varied in different states.

Burned, dirty, wrinkled, scratched, torn. 

And of course, all of them were kids.

Missing kids.

“What are the statistics?” A growly and raspy voice imposed. 

Before the screens, two men stood. One of them was wearing a lab coat and held two files, his identification card blurred by the light as it hung from the small pocket of his coat. The other man was dressed way differently.

His sickly white skin looked like it belonged to a corpse, clashing with his black leather suit. An odd back piece that looked like it was floating behind him, it resembled a cape that was split into thick stripes, and it fell down to the ground. Black hair slicked back, exposing bright red eyes and razor-sharp teeth.

“The earthquake mutant is still at the top of the list,” the assistant said, pointing at the top left screen, where a teen boy with long brown hair trashed his room. Slamming against the walls and screaming. “He still manages to use his mutation lightly even while wearing the retention collars.”

“And the new targets?”

The assistant handed him the files, opening them for his boss to see.

One had pictures of a boy. The other one had pictures of a girl. They were all taken from different positions, but still in the same place. 

The same mall.

The man in black took one of the pictures and examined it up close. The lens was focused on the girl, blurred by what he could blame on her moving too fast for the camera to capture. The boy, with his back to the camera, kneeling on the ground and reaching to her.

“Names?” He drawled.

“The boy is Robert Drake. We suspect he has a mutation related to ice. He doesn’t have any registration at the clinics.”

“And the girl?”

“(Y/N) Wayne. Probably speed-related. Also, no registration.”

The sinister man suddenly grinned, the sharp nail of his thumb tracing the blur of the picture. 

“You know?” He confided to the other man. “I have always wanted to have a speedster in my collection. Their bodies are fascinating.”

“Bring her first.”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Author's Note: Here's the new chapter!! Sorry for taking so long to publish, last week was insane. Fell down the stairs, got stressed by auditions and studying for a physics exam. Any way, insane week. Let me know what y'all think of this chapter!! Can't wait to see what everyone comes up with 👀✨ Lots of hugs and love, GG✨

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