wrightrpagency-blog

[wrightrpagency-blog]

Hiatus

So obviously I haven’t been on in *squints at archive* over a week, but I guess I’m going to make it official that I’m going on hiatus? Probably not going to post anything until at least the 18th due to general stress, muse issues, etc. etc.

[wrightrpagency-blog]

snackoosandscience

“I’m a scientist, not a performer,” Ema scoffed. She liked the idea of being able to pull on a mask so she could zip away from a bad situation or lend a hand or whatever, but she didn’t really know if she was up for what Trucy was implying just yet. “Do you have powers or something that I don’t know about? Because this is a solo operation.” If there was going to be an operation, probably. What if somebody got hurt?

“You don’t have to be a performer to know how to do a quick change, it’s a versatile skill. What if you’re, like... at a party or something, and then need to go do science really quick?” She pointed out. “Powers? No, not unless you count keen powers of observation, or being a magician... or magically adorable! But neither of those talents is much help for fighting crime,” she admitted. “So don’t worry miss I work alone, I’m happy to stay behind the scenes.”

[wrightrpagency-blog]

justicedefended

           Apollo snorts, shaking his head.      “ What if I am allergic to music? You don’t know if I got a rash or not from that concert you dragged me to, I could have had a delayed allergic reaction. Had hives you couldn’t see. “      What an entirely stupid, pointless thing to start bickering over — but Apollo’s eager for conversation where he isn’t usually, and it might have everything to do with not having Trucy around to max out his pathetically short socialization meter for what now feels like much too long. He’d missed her, though it was going to be a while still before he could forgive himself for walking out on her like… like her father had, or how he’d had done to him, in his own youth.

           All good things in time.

            Or something along those lines.

           He follows her ever - helpful pointer finger to the cabinet where the bread’s usually stored, pulling open the door only to frown at the lack of a loaf there.      “ Looks like ramen it is, “  he sighs, crestfallen. Of course he avoided going home to his own cabinets of Cup Noodles and dry pasta to end up eating ramen at the Wright’s.      Should have known better to get my hopes up.      Eyes sweep to the magical garbage disposal atop the counter before wordlessly retrieving several packages of ramen from where they always are. They’re set beside the stove and he sets out to find a pot, filling it with water and clanking it down onto a burner before picking up one of the red - bordered packages to read the instructions on the back like he’s done possibly thousands of times before.

            It’s chucked back onto the others and another look, this time with brows drawn and lips pursed, is directed at Trucy when she suddenly back out on her earlier vow to beat up his purple headache in his stead.      “ Load of help you are. What made you suddenly change you mind? “      He looks at her, waiting, until his subconscious and his caffeinated nerves have him set out to tidy the kitchen, hands straightening things out around the sink that don’t really need the extra straightening and clearing the bothersome 0:03 stuck in fluorescence numbers on the microwave’s timer.      “ I’d beat up a guy for you, you know. “      He gives himself pause, cringing. Had he worded that weird? He felt like he had. Was he implying something between himself and Klavier—?      “ You know what I mean. “

“You didn’t,” Trucy replies, ever confident. If Apollo had gotten some sort of allergic reaction from the concert, she’d have heard about it, or at the very least would be hearing about it in something more concrete than the hypotheticals about rashes and hives he was tossing her way now.

From her perch on the counter, she’s mildly disappointed, but not remotely surprised to see the utter lack of bread in the cabinet. She briefly considers suggesting that they just go to Edloons if they’re going to have noodles anyway, but stops short of actually saying it. She’s only just gotten Apollo back, after all, and pestering him to go out for noodles with her doesn’t seem like as safe of a proposition as it had as recently as a few weeks ago. 

“Google,” she answers simply. A text comes in before she has the chance to elaborate and she looks down, angling the phone away from Apollo’s line of sight before opening the message and typing out a reply.

Klavier: Do not tell him, bitte. 

Trucy: Relax, I didn’t 🤐 Trucy: You could always just tell him yourself, though 🤔 Trucy: Or who knows? Maybe he’ll look it up 😇

“You should really look up the stuff he says sometime,” she says as hits send, looking up to flash Apollo a grin. It’s fun, knowing something he doesn’t. “Especially if you’re going to go jumping to conclusions about what he’s saying otherwise. Hasn’t being a lawyer taught you anything about assumptions?” 

Speaking of assumptions... “Who said anything about me needing you to beat up a guy for me?”

[wrightrpagency-blog]

snackoosandscience

Ema could not be absolutely certain that Trucy knew about her powers, but it sounded like way too much of a coincidence otherwise. She could not think of anything else that would lead to a hilarious misunderstanding. If Trucy knew, though, that either meant that Apollo had spilled or Trucy had been watching her. She could get Apollo to tell her which it was later; Trucy was like a cheerful brick wall. Leaning in as well, Ema murmured, “I don’t need a costume. How is that going to make it any easier to mask my identity. It’s not easy to surreptitiously change clothes. I’m fine.” Not that in control of her super speed, but whatever.

“You mean you don’t know how to pull off a quick change?” Trucy asked, startled. “It’s a good thing you have me to teach you, then! Being able to surreptitiously change clothes is one of the most important skills a superhero can have! Don’t worry though - with your power set and my training, you’ll be great at it in no time!”

[wrightrpagency-blog]

justicedefended

            Before Klavier’s so kind to offer Apollo anything more off of his plate he’s already given the sliced sausage another tentative poke, taking a second bite for himself. The combination of textures is definitely something, even if a solid opinion is eluding Apollo and his taste buds.       “ Hardly need all of it?statements like that can make someone worried, you know. You need to eat your own dinner. ”       So pipes up the attorney whose only just left the other man’s food alone to reclaim the filet the prosecutor bit from. Apollo gives it a look, eyes and nose scrunching, before munching into it. Also a touch too vehement, like there’s a point being made by continuing where Klavier left off. He scavenged it off the tabletop he’s not sure gets a thorough wipe down until closing time, e’s not about to leave it to waste in the corner of his basket.

           Eating gives him time to ponder about more relevant things than bloody Aces: like Klavier’s peculiar response to the question of him being a lightweight. The red highlight has disappeared and it’s not consciously that he stares, trying to figure out the not - lie, though Klavier’s face is certainly something worth looking at even when not trying hard to figure him out. Especially when Klavier smiles like that, in a way that doesn’t intuitively irritate him but rather sends a jolt through Apollo that he doesn’t like. Shouldn’t like, perhaps, because it’s far too exhilarating for the likes of him, who has learned the hard way that its always best to live erring on the side of caution.

           “ I’m – I’m fine, ” he bluffs, shaking his head to clear it out though hearing his first name does the trick and then some, brain going white and pleasantly fuzzy. Almost makes him miss the lights dimming overhead and throughout the bar as something that’s real, showtime approaching, and not just a trick of his mind that keeps bugging out whenever acknowledged as his namesake and not his forehead by present company. Apollo’s nerves twittering with excitement on behalf of Trucy and her show and Klavier being here to see it and for Trucy to see him.      “ Sorry. Spaced out for a moment, remembered something. It’s not important right now… but thanks. ”      Apollo’s not the physical sort – nowhere near as tactile as Klavier and likely never will be with those who are only friends or less than that – but he briefly lays his hand on the prosecutor’s forearm, providing it with a reassuring squeeze before drawing away.      “ For, um, caring. You know. “

           Fingers curl into a fist immediately after, feeling awkward for bothering; for touching when not blatantly necessary to console.      “ You’re not as much as of a diva as you make pretend at your concerts. You’re practically letting me write your schedule for you. ”      Another joke loaded with too much overlooked truth, Apollo attempting a smile, though both it and his jab are weak with distraction.      “ I’m a late eater, myself. After practice’s fine. ”      Voice dips into an intentional whisper, respecting Trucy’s highlighted entrance onto the small stage that still takes up a good portion of the Wonder Bar, ever dedicated to displaying the local talent in order to pull in more business for itself.

“Ach - I did not mean it like that, I assure you. I fully intend to eat most of it - I only meant that you are welcome to as much as you’d like,” Klavier explains, tone contrite. “I apologize for worrying you,” he adds as a hint of a smile returns. Apollo hadn’t actually said that he was one of those people who might be worried by comments like those, but it’s the logical conclusion to draw. And even if he’s wrong, he can most likely pass his appreciation of Apollo’s concern off as some sort of teasing.

He loses his train of thought as he looks on, startled to see Apollo not only pick up the filet, but take a bite from it. Apparently he needn’t have worried about its fall to the table stopping the defense attorney from getting enough to eat. There’s a... vehemence to it that startles him more than the action itself. It almost looks as though Apollo’s attempting to prove some sort of point to him, though he can’t for the life of him imagine what. He casts the absurd notion from his mind, shifting his focus to more pressing matters - namely, Apollo’s wellbeing.

He relaxes somewhat when Apollo assures him that he’s fine. There’s a nagging feeling that there may be something more to it that the defense attorney isn’t letting on, but this isn’t the time or place to press him on the matter. The lights have dimmed after all, a sure sign that Trucy’s show is about to begin. And even if that weren’t the case, he’s not entirely certain he can trust himself to form a coherent sentence after the wholly unexpected show of affection on Apollo’s part. Physical contact and thanks for genuinely caring bring surprise his expression, which lingers as he answers, “Of course.” He knows those two words alone aren’t nearly enough to convey the extent to which he cares, but perhaps that’s for the best.

In order to compose himself, he resolves not to make so much as a peep until the show comes to an end - only to find himself breaking his resolution moments later, a chuckle escaping his lips at Apollo’s comment. Leave it to him to notice the difference in behavior without so much as a question about the motive behind the shift. Inside of the courtroom or out, some things never seemed to change.

“Ach, I’ve been found out,” Klavier teases, though he supposes that’s only half true. “Try not to tell anyone, hm? I have a reputation to uphold,” he adds, voice dropping to a whisper as the show begins, flashing a smile and a wink at Apollo before turning to face the stage.

Trucy’s show is truly something else. Klavier had always known she was a natural performer, but actually seeing her in her element is something else entirely. Preoccupied though he is at the show’s outset, he finds himself nearly totally enthralled in a matter of minutes, thoughts of Apollo relegated to the back of his mind. Well, almost. Every time Trucy pulls off a particularly impressive feat, he can’t help but glance over to see his companion’s reaction, hoping to catch a glimpse of a smile.

[wrightrpagency-blog]

unable-to-rise

“But what if Child Protective Services come and visit!? They see you sleeping on the couch they’ll take you away from me!!” Phoenix gasped, managing to cry on cue like he did in his theatre days. “I don’t think I could handle losing my little girl!!”

“You’re bluffing,” Trucy informed him with a frown “child protective services isn’t going to come visit for a few days at the earliest, so we’ll just have to make sure to get me a bed before then!"

[wrightrpagency-blog]

justicedefended

           “ You’re not a lightweight, are you? “      The curious dusting of color across perfect cheekbones prompts the question once Apollo’s sure his own face has cooled enough to look at his companion again. The attorney cants his head, eyes sweeping from Klavier’s face to the man’s drink and back again. It’d be an opportune moment to smirk, to tease, but the odd —jealousy something — holds him back, and his expression remains one of passive inquiry, a single brow quirking upwards but not much else of his face changing. Or telling.

           This is before the moment’s passed, of course. Before they’ve moved away from the awkwardness that’s Apollo trying to be ‘smooth’ ( only to end up confused by himself, ) and into new seats. This is a friendly night out. Not the time to fixate on the prosecutor’s blush and what non - alcoholic methods there may exist to see it again or not - so - plastic smiles that make his chest tight and heart accelerate, suddenly claustrophobic in the space left between his ribs.

           Apollo thought he was over this, but apparently he’s wrong. Like he’s been about a lot of things in the last year.

           So very, very, very wrong, because when Klavier bows his head and takes the fish with his mouth and not his fingers, Apollo can only stare and hope his eyes aren’t bulging. It’s bad enough that he’s burning up so hot that his own mouth’s gone too dry to say anything right away.      “ C-can’t you— “ he starts, sputters, gives up, after fumbling and dropping the filet onto the table. Then he tries again, because he’s no quitter,      “ don’t you know how to eat like a normal human being?! “      For all of his indignation, he doesn’t actually scream — he hisses, eyes scrunching and ears burning red. His blood pressure’s spiked high, so high, that he might be at risk of having a fatal aneurysm right there in the middle of the Wonder Bar. Thoughts of times and practices have fled from him in his embarrassingly flustered state. Words do, too, after stuttering, scarlet, through his outburst. Truly, Apollo feels abandoned by all but Klavier and the blond’s gentle urgings.  

           So with the other’s insistence being the only thing he can hear through his brain’s static, he uses his pilfered fork to give the Currywurst an unnecessarily vehement stab, but not before salvaging his fish and depositing it back into his basket. Chewing and swallowing proves a welcome distraction, gives him ample time to recover from… himself, and overreacting to the bizarre intimacy that comes with feeding someone whose not only someone, but this ridiculous European man, with his ridiculous customs and personality that invokes too many —  oft times contradictory — feelings in Apollo for him to keep track of, and much less successfully make sense of.    

            “ …huh. It’s… not. Bad? I’ve never… had anything that tastes like this. “      The words are stilted, and his shoulders squared, but speech and body begin to unfurl and settle a little more naturally, once he makes a mental note to pretend he’s not made as much of a fool of himself as he actually has so far tonight. He sets aside his plastic cutlery and reaches for a napkin from a dispenser conveniently set in the middle of the table, wiping at his mouth and hands before hauling back the topic he let get away from him earlier, when he’d had a certain someone literally eating out of his hand.      “ I’m supposed to get off work at five,”      except lately he hadn’t made an effort to show at the office for but a few hours a day, if that,      “ so by six? Seven? We can have dinner first, or after. It’s up to you. Whatever doesn’t get in the way of your own schedule, Prosecut— Klavier. “

           Apollo trips up again on using the prosecutor’s given name, but only because his mind’s switched tracks to how to ask for extra shifts at another job of his in order to afford meals in exchange for lessons. As amazing and gratifying as it would be to suddenly receive an influx of clients in need of his services, the chances of that occurring are�� they don’t seem very high, even if his is one of the faces associated with the successful Jurist trial, there’s still so much bullshit to wade through, and somewhere beneath it all his reputation lies, a thing sullied by unfortunate associations and his own obsessive phobia of a forged Ace.

           Would he understand, if I told him about it? Dark eyes linger on Klavier, Apollo pensive.

            His brain provides a jeery ‘hah! No!’ but his heart is a stupid, hopeful thing that whispers the opposite — not that he plans to ever bring it up, to present company or… anyone. Clay’s not privy to this volatile truth, and he’s not sure Trucy knows the fraudulent origins of the card he picked from her then presented in his first open trial. Some things you just have to take to the grave with you, and unwittingly submitting forged evidence into a court of law isn’t the only secret that will be accompanying Apollo on his ride across the River Styx.

           Things are better between everyone, just by never talking about it.

“A lightweight? Nein, not particularly,” Klavier admits, though he knows doing so could cost him dearly. After all, Apollo knowing the dusting of pink across his cheeks is not due to low alcohol tolerance means that the defense attorney will be left to contemplate the other possible reasons for the shift in his complexion. Somehow, it fails to occur to him to ask Apollo the same question.

Seated at the new table, Klavier raises an eyebrow at Apollo’s rather extreme reaction to his chosen method of fish sampling. The little voice in the back of his head that sometimes likes to chant Fehler! Fehler! Fehler! (Mistake! Mistake! Mistake!) takes over, front and center. He's such an Idiot. He’d thought he was being cheeky, that it would be fun to tease Apollo, but the indignation he’s witnessing seems far worse than that. One wrong move could have catastrophic results, indeed.

And yet...

Well, it said something that he was able to elicit such a strong reaction from the defense attorney over a move so simple, did it not? Idiot, a strong reaction only means he could feel so strongly about this as to never speak to you again, the nagging voice in his head reminds him. Poor Klavier, all alone, a second, colder voice sneers, and a pleasant smile returns to Klavier’s lips, the cheerful facade back in place. It takes a second longer for the terrifying swirl of thoughts to be securely forced back to the far corner of his mind, but he manages, inviting Apollo to try the Currywurst rather than attempting to answer his question about eating like a normal person. It seems mostly rhetorical anyway, and he needs to get the conversation back to something he has a semblance of control over. He hopes the relief doesn’t show on his face when Apollo follows along with his suggestion and gives the Currywurst a try. 

“It is certainly unique, nein?” He supplies, chuckling at Apollo’s rather tentative reaction to the dish. “Feel free to have as much as you’d like; I certainly do not need all of it.” He picks up a fry and tosses it into his mouth, using the time required to chew and swallow the bite to further calm himself down. He hasn’t spoiled things, somehow. Not yet. If he had, Apollo wouldn’t be offering up potential times to be picked up for piano lessons, right? Now he just needs to ensure that his lessons are worthwhile and entertaining enough to prevent Apollo from feeling the need to seek lessons elsewhere. He can do this. Maybe.

Klavier.

There’s a shift in his plastered-on smile as it’s replaced with something warmer, more genuine. He relaxes again, the pressure he’d heaped upon himself only moments ago forgotten for the time being. Evidence is everything, after all, and  if Apollo’s calling him by his first name, then that was evidence that his selected manner of food sampling hadn’t been unforgivably awful. 

“6 would be wunderbar,” he finds himself saying, despite the fact that he’s usually at the office far later than that. Usual habits don’t negate the truth that it would be wonderful to leave early for an evening with Apollo, though, and it’s not like he doesn’t have the ability to do so. Herr Edgeworth has been all but begging for him to take some time off (‘or at least leave the office at a reasonable hour,’ he’d said last time), and he’s certain the chief prosecutor will be thrilled to see him obeying that request. 

“I have grown rather accustomed to eating dinner on the later side, so I wouldn’t mind saving that for after the lesson. If you’d prefer to eat beforehand, though, that would be perfectly alright as well.” He knows the answer is ridiculous - he can hear it as the words leave his mouth - but even if Apollo doesn’t want to get in the way of his schedule, he can’t help but go out of his way to ensure that the defense attorney is as comfortable with the arrangement as is humanly possible, his own schedule be damned. His warm smile remains for a moment, then gives way to something less certain as he takes in the shift in Apollo’s expression.

“Apollo?” he asks, the defense attorney’s first name somehow feeling simultaneously foreign and familiar on his tongue as he tests it out. It isn’t the first time he’s called Apollo by his first name, of course, but there’s a hesitancy to it now, alongside a deliberateness that there hadn’t been back at the cafe. “Is everything alright?” A stupid question, really, but one that demands asking nonetheless.

[wrightrpagency-blog]

snackoosandscience

Ema had not seen Trucy since she had woken up from the nine month coma, but this was not how she had expected the reunion would occur. Her instincts told her to run the hell away, but she had to fight those lest she get sent to an evil science lab or something.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ema mumbled, awkwardly patting Trucy on the shoulder after the girl pulled away from her. Overcompensating did not suit Ema in the least, and neither did this baffling conversation. “Costume? I don’t need help for my Halloween costume. What are you talking about?” How she hoped this was about Halloween.

“Not your Halloween costume, silly!” Trucy countered, shaking her head. She paused, looking around to make sure no one was nearby before leaning in a little closer to whisper “your other one. You know, to keep your identity a secret? When you’re zooming around? You are going to wear one, right? You can’t just rely on being too fast for anyone to see! There could be cameras!”

[wrightrpagency-blog]

SHIPPING INFO!!!

Answer the following for your muse so people know how shipping works on your blog.

(Oh man a character wasn’t specified when I got tagged in this so  buckle up for a ton of answers!)

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER?: Klapollo for Klavier & Apollo (but I’m up for other ships for either)! Uhhhhhh. I don’t think I have an OTP for any of the others, actually. TruPearl is my favorite Trucy ship though, so maybe that?

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO WRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?:  I mean it’s not so much what I’m willing to write as what my muses are willing to do tbh? I’m willing to throw them into virtually any situation to begin with, but only if it’s one I feel like they’d somehow wind up in? And I don’t control how they respond to being in that situation? This isn’t helpful at all, is it.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?: I think the general rule is supposed to be that the younger is supposed to be at least seven years older than half the age of the older one? But bigger gaps than that can be ok depending on circumstances. On the other hand, even gaps smaller than that weird me out if they knew each other well while the younger one was a child & the other was an adult (it might be ok if the younger one was like... late teens when they met if enough time has passed?). I don’t really know how to explain it.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?: That really depends on how ‘selective’ is defined? There has to be chemistry between our characters (our particular iterations of said characters), but I’m open to that chemistry coming from nearly any pairing, so.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NS/FW?: Until they... stop being safe for work. Idk what to tell u.

WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?:  This is by no means an exhaustive list, but generally speaking I’d be down to ship: Trucy with Pearl, Jinxie, Athena, Wocky (age/verse dependent), or anyone else closeish to her age who I feel like she’d get along with. And she’s very good at getting along with people.

Apollo with... guys? Idk, I haven’t really thought about non-Klavier ships for him much. Blackquill could be interesting?

Klavier with Ema, depending on the circumstances. He’d another one who could be fun to ship with all kinds of characters too though! Like... hm. 

Ema with Kay or Franziska; possibly Klavier or Nahyuta? I think she tends to prefer women, but she also prefers science over humans, so who even knows.

Vera with... hm. Well I thought my muse for her would be a lesbian (could ship with Kay, Ema, or some other third lady), but chaos brain is telling me Wocky, so do with that what you will.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?: You don’t have to ask to have your character be interested in mine, but I’d prefer some sort of ooc confirmation if you’re interested in making said feelings possibly reciprocated? Idk I’m a compulsive planner/plotter but I realize not everyone is.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?: ALL THE DAMN TIME. (Platonic plots are fine too though, I swear!)

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?: Somewhere in between? I get really hyped about ships (see above), but at the same time I feel like I’d probably get bored if all of my plots had to do with shipping? Variety is the spice of life!

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?: Yes.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?: Klapollo!

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?: drop me a message! There are other ways too probably, but that’s the best one.

Tagged by: @justicedefended

Tagging: @theburgermaster @karmicbutterfly @sweetie-pies-and-circuses WHOEVER WANTS TO IDK GO DO YOUR THING FRIENDS

[wrightrpagency-blog]

join us!

Hey, party people! Ema is hosting a very informal and probably chaotic Halloween party at her apartment today. More info below the cut if you need it.

Keep reading

[wrightrpagency-blog]

@snackoosandscience

“Ema!” Trucy called out, beaming. She darted over to the investigator and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” she pulled away as she continued “so, do you have a costume yet? Because if you don’t, I know someone who can help you with that... two someones, actually. One of them’s me!”

[wrightrpagency-blog]

justicedefended

           “ Hm. “      He should have started with still life art. Attempting to draw and paint with his eyes and not with his brain as his introduction to this creative medium probably would have been easier, in retrospect. Damn vision being twenty - twenty in hindsight.     “ I thought watercolors would be easy. Or relaxing. “      He was very wrong, to think that.

           Maybe it’s time for a break.      “ Hey, Vera? I wanted to ask you something. If it’s, uhh, okay. It’s about those sketches? …The ones inspired by my cases? “

“Watercolors can be relaxing, but...” she wasn’t sure how to describe how she felt about it. It was true watercolors could be more difficult at first than people expected, but once you learned how to get them to work with you, they were just as relaxing as Apollo had likely hoped. Articulating all of that seemed difficult though. “...Not always.”

She blinked at the mention of her sketches, then nodded. “Of course. What would you like to know...?

[wrightrpagency-blog]

join us!

The password is OBJECTION and all are welcome as long as they are not terrible people.

Join with any variation you like of your character’s name. 

Tell your friends and acquaintances and dogs

[wrightrpagency-blog]

valorandgold

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have feelings for her-.”

And there it was. Juniper gasped, her cheeks burning red, having just blurted it out so suddenly. There were simply so many ways things had not gone well there, too, in how she’d said it. “T-That is…I mean…I-I assume you don’t…I don’t actually…I mean it’s not like I-…”

*cough cough*

“…sorry…I must seem pretty pathetic right now…”

Apollo’s eyes widened in surprise. Oh. His cheeks flushed ever so slightly in embarrassment at his own obliviousness. He really wasn’t any good at this sort of thing, was he? “You don’t seem pathetic,” he countered. Well, not that pathetic – certainly no more than he must seem for thinking it was Trucy Juniper had been nervous about.

He took another sip of his beverage, eyebrows skyrocketing as his brain (finally) caught up with the rest of what she’d said. “What!?” he spluttered, narrowly avoiding choking on his coffee. “I don’t,” he confirmed, shaking his head. “Have feelings for her, that is. I mean. Not that she’s not a great person, because she is, I just… don’t think of her that way. At all.” He go the distinct impression he was putting his foot in his mouth as he spoke, but he had no idea how to correct it.

“I don’t know that avoiding her is the best way to deal with your… uh, feelings though,” he added, deciding it might be better to focus on Juniper for the time being.

[wrightrpagency-blog]

theburgermaster

Maya could tell that Apollo was just as surprised as she that there was a safe behind the painting. She hadn’t known Dhurke for very long, but she did know that being the leader of the rebellion meant that he probably had things that had to be hidden. She wondered what kinds of things needed to be hidden due to the rebellion. It wasn’t a very big safe…the kind one would keep documents or money hidden in.

“I doubt he would have left it where anyone could find it…” Maya said, looking around the office. “What if it’s on the back of the painting or something? I mean, if I were Dhurke, that’s where I would put it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Apollo agreed, turning the painting around to look at the back, visibly deflating when he realized that the back was just as combination-free as the front. Wait. “Maybe it’s on the front of the painting,” he suggested. And then, realizing how insane that probably sounded, he quickly clarified. “Like in code, or something. That seems like the kind of thing he’d do.”

It seemed like the sort of thing Apollo thought Dhurke would do, anyway. He… wasn’t sure how well he’d really known the man, but it was still worth a shot. He turned the painting around and started looking for clues. Unsurprisingly, he came up empty. “Or… maybe not.” Maybe he needed a nap.

Mysteries (closed with wrightrpagency)

[wrightrpagency-blog]

starreachr

“Well mommy can’t afford aftercare, so usually we just stay in her office and play Mario kart or other games until we go home” Stella shrugged. A slight sadness in her voice. “But thank you…”

“Wah! I can’t believe Uncle Pollo beat me!!” Celeste gasped “he really is good!!”

Clay smiled back at Apollo. He knew raising the girls was gonna be hard but he was glad his best mate was by his side.

Apollo really wasn’t sure what to do at the mention of the girls’ mother. He was a little better with emotions when they were coming from kids… but they were still, well, emotions.

Not that Celeste’s praise of his Mario Kart ‘talent’ was really much easier to deal with. “Ah, thanks…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, evidently mollified despite the compliment coming from a small child.

“So… what now? Another race, or…?”

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Evelyn smiled and nodded approvingly “that’s better, good girl~”

She then moved forward to kiss Trucy’s temple.

Phoenix sighed and smiled. It looked like it was going to be a rough start but it was going to be ok.

That night as Evelyn and Griffin went home, Phoenix started getting ready for bed. “You can take my bed until I get my own if you like Truce! I’ll sleep on the couch!”

“What!? No way, daddy!” Trucy huffed when Phoenix offered up his bed. “I’m small, so the couch is big enough for me – but if you sleep on it, you’ll probably be all cooped up and hurt your back! You’re not getting any younger, you know,” she pointed out, hands on her hips.