[RL 36: Miscellaneous Scenes from a Vacation Taken During a Virus; Edgeworth, Phoenix][Backdated]

[samuraiprosecutor]

((OOC: Action spam of several scenes taking place during the 'What If?' virus. The first scene takes place several hours after the phone call at the end of this post--so the morning of Wednesday, Sept. 9th comm time, second day of the virus--and the scenes will cover the entire duration of the virus. Action spam is go!))

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[samuraiprosecutor]

[his reaction to the words is the same, a quirk of his lips that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, quickly fades.] That sounds familiar.

[leans back against the headboard, folding his legs in front of him.] I studied in Europe. I didn’t return to the States until about eight years ago. Upon my arrival, my licensing was arranged and I acquired a position with the Prosecutor’s Office of the city of Los Angeles.

[gestures off-handedly to the tiny badge in Wright’s hand.] That prosecutor’s badge was presented to me then. It’s been in my possession every day since.

[attorneyatlol]

[turns his attention to the badge again, feeling the weight in his hand before he closes it in his fist]

[there's a sick sensation growing in the pit of his stomach and a niggling doubt in the back of his mind, making him increasingly aware of the fact that everything Miles has told him thus far is practically irrefutable, while Phoenix himself doesn't have a shred of physical evidence--only his memories]

[it's a dizzying realization, one he's not quite ready to fully acknowledge]

[eyes on his fist, he swallows hard]

You're a defense attorney. You work at Edgeworth & Edgeworth Law Offices downtown and have for the past four years. You didn't object to it when I mentioned it at dinner.

[samuraiprosecutor]

I agreed to your assumptions in order to prevent the kind of discussion we’re having now, Wright. [averts his gaze, frowning at the cotton bedsheets.] I...thought it would be simpler that way. But I am a prosecutor and have been throughout my career. My only stint as a defense attorney lasted a single day, and came about because you weren’t available to defend the client until the second day.

[attorneyatlol]

But you always wanted to be a defense attorney. [finally looks up, seemingly calm despite the panic welling inside him; his hold on the badge tightens] That's all you ever talked about.

[samuraiprosecutor]

[his hand goes to his arm, squeezing his bicep tightly, relaxing, squeezing again.] That changed.

[attorneyatlol]

[Phoenix recognizes that gesture; even as his mind reels, his expression softens slightly, and he quietly asks:]

Why?

[samuraiprosecutor]

[the look he gives his friend is resigned; he doesn’t stop worrying the tense flesh of his arm.] I turned from that path when...my father died.

[attorneyatlol]

[the panic is mounting, and the next time Phoenix speaks, he sounds almost breathless]

When your... What...?

[samuraiprosecutor]

[hollowly] I was nine when he was killed, murdered. I devoted the next fifteen years to...

[“my revenge” wells up in his throat, but he catches it before it reaches his tongue. Wright only needs to know the details relevant to convincing him of his own state.] ...to becoming a prosecutor.

[attorneyatlol]

[the words hit him like a punch in the gut, all but knocking the wind out of him. it can't possibly be...]

No... [he shakes his head in an attempt to ground himself] No, I... I talked to him last week!

[samuraiprosecutor]

[the protest hurts in so many ways. Edgeworth lets his gaze drift away, to the open balcony door and the perfect blue sky beyond it.] You didn’t, Wright. You only think that you did.

[attorneyatlol]

No, I did. I... He called me, but I...

[this is getting to be too much for him; he falls silent and drops his gaze to the bed, squeezing his eyes shut when the quilt's pattern blurs out of focus. bringing a hand to his forehead, he tries to breathe]

[this can't really be happening... this can't really be real]

[samuraiprosecutor]

[it takes Edgeworth a few moments to realize the effect this is having, but when he looks back at his friend what he sees there worries him. not wanting to find out what may happen when a virus-affected person is pushed beyond their limits, he falls silent again, watching Wright’s reactions intently and waiting for more cues.]

[attorneyatlol]

[a few moments pass before Phoenix makes any another move, and when he finally does, he moves as if on auto-pilot. turning to the nightstand beside him, he grabs his cell phone and immediately begins scrolling through his address book]

[samuraiprosecutor]

[sits up in response to the sudden movement, watching the phone warily.] What are you doing?

[attorneyatlol]

[doesn't answer; he continues scrolling through the letters until he gets to 'E', finding only one 'Edgeworth' there, and it isn't Gregory... but Gregory Edgeworth's is a number he knows by heart]

[with a tightness in his chest, he dials it]

[samuraiprosecutor]

[begins to protest, but quickly closes his mouth. the only answer Wright could get in response would be a wrong number. beyond a few moments of confusion that in and of itself shouldn’t have any damaging effects.]

[attorneyatlol]

[he thinks it can't possibly get any worse, that nothing could surprise him now, yet when the voice that greets him on the other line isn't Gregory's but of someone who works at Pete's Pizza Pagoda, practically everything that's holding Phoenix together starts to crumble. with one last thread of hope, he manages to hang up and dial the number one more time, in case he messed up before... but it only leads to the same result]

[in that moment, the thread snaps, and he drops the phone in his lap]

...It's real.

[samuraiprosecutor]

[lets the silence linger between them for a while, unsure of how best to handle the situation. he’s finally achieved the acquiescence he was struggling for, but he isn’t yet sure of the cost. finally, he opens his mouth to respond, but all that seems to come out is a soft:] ...I’m sorry.

[attorneyatlol]

[his vision is blurring again, and he knows he needs to lie down or else he's going to pass out, but he can't seem to make himself move]

Miles...

[samuraiprosecutor]

[manages to not flinch at the name, gives his friend an apologetic look but doesn’t like what he sees on the man’s face.] ...Wright?

[attorneyatlol]

[turns his head slightly, giving the other man an odd, somewhat questioning look; he wants to know, really know, why Miles keeps calling him that, but he's afraid to ask right now. he slowly shakes his head]

I don't know.

[samuraiprosecutor]

[falls silent, averting his eyes again. he’s desperate to know what his friend wants, what he needs at this point, but doesn’t know how to ask.]

[attorneyatlol]

[it wouldn't matter, because Phoenix isn't even sure what he needs at this point. i mean, how do you deal with the fact that everything you thought you knew isn't real...? he can't even wrap his mind around it, let alone figure out what his next course of action should be, and the thought of it alone makes him physically ill]

[eventually, he lies back and fixes his gaze on the ceiling, but he might as well be looking through it for all he can focus right now]

What am I supposed to do...?

[samuraiprosecutor]

[there’s a pause before he’s given a quiet answer.] Wait, Wright. ...Pretend, if it helps. In a few days, everything will return to normal.

[‘I hope,’ his traitorous mind supplies, but in spite of the past few months, the things the community has afflicted them with have been only temporary.]