Phoenix Wright (
attorneyatlol) wrote2008-09-05 12:55 am
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[RL: You got some splainin' to do - Friday, September 5, 11:00AM | Phoenix; Larry; Edgeworth]
Phoenix paced the apartment in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that were supposedly his. While they did look like something he’d normally wear, he hadn’t recognized anything, and even more worrying, there was no sign of the sweater Dollie knitted him anywhere.
Sighing, he stopped in the hallway and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Miles (or ‘Edgeworth,’ as he evidently preferred being called) had said that Dollie was indisposed for some reason, but refused to give Phoenix any details beyond the fact that she was safe and well. It was frustrating, to say the least. Lunchtime was rapidly approaching and he would have been preparing to spend the next half hour with her under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do from here, especially given the fact that he didn’t know where ‘here’ was nor did he have any clue what could have possibly detained her. But Edgeworth had asked Phoenix to trust him and Phoenix did.
He stood in the hall for a moment, nervously chewing the inside of his cheek. More than ten years had passed since he last saw Miles; there were so many things he wanted to tell him and even more that he wanted to ask him, but waiting like this was a nerve-racking, necessary evil. He hoped his friend would arrive soon.
With another sigh, he went back to pacing.
((OOC: Backdated to the first day of the mental regression virus, around 11AM.))
Sighing, he stopped in the hallway and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Miles (or ‘Edgeworth,’ as he evidently preferred being called) had said that Dollie was indisposed for some reason, but refused to give Phoenix any details beyond the fact that she was safe and well. It was frustrating, to say the least. Lunchtime was rapidly approaching and he would have been preparing to spend the next half hour with her under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do from here, especially given the fact that he didn’t know where ‘here’ was nor did he have any clue what could have possibly detained her. But Edgeworth had asked Phoenix to trust him and Phoenix did.
He stood in the hall for a moment, nervously chewing the inside of his cheek. More than ten years had passed since he last saw Miles; there were so many things he wanted to tell him and even more that he wanted to ask him, but waiting like this was a nerve-racking, necessary evil. He hoped his friend would arrive soon.
With another sigh, he went back to pacing.
((OOC: Backdated to the first day of the mental regression virus, around 11AM.))
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Decision made, Edgeworth stood and cut into the conversation with a casual tone. "If there's nothing further you need, Wright, some of us do still have professional obligations to meet. I trust you'll remain in your apartment."
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…Not that that was any less childish.
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"Wright, we'd spend the entire time staring at the television screen. It isn't as though my presence would make a difference, under those circumstances."
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'Dear God...'
The line was hackneyed, excessively sentimental, and so damnably earnest it brought a pang to Edgeworth's chest. Only Wright could... He shook his head, and for just a few moments a soft chuckle escaped him. Finally he tilted his chin up and met his friend's eyes. "I have no intention of missing out on work for this." He nodded at the television, then held Wright's gaze for another, longer pause.
"Ruining Larry's enjoyment of this, however, might conceivably be worth my time."
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