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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"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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Aside from Larry’s occasional character impressions, a comfortable silence had fallen over them, although the more… risqué parts of the movie left Phoenix a little stunned. Had they really watched this when they were kids…?
Once the initial shock abated, though, he found himself enjoying it if only for the nostalgia, and about an hour into the movie, he cast a sidelong glance at Miles to gauge the other man’s reaction. The glance turned into a full on look, however, and it wasn’t until a few moments passed that he realized he was smiling again.
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When Wright began to stare at him Edgeworth was falling into yet another spell of general apathy, and the feeling of being watched took a while to register. He turned to find his friend smiling warmly at him; Edgeworth stared back, his brows furrowed quizzically, and didn't speak.
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It was really nice to see Miles again.
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It seemed like a very long time before Miles was able to turn back to the movie. The end wasn't much further--his recollection of the film's events was sorely (or perhaps fortunately) limited, but simply judging by the time that had passed they had only about a third left. Suppressing a sigh he settled back in his seat, leaning as far away from Wright as he could manage on the tiny couch, and dragged his focus back to the film.
Mercifully, the rest of the film passed in a companionable silence.
-End-