lmao honestly i’ve been joking about misandrist Phoenix the whole time too, it’s pretty funny to me. feminist ally only interested in more women in the legal profession. frankly the gender disparity in AA law is huge so he’s right ✊😔
TBH I’m not super keen on the fandom tendency to stuff every possible relationship into the nuclear family and by extension assume every character under the age of 25 is Phoenix’s child – Trucy is his kid, everyone else is something else and most of them are already grown when he meets them anyway. However I’m willing to ignore that for the sake of this joke:
Summary: A sheltered young artist with a tragic past finds herself caught in the web of dark affection by a beautiful and sinister murderer, and his carefree rockstar brother.
–
September 4, 2028– 2:00 pm
Vera had been asked to meet with Simon Blackquill at the prosecutorial office, and right on time she stood outside of the door that bore his name.
She’d been dreading it. Not to insult Mr. Blackquill, but the very idea of talking about her emotional state with an expert gave her a bone-deep anxiety that pinged every nerve as she knocked at his door.
She’d heard of him– the legendary prosecutor prisoner. The man who mauled people with his hawk at the slightest provocation. Miss Cyke’s weird boyfriend.
“Enter!” a sharp voice barked from within. She opened the door on a dimly lit chamber that looked less like a prosecutorial office, and more like the set of a movie.
There was a tatami mat rolled out over the floor, and several kimono– and several framed swords– hanging on the walls. The electric lights were low, and most of the room’s illumination came from several flickering oil lamps.
Simon Blackquill was sitting on a cushion on the floor in front of a long, low table with a steaming pot set on a hot plate, and several cups.
He was an imposing man. Obviously tall, even sitting on his knees on the floor as he was, and scarecrow thin. He wore an old japanese style coat over his dark suit, and he had a barely tamed mane of hair pulled roughly back that made him look like a player in an old kabuki show.
Vera shut the door behind herself, wearing her recently laundered frilly ‘gothic lolita’ dress and her striped stockings again.
She felt like a woman out of time, or at the very least, half a world away during the time period Mr. Blackquill seemed to have stepped out of.
Quietly, she got out her pad from her bag at her hip, and drew a smiling face and a waving hand to hold up at him.
Simon smiled. His smile contrasted sharply with that of her guardian angel’s beatific one. Simon Blackquill’s smile was the keen edge of a knife on a moonless night– wicked and amused.
“Misham-dono, I presume,” he purred. “Welcome to my office. Would you care to join me for coffee?”
Vera thought for a moment, hugging her pad to her chest before she nodded and inched closer while looking for a place to sit opposite him.
She thought for a moment, and started to sketch again.
There was a large, comfortable looking cushion set in front of him on the opposite side of the table.
“I can find us some chairs if you prefer,” he offered. ||
Vera shook her head, before she knelt down on the cushion before him on her knees. She held up her drawing of a hawk with wings outstretched and a question mark.
He touched his chin thoughtfully and grinned. “Ah, you’re wondering about Taka. He’s become more famous than me, it seems.”
Blackquill whistled sharply and a dark shape descended like an arrow from high in the room. The prosecutor raised his arm, and Vera watched an enormous hawk alight on it, like he was the branch of a tree.
Vera gasped, her fingers covering her mouth as a delighted little sound escaped her lips.
“…cute.”
“She’s very friendly,” he said, reaching up to pet the bird’s head, much to its seeming satisfaction. “Only eats a few fingers a week.”
He smiled that wicked, mischievous smile again, and his eyes sparkled.
Vera jolted briefly, but her dark and serious eyes stared into his. She finally smiled, and started to laugh quietly behind her hand .
“I…hope he’s had his fill. I need my fingers to work..” She gave him a tentative smile “sorry for my silence.”
“Hah! Better that you think before you speak than speak before you think like so many idiots today, eh, girl?” He held his arm out for her, and Taka the hawk with it. “He’s had his fill for now. Your poor fingers will be spared if you chance to pet him.”
Her thin fingers reached out after dropping her pen on her lap to try and pet the hawk’s head with a thoughtful tilt of her head.
The bird made a soft noise, and his feathers ruffled as he leaned into her touch.
“He’s very, very pretty.” she murmured. “Besides, I don’t recommend eating any part of me. Too much poison.”
“I’ll keep it in mind for when either of us gets a taste for human flesh.” He nodded very seriously.
“Thank you, Mr. Blackquill.” She chuckled softly as she opened her pad on her lap again. “I hope this visit isn’t too much trouble for you..”
“Not more trouble than the endless paperwork my slacking detective leaves on my desk,” Blackquill said wryly. He set Taka down on the table, and picked up the steaming kettle instead, pouring dark liquid into the two teacups beside it. “I’ll consider it a break– unless you really try my patience.”
Was he teasing her, or serious? It was impossible to tell.
“I used to be told that I could be a little…” she trailed off “…trying. So I’ll try to behave, sir.”
He waved his hand. “Just be yourself. That’ll do the job.”
Blackquill pushed one of the cups of coffee toward her.
Eagerly, she took one of them and raised it with a quiet ‘thank you’.
The dark, rich flavor of the coffee washed over her tongue without any sweeteners or embellishments. It was nutty, and fragrant, and Vera’s discerning nose and tongue picked up floral elements. A complex cup of coffee.
He raised his glass to her and sipped as well.
She made a quietly satisfied hum.
“…this is quality coffee, Mr. Blackquill…” she tilted her head “floral…It doesn’t taste like something just picked up off the shelf.”
“One of my fellow prosecutor’s special blends, in fact,” he nodded. “A man of discerning taste as much as I am. I’m quite impressed that you would notice.”
Vera flushed with a duck of her head.
“My senses are pretty honed, sir. Thank you. I can pick up small details easy…it’s kind of why I was good at my ‘job’ .”
“Ahh, so it’s not only your vision that’s so acute,” he nodded. “How do you feel about that, if I might ask?”
“It’s every sense..” she murmured. “a perfect forgery cannot be created if you just make it look the same. It has to feel the same– smell the same, sound the same– have all the right little flourishes…”
Her eyes grew distant, and Taka and Simon became a blur in her vision as her attention twisted back into the past.
“The smallest detail being left behind makes the work useless. Useless work doesn’t get us paid…and means bad men will come for me.” She tightened her fingers around the cup “…huh? About my senses? They’re…fine. Natural.”
“Ah,” Simon nodded. “So you say, but it sounds as though there’s something more complicated at work. Would it be right to say that you’ve been used, in the past, as a tool more than a person, Misham-dono?”
Vera frowned slightly and began to draw again with a thoughtful hum.
“You are correct, yes. My father saw my talent for art and …” She frowned and fell silent for a long moment as she sketched furiously.
He politely waited as she sketched, watching her quietly and sipping his coffee. Taka curiously clipped his way over the table to peer at what she was doing.
Vera smiled, charmed, at the bird before petting the top of his head and giving him a sneak preview, before she got back to it.
“Tool. Tool is a good word for it. Machine, perhaps. A forgery with the veneer of a person.”
She held up the picture with a smile. It was a picture of her, younger, bent over the work table and a partially completed forgery with strings connecting her to a system of pulleys cranked by the paint speckled hand of Drew Misham.
“Machine.”
Blackquill nodded solemnly. “When I was in prison, I came to know a man I later discovered had been treated very similarly. It did deep and lasting damage to his very soul.”
Vera’s eyes widened very slightly.
“…to his soul?” she asked quietly, leaning forward. “…how did he heal from it?”
“With great difficulty,” he said seriously. “And with help from those who cared for him. Who understood him and treated him as a person, rather than a tool. I hope that you have people in your life who treat you as a person, and not a tool, Misham-dono.”
Vera bit her lip.
“I do. I have more than I had back then. Mr. Edgeworth treats me as a person…and Pearl is perhaps my best friend…and Trucy. Mr. Wright even if I don’t see him often…” Her voice dropped low “and ..and, well…”
Simon cocked his head. “Do tell. What you share with me won’t go beyond this room.”
She smiled weakly.
“…the secret’s already out…but Kristoph and Klavier Gavin. I’ve been writing with Kristoph for two years now, and he’s only ever treated me like a person. Even when I was younger…he spoke to me about one of my few interests…and since my coma has been teaching me a lot about facing the world after what my father did.”
Her fingers brushed the edge of her mug as she took a sip. “and Klavier…we’ve only just started spending more time together after our…our occasional meetups had lapsed. But he treats me like a sist…he treats me well.”
The edge of Simon’s lips quirked. “It sounds like you’re building quite the firm support network for yourself then. That’s good. Kristoph Gavin– I met him while I was in prison. His brother, of course, is my noisy neighbor now.”
Simon jerked his thumb in the direction of the other offices.
Vera laughed into her hand.
“He is pretty loud huh? And he likes loud places…not my usual sort of thing, but he makes it fun.” She nibbled on the edge of her thumb “…you met Kristoph in prison? W-what did you think of him?”
“I found him a very interesting man. An excellent conversationalist. A very different sort of character than the typical ruffians and louts with whom I was housed. A man of impeccable form,” Simon chuckled. “And to think, he had more homicides on his sheet than I. And how do you find him, Misham-dono?”
Vera brushed her hair over her ear with a quiet laugh. She looked down.
“I care about him very much, Simon. I won’t lie to you. He’s polite and kind as an angel. Intelligent and well spoken. He has a charisma I can’t shake. Yet when I was younger and even now, he’s happy to talk about things I loved without judgment. He’s– he’s impressive. And he’s taught me how to care for myself, how to assert what I want, and suggested becoming a detective, which I’m eager to do.”
She wound her fingers through her hair, twisting it around her fingertip, as she continued. but he’s also the devil. He has…he has a way with people. He’s done terrible things in the name of his personal sins, yet I can’t hate him for any of them. …after all, he killed my father, but it saved my soul.”
She glanced up at Simon, whose dark eyes seemed to glint in the firelight.
“He killed your father, but it saved your soul,” he repeated. “A fascinating kind of devil’s bargain, as you describe him. Do you believe that some people deserve to die, Misham-dono?”
“Deserve is a strange word…” Vera murmured, looking down into her coffee “who am I to deem what’s deserved and what isn’t? I’m not Justitia.”
She set the coffee aside and began to draw again “…but some people, people like my father– like the people who hurt your friend– like the people Edgeworth shivers when he mentions the names of…”
She looked up at him mid stroke of her pen– “their lives come at the cost of someone else’s soul. As long as my papa lived free, I wouldn’t be anything but an automaton. And they, the rest, likely all had someone or someones of their own who’s souls are wounded like mine.”
She held up her drawing– a set of Justitia’s scales tipping very slightly. One one dish, the rough image of her father looming over herself as she hunkered over the table in chains. On the other, a figure meant to be her and Pearl under the LAPD Detective Division’s badge, with Vera smiling in the light. .
Drops fell from above from sketched fingers tilting a crystal bottle and weighed the scales in the favor of the latter.
“I can’t say who deserves to die, Prosecutor Blackquill. I can only say I won’t cry for my father’s death…and that sometimes when a person is taken through death or Justitia’s gavel…another life is saved.”
Simon had listened quietly and attentively as she spoke and drew, his expression placid aside from his obvious, keen interest.
“That’s quite the nuanced answer, Misham-dono,” he nodded. “I applaud your consideration and self-reflection. The great state of California, of course, believes that some people do deserve to die, and that it is the court’s job to determine who those people are.”
The death penalty. That was what Simon Blackquill was speaking of. And she knew from her research that he had been subject to it– and very nearly had been executed by it.
“It’s not an easy thing.” Vera murmured as she looked down at her picture. “Everyone is human. Judges, Prosecutors, Defense. I was nearly executed for a crime I had no part in…the death of a man who destroyed me. I never even got to hear my verdict when the poison took me.”
Her hands shook on her lap.
“I wish…” She cut herself off and laughed. “I…wow, I sounded cruel. Sor–”
She picked up her pad again, and sketched out on a new page a simple frowning face with a tear that she held up instead of finishing verbally.
“Sometimes a cruel remark can be valuable, Misham-dono. What were you going to say?”
“I wish… I wish someone had taken me away when I was younger. I wish there was another way…I wish Mr. Gavin did anything except kill papa. But not for my father’s life– for Mr. Gavin. He threw away everything in that moment. If there was another way to save me, he wouldn’t be in this situation! Maybe he could have saved Trucy from her– her abandonment– without blood too and could be here now.”
Her fingers tensed against her pad as tears welled in her eyes “…I don’t know if I believe some people deserve to die. But…” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to go back to the darkness again. I want to be a person like you, like everyone else. My father’s death was a blessing. Don’t you think that’s cruel?”
Simon pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and he passed it to her. “I think that we can accept blessings, even if they’re cruel, perhaps. I understand your earnest wish.”
Vera took it from him with a pensive frown. “…..I suppose we can.”
She sighed and started to wipe at her eyes.
“All I know is papa’s death allowed me to try and become a person. I’m not good at it…but his killer has always smiled at me and offered to help me find my way.” The paper crunched under her fingertips “is it wrong to love him for that? Or want to…I don’t know…repay him?”
"Those of us whose lives are marked by death respond to it in sometimes strange ways,” Blackquill shrugged. “I can’t tell you what’s right or wrong. You say you love this man– your father’s killer. Is that right– yes or no?”
Vera twitched, but looked up at him with a firm conviction written on her face that matched the emotion burning inside her.
“Yes, Prosecutor Blackquill…t-though I ask if maybe you don’t tell anyone outside this room.”
“You have my word,” he nodded. “How do you feel about those feelings? Do they make you perhaps confused? Ashamed? Proud? Defiant? Something else?”
Vera brushed her hair over her ear.
““Warm…like they’re drawing me in. But I also– I also know that others won’t quite understand it, so I know I need to stay quiet. The less you say, the less they can use ag–” She grimaced, dismissing the old lie her father told her to isolate her further from the world. She took a deep breath. “I’m not ashamed, but I know some people may see it as some elaborate manipulation.”
“You hesitate to be open with your feelings because you’re worried that people will question their validity. As if they would expect to know your own emotions better than you, yes?”
Vera grimaced.
“Yes.” She wrung her hands together. “…I know how people can be. And I know to some, I hardly come across as a ‘whole person’.”
“You’re worried they’ll see your feelings as a tool being manipulated, rather than a person experiencing and expressing their own desires. So you hold those feelings back.”
Vera sank a little lower. Simon Blackquill really was an expert. His analysis was like a knife she kept trying to dodge, failing each and every time.
“Yes sir.”
“Do you think that doing so will make you less of a tool, and more of a person? If you hide your true feelings, and perform the role that you think others will expect?”
Vera looked up at him with a puzzled frown.
“I don’t know, Mr. Blackquill.” she tore at the edge of her pad. “Pro..probably not…it’d just keep me as a tool.”
“Then perhaps if what you want to be is a person, doing so isn’t the best course in the long term.” He smiled at her from across the table and sipped his coffee. “Misham-dono, I sense that you come from an environment where any disapproval had to be avoided at all costs, or suffer the consequences.”
Vera twitched again, and for a moment her father flashed through her mind once more. The criminal in meek clothing. The threats of the ‘outside world’ and kidnappers– the physical reprimands and nights without food or the few comforts that shack allowed.
“Hh…” she whispered softly, “huh-uh…y-yes.”
Simon reached out and stroked Taka’s head.
“Indeed. But you must become comfortable with the disapproval of others, Vera. It is absolutely vital to becoming a person, rather than a tool who shapeshifts into whatever is the safest identity in which to hide. In the world you came from, disapproval was anathema. But here, in this world, the world of people– if someone disapproves of you, you can simply separate yourself from them and live your life. And if someone harms you due to their disapproval– that is a crime. ”
Vera tightened around herself.
“Oh.” She took several deep, nervous breaths as the advice sunk in “you..you sound like you’re speaking from e-experience. Or someone’s e-experience at least.”
She pulled her notepad to her chest with a bite of her lip “How do you get comfortable with their disapproval? I ..I mean, hiding it’s gone well until now, until they found the letters…”
"The only way that you become comfortable with anything,” Blackquill smiled again, and toyed with a lock of his long hair. “You have to practice. There is actually a developmental stage that most people go through where they start to practice this that you have unfortunately missed, and must catch up on. The so-called ‘teenage rebellion’ phase. You must do small things that you know people will disapprove of– in order to test boundaries and learn to draw boundaries of your own.”
“Oh.” Vera chewed on her lip.
“…alright uh..” Her brow furrowed in thought. “Uhhh…will I get in actual trouble if I send a slightly more ah…romantic? Letter to Mr. Gavin? Will the prison withhold it?”
“Speaking as a former resident of the same fine clink in which Kristoph Gavin now sits, I can assure you in good faith that you will not get in trouble, and the prison will not withhold it. I often conversed with a number of prisoners who were quite proud of forcing the staff to read through lurid and graphic fantasies which they shared with their partners outside.” Simon’s sword-curve grin reappeared, nasty and amused. “So long as you suggest nothing that is illegal– they’ll pass it right along.”
Vera turned a vivid red.
“Alright. I…ah.” she cleared her throat “that’ll be one of my first acts of ‘rebellion’. I’m certain it’ll surprise him…” She put her hand to her chin in thought “…and maybe I’ll dress a little less…less plainly too? This is my most ‘exciting’ outfit but most of the rest is…is what I was told was ‘popular and average’ “
“An expressive method of dress is often considered a good method of rebellion,” Simon nodded in approval. “As you can see, I never quite removed myself from that phase.”
Vera put her hand on her cheek with an amused smile “I think it looks good on you…why should you bother not looking the way you w-want, right?”
“Indeed. I’m lucky in a way. I cared little about the disapproval of others before my imprisonment– and I care even less now. I am perhaps a good example for you, and others like you.” He chuckled, as if in a private joke. “You asked me, when we began this part of our conversation– if the feelings you have for Gavin-dono are ‘wrong’. This I tell you in all honesty, Vera– no feeling you have is ever wrong, as long as it is true and honest. You can take the wrong action in response to a feeling. But the feeling itself is never wrong.”
She placed her hand to her chest thoughtfully, feeling the beat of her heart.
“I see… You’re a very smart man, Mr. Blackquill…I..” she bit her lip. “I promise my feelings are genuine and honest…so knowing it’s not wrong helps a lot.”
She looked up at him with a smile “..I’ll be around the prosecutor’s office a lot more in a few months. So maybe you’ll see me looking up to your example.”
“I’ll be pleased to see you flourish, Misham-dono.” He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the table. “You’re becoming a detective, isn’t that right? And hoping to be the loyal watchdog of your imprisoned darling.”
Vera flushed, brushing her hair over her ear with a timid nod.
“Yes.” she whispered with a happy smile as she finally picked up her coffee again “…I’m entering the academy tomorrow. At…at first it was so I could be in a position to do some good with my talents on the other side of the law…and to establish a life where I could feel confident in myself.”
She tilted her head to the side “…while looking for any evidence that could stay the executioner if they ever finalized his death date– but hearing this, getting the chance to be by his side helping him directly when he prosecutes…”
Simon leaned his chin on his hands and looked at her mischievously. “When you put it like that, it sounds quite romantic.”
She sipped her coffee with one eye open and a note of the impishness she felt with Klavier leaking into her expression.
“I think that’s what was worrying poor Mr. Edgeworth at first…because I…I think it’s very romantic.”
“Well, if, in a few months time, you achieve your goal, and find that you need to manufacture some, shall we say, private moment with your charge– I may have a few tips for you."
Simon;s grin was wide, and mischievous. Vera had to wonder if Mr. Edgeworth would have sent her to talk to him if he had known thai would be his advice.
Vera turned a deep red, her hand over her mouth as her joy practically sparkled behind her dark eyes.
“…in a few months time, I may take you up on that, Mr. Blackquill…I’ve never been one to say no to a little extra wisdom.”
It had been a long flight. A really long flight. Klavier had been on some long flights before, but this one might have taken the cake.
He felt like his skin was made of bees and his stomach was made of sandpaper. He had his sunglasses pushed up on his nose to protect himself from the evening sun, and he walked close to Ema as they made their way through the marketplace.
Still, despite it all, despite the nerves and the tension and the lack of sleep, he kept the smile painted on his face.
“Some place, huh, fraulein!”
“Yeah, it’s pretty neat, huh?” Ema chuckled, though he could tell it was forced. She was shuffling along, her eyes dark even over her lazy smile as she hugged her bag to her side. “I have to admit, part of me really loved being here for a while. The tea’s fantastic, the food’s great, and you can’t say it ain’t interesting.”
“You must have been having a good time, ja? While we’re here, you’ll have to show me the sights.” He moved to slip his arm around her waist as they walked.
Ema flushed, and for a moment she seemed about to protest before she leaned into him with a sharp laugh. “I’ll give you the grand tour. Knowing you, if I left you alone you’d get grifted by Ahlbi or something.”
“Me? Grifted? Never! I am simply a generous soul who likes to let his assistance flow freely.” he laughed and tossed his hair, but she could probably tell how glad he was that she didn’t push him off her. The crowd was overwhelming to his sleepless mind. “So where are we going exactly? You said something about a palace, but I might have been mistaken.”
“I’m taking you to the palace.” she pointed to a large and ornate structure in beautiful pinks and blues on a rise just outside of the main town. “Specifically we’re going to go see if Yuta…Lord Regent Nahyuta…can set us up with some temporary lodgings that aren’t just on the temple floor again.”
“Lord Regent Nahyuta, hmm?” He cocked his head. “Sounds like the two of you are close. I had no idea that you were dating a prosecutor prince, fraulein– no wonder a humble rockstar doesn’t impress.”
Ema flushed brightly.
“…why the heck did you jump right to ‘dating’, Klavier? And get outta here with that sadboy over-humility. ‘Doesn’t impress’, my ass.”
He laughed and brushed his hair out of his face again. “Sorry, fraulein, perhaps I’m just intimidated. I’m a little out of my element, but it seems you’re right at home here. Probably Apollo is too, ja?”
Ema huffed, and tucked her hair over her ear with a little pout.
“It’s not like LA, I was shell shocked too when I first got here. But it kinda grows on you. Maybe it’s the air.” She walked a little closer to him “…anyway, yeah. I guess I am dating the prosecutor prince– so maybe that’ll score us some good beds.”
“I would hope so! Sounds like it will for you at least.” He gave her a sly look. “So you are dating, ja? And here you were trying to imply like I was reaching in my deduction,”
“All I said is it was kinda desperate to assume, Klav.” She huffed up at him with a sly smile “…but yeah. He took a liking to me, and I took a liking to him. We’ve had a thing going for a little while now, since I got assigned to him. Took him out to his first American cheeseburger.”
“Oh that sounds like a fun time, fraulein! You should take me out for an American cheeseburger as well!” He teased lightly, his fingers playing a guitar riff on her hip as they walked arm in arm. He hoped that the needy loneliness didn’t seep into his voice.
It must have, as he caught her looking at him with a funny look. “How about I take you out for a Khura’in dinner instead? You know, for the novelty.”
He flushed and ducked his head. “Ach, well, if you insist, liebchen, I certainly won’t say no! So, you are dating the prosecutor prince– how about Apollo? Does he have anyone here?”
He hurried the conversation away from himself, but in his haste accidentally stumbled on another topic that might be construed as insecurity. Of course Klavier was not at all insecure… even though Apollo had ditched him.
Ema rubbed her neck.
“Uh…kind of also Nahyuta, Klaiver. And me, honestly. We’ve been getting closer, you know?”
“Oh.” Klavier turned it over in his mind. Apollo and Ema. And this prosecutor prince. He could start to see why Apollo wasn’t bothering to call home. He pushed the thought aside. “Well! That sounds like we’re likely to get decent accommodations then, ja?”
“Either that or a three hour sermon.” Ema snickered like it was some private joke as she bumped his shoulder .“I’ll give it 50/50.”
“A sermon, fraulein?” he chuckled with her despite not quite understanding the joke. “Oh! Is he the monk that Trucy was talking about?”
“If Trucy was talking about him, I uh…imagine you’ve got a pretty skewed impression of him, don’t you? I think she’s still pissed about the Gramarye trial. Not that I can blame her of course…but yeah, he’s a monk of the Holy Mother and an international prosecutor.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t actually get much of an impression of him at all through her babbling. She was very upset,” Klavier said.
As they walked he glanced a little at the strange buildings and the bright colored clothes and strange, almost festival atmosphere that was so different than a typical street in LA..
The two of them passed a small group of Khurainese men and women talking excitedly near what seemed to be a weathered old electronics stall, as the words ‘plumed punisher’ rose clearly out of what was otherwise a foreign language to Klavier.
The sky was bright and blue, and the air was crisp and sharp to the lungs with none of the familiar LA smog.
“Poor thing.” Ema sighed as she gave the people a wave– at least one of them waved back as if he recognized her. “He’s a pretty good guy, honestly. He could be a little…cold…during trials, sure. But he had his reasons. Things weren’t great for him.”
“Oh no?” he cocked his head. “Well he’s a prosecutor, and not all of us are so warm and cuddly as I am, ja? But what do you mean things weren’t great for him?”
Ema looped her arm around him in a sign of shocking public affection for her, and started scrounging in her coat pocket thoughtfully.
Before them the great temple loomed and caught the light in a glistening starburst, and off to its side, the gilded palace and its high walls.
Hanging from flags and banners, Klavier saw the somewhat familiar shape of a reversed magatama– or was it something else?
Ema sighed as she pulled her snackoos from her pocket and offered him some.
“Oof, she didn’t even talk about that? Nahyuta was the son of a defense attorney. A defense attorney who became a rebel after being accused of murdering his wife.” Her smile grew grim “and the doctrine at the time said the sins of the father will be visited upon the child’.”
Klavier took the offered snack and put it in his mouth thoughtfully, surprised both by the gesture and show of public affection. Ema must feel very comfortable here– or she was worried about him. He wasn’t sure which it was. Either way he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“I am starting to feel like I didn’t ask enough questions when I rushed out here,” Klavier drawled. “If I’d asked them– I would have come even faster. The sins of the father visited on the child– what an evil doctrine.”
He shuddered, trying not to think of his own father. Of course, there was a shield between him and his own father’s sins…
“Yeah, I hated it when I first heard it…hate it still.” Ema grimaced as she munched miserably at a snackoo.
A small child bustled past Klavier, chasing after a bird with a laugh, which lightened Ema’s expression before she sighed and continued.
“Nahyuta’s father was an exile, accused of killing a queen, and he grew up in the mountains with Apollo as a child of revolutionary guerillas. Only, Nahyuta wanted to change the system, so he became a prosecutor with the intention of subverting and changing things from the inside.”
She put a snackoo in her mouth, pausing to let a yak walk past with its owner, then she continued.
“but his aunt caught him in a trap. She’d recaptured his recently born little sister, and threatened him with her future. ‘Do everything I ask, or I get her labeled the daughter of a murderer and let her suffer’. He didn’t wanna let Princess Rayfa suffer…and he was already treated like dirt because of the sins of the father rule, so he wound up becoming Ga’ran’s pet prosecutor until Mr. Wright and company managed to get her deposed.”
The story of abuse pulled Klavier’s attention away from the exotic and adorable yak, and he grimaced.
“Mein gott… that’s terrible! Tell me that something changed, fraulein? It sounds like you are leading up to something better?”
A older sibling shielding the younger by sacrificing their own honor. No wonder Ema found herself falling for this prosecutor prince. How much like the sister she looked up to he sounded.
“Well…he’s been made regent, and Rayfa the princess, so there’s at least that. The DC act…which ah, made it so defense attorneys would be executed with their clients, was overturned. And I know he’s wanted to try to change perception on the ‘sins of the father’ belief…but it takes time.”
Ema’s fingers flexed against his before she tugged him past the yak. “Things are looking up, we’re trying to fix it, but it ain’t going fast because nobody’s wanted to risk becoming an attorney again and people are stuck in their ways.”
“I’m sorry, fraulein,” he began as they entered the shadow of the looming palace, “Did you say that they were executing attorneys?”
“Uh huh.” Ema grimaced. “Holding them to the same punishments their clients got. ‘As representing and attempting to save an unclean soul spoke to the uncleanliness of your own.’ It made you just as guilty in the Queen’s eyes. Of course…it was a terror tactic to keep control of her people at the end of the day.”
She looked at Klavier, as he noticed a knot of people by the doorway. A young woman and a number of what seemed to be attendants were heading off towards the temple to the distant sound of soft bells. She didn’t seem happy, the young woman, but at this distance he couldn’t see much of why.
“The accused didn’t even get a trial. They just did a dance to witness the last moments of the victim and went off the assumptions because ‘the dead never lie’ .”
Klavier’s gaze lingered on the unhappy young woman for a moment before they were drawn back to Ema. He shook his head.
“Ema… fraulein that… that’s monstrous…” He found he could hardly wrap his mind around it. “Our own court system is hardly perfect. Flawed. Ripe for abuse. But that…”
“Was evil, right? Yeah. It was. But Mr. Wright tried to stand up against it and basically strong-armed them into giving a proper trial to save Miss Maya and Ahlbi…a kid…from execution. Now Apollo and Nahyuta are trying to fix it in the long term, that’s..”
She nibbled at a snackoo with a frown. “That’s why they’re working themselves so hard here, Klavier. It’s that or let things like the old justice system slide back into power.”
“Okay…. I can sort of start to see why Apollo might be having difficulty coming home,” he murmured. He glanced up at the palace, pausing in front of the long pool of water that stood before it.
Ema looked down into the water “yeah. That’s kind of why I’m not keen on forcing him back. Something’s gotta be done, you know?”
Their reflections were perfect in the clear water…it was almost divine, in it’s way. A perfect mirror to the soul without even a ripple from the gentle breeze.
“Come on. I think you’ll like Yuta. Just…don’t take anything weird he says to heart. I think it’s his way of teasing.”
October 3, 2028– 6:20 pm
Ema had been able to get them past the guards at the door without an issue– one look at the forensic scientist and they seemed to recognize her instantly and wave her inside.
However, they’d been told that Nahyuta was currently out for the moment on an errand and would be back relatively shortly. After a bit of reassurance and Ema’s demand to be let known the moment he returned, she wound up giving Klavier a bit of a tour around the place’s first floor to kill time.
He’d gotten history lessons, clearly relayed from things she’d been told recently, and a number of anecdotes about the happenings in these very halls from ‘that’s where Mr. Wright basically told the Justice Minister to go fuck himself’ and ‘this was used as a prop in the plumed punisher’.
Klavier didn’t know exactly how much time had passed when the sound of footsteps and bells rang through the air from the doorway of the hall.
“…such disrespectful…evil….cruel…nasty…” the voice was high, feminine and youthful, and it seemed every syllable was punctuated by another ringing of bells “when they find th–”
The voice abruptly stopped with a gasp “Miss Skye?”
Klavier turned with curiosity at the sound of the voice. He knew the sound of young ladies’ voices– whoever it was sounded about the age of a typical Gavinners fan.
He saw a young woman, a girl really, standing in the center of the hall with her hand over her mouth in surprise.
Her dark hair was wound in intricate braids that looped behind her head and held it out of her wide and piercing eyes. She had tattoos over her face, marking underneath the eyes and in the center of her forehead, and wore a long white and green trimmed shawl over a pink dress. When she moved, Klavier saw that her arms were connected by a long ribbon that trailed from one bell-clad cuff to the other.
Ema turned with a grin and a sudden bow–one where she put her hand against his back and tried to push him down into one as well.
“Good morning, Your Benevolence.”
Klavier was quick on the uptake– and while he wasn’t one to bow and scrape to royalty, he wasn’t above doing so for a young girl, especially one Ema was willing to do so for. He took the encouragement and more so, sweeping into a court bow.
“Good evening, meine Prinzessin,” he said– teasingly correcting Ema’s jet lagged estimate of the time, and giving the greeting his own personal flourish.
The girl relaxed somewhat, before she slowly walked towards them with the ringing of the bells around her ankles.
“Main Princess Sin? What is this silliness your friend spouts, Miss Skye?” the girl asked with a pout that seemed more curious than upset.
Ema snickered,
“It’s German, your benevolence. The glimmerous fop here’s always been fond of it.” She bumped his shoulder. “Klavier…meet Princess Rayfa Padma Khura’in. Future Queen of the country and a friend of mine.”
The girl dipped into a curtsy with a gentle smile “Good evening, Mr. Glimmerous.”
Klavier straightened up when Rayfa did, and flipped his hair with a bright and charming rock star smile. “Please, Prinzessin, my friends call me Klavier. Of course– you may call me anything you like.”
If there was one thing that made him feel more comfortable after no sleep and in a foreign country– it was putting on a show. That much at least was practically normal.
The princess put her finger to her chin, looking deep in thought for a long moment with a soft ‘hmmm’.
After a moment she smiled.
“Alright, Shaved Head.” She tapped her chin again– Klavier admittedly felt a little sensitive at the name. Only part of his hair was shaved after all… maybe he never should have… “or is Gold Head more appropriate?”
Gold head he liked better.
Ema had started to snicker into her hand. “Here we go…lucky man, you’re gettin’ one of Princess Rayfa’s famous nicknames.”
Rayfa kept her triumphant grin, before she tilted her head “are you another forensic scientist, Mr. Klavier?”
“Who, me?” He beamed brightly at her. “No, unfortunately I have no such luck to be among those esteemed ranks. I’m merely a prosecutor and a former rockstar, I’m afraid, prinzessin.”
“Rock star…?” Rayfa paced a little closer with a curious glint in her serious eyes. “You don’t look like a rock to me. I’m not stupid. You DO look like the sorts of prosecutors that Braid Head spoke of back in the states, though.”
“Forgive me, prinzessin, my guitar is with the rest of our luggage for now, ja?” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Admittedly, for the moment I am more prosecutor than rockstar. Who’s braid head?”
“……” Rayfa stared at him for a long moment, before she turned to Ema in exasperation. “why does he keep calling himself a star of rocks?” “Remember Pees’lubn Andistan’dhin?” Ema murmured to her with a look of amusement. “…and his music that he broke out during the trial? That’s rock music. Klavier’s just as loud as the guy but like, a hundred times nicer.”
Rayfa sniffed, and tossed a lock of her hair over her shoulder.
“So you’re a rockstar…or were. Yes. That makes sense. I knew that.” She pointed with a smile “If you’re a prosecutor then I’m glad to have you here, gold head! Braid Head could use some help!”
“Braid head?”
She paused a moment before she waved her hand “Miss Skye. Explain.”
“…that’s her nickname for her big brother, Klavier. Nahyuta.”
"Ahhh, of course, I should have known,” Klavier nodded graciously and filed the information away for later. “I have heard he is also a prosecutor. In fact, it’s him we’ve come to meet today.”
Rayfa seemed to suddenly become excited, leaning forward with a palpable air of excitement “are you here to help him prosecute the retrials faster?”
“Ehhhh…” Ema waved her hand from side to side. “Sorta, kinda. We’re actually looking for a place to sleep first.”
Prosecute trials faster– it wasn’t what he’d intended but if that was what was keeping Apollo from LA it wasn’t the worst idea he’d heard either.
“Indeed, prinzessin. We came to the country to visit my good friend, Apollo Justice. Perhaps you know him too?”
“HORN HEAD!” Rayfa’s smile spread across her face. “Yes! Apollo Justice is one of my gr–” she seemed to catch herself, and composed herself into a far less excited affect, her voice dropping and her smile growing muted as she nodded after glancing nervously over her shoulder.
“Apollo Justice is a good friend of the crown.”
Ema must have known what was happening from the way she quietly grimaced and glanced off to the side “Yeah, she’s taken quite the shine to me and Justice. I’d call us great friends.”
“That’s wonderful to hear,” Klavier nodded. He chuckled at the epithet. Horn head suited him. Maybe even better than ‘forehead’. “I’ve always thought that herr horn head needed more great friends, ja? Perhaps you’re a good influence on him, meine prinzessin.”
She covered her mouth with her hand, perhaps hiding the fact that the big grin had returned.
“I’m simply the best influence on everyone I meet…and I was such a good influence that horn head helped me save a few flowers from my garden just the other day!”
Ema turned towards her with a frown. “…wait, what happened to your garden?”
Klavier felt something in the back of his brain light up at the exchange and he put his arm around Ema with a big, affected smile. “Didn’t you hear her, fraulein? Apollo helped her save them, ja? Wonderful.”
Ema’s expression didn’t brighten.
“…that’s good to hear, ” she murmured as she half fell against Klavier, who put his arm around her. “I’ll see if I can take some time to keep an eye on them while I’m here, your benevolence.”
Rayfa’s fingers hid her mouth again as she nodded.
“Of course. If it makes you comfortable you are more than welcome, Investigator Skye…but yes. Horn Head is a wonderful man, and I am certain I’ve only ever been a good influence upon him.” She checked over her shoulder again before she whispered. “By the way, Investigator…can you teach me more about luminol later?”
Klavier watched the interaction with interest. He wondered if the princess was interested in detective work– or just interested in spending more time with Ema. Lady Justice knew that talking about forensics was the best way to get her attention.
Ema’s expression finally lit up, her muted anger evaporating into a big grin “well. If you have time, your benevolence…I’ll bring my kit and I’ll give you another lesson, okay?”
Rayfa squeezed her hands together with a look of genuine excitement in her clear green eyes.
“Thank you, Emma. I’ll request that mother give me some time to prepare.” She tilted her head at Klavier “….you, gold head.”
Actually interested in investigation then. Now wasn’t that interesting…
He performed a little bow for her. “Ja, prinzessin? How may I be of service?”
She peered at him with her arms crossing over her chest. “You and Miss Skye are close, are you not? You’ve got your arm about her. Are you her paramour?”
Klavier laughed and flushed, pressing his hands to his chest over his heart. “Ah well, who truly knows the heart of another? Fraulein, am I your paramour?”
Ema turned a bright red, and she started to sputter like a teakettle “YOUR BENEVOLENCE!” She whipped to look at Klavier “don’t encourage her!” she spit.
“It is a simple question.” Rayfa huffed with a note of petulance in her tone. “I simply wished to know if I should invite him to the lesson. He could tell me of prosecution in the United States…and perhaps more about rock music.”
Ema pressed both hands to her face , making a keening sound.
“Paramour….what the fu—frick kind of…I…hhh….” She looked up with a voice that came out nearly a growl “I suppose yes. In his way.”
Klavier smiled broadly– and naturally this time– rather delighted by her response. “In my way, ja. And prinzessin, I would be most happy to teach you of prosecution, and rock music too.”
Rayfa looked satisfied, and dipped into a low curtsy.
“Then I shall look forward to both your company, barring unfortunate incident or my duties.”
Ema was rubbing her face as she nodded “yeah, should be fun…”
“Perhaps we can do that after we catch up with this lord regent Nahyuta? Unless you could be so kind as to extend us accommodations, prinzessin?”
“I …can.” she admitted with a thoughtful rub of her chin again. “in a fashion. But perhaps you’d best speak with Nahyuta. I’m still going through my lessons, after all.”
“Ja, no problem there, prinzessin,” Klavier said with a smile. “We’re just waiting for him now– no trouble in waiting a little longer.”
“If you would like, you can wait in the garden.” Rayfa said as one of the guards approached her and whispered in her ear. She nodded seriously before smiling “that’s where his lodgings and palace office are, after all..”
Klavier chuckled. “Only if Ema declares the grand tour to be over. I haven’t seen the garden yet, in any case.”
Rayfa pouted again, her hands on her hips. “It’s the most beautiful part of the palace! Ema, you simply must! By royal decree!”
Ema held her hands up with a tired smile. “Of course, your benevolence. Come on, glimmerous fop. Let’s go look at Rayfa’s flowers. They really are pretty.”
October 3, 2028– 6:45 pm
Klavier happily trailed after Rayfa and Ema to the gardens. He had always expected that if he was in a palace it would be to play a rock show, but somehow the truth was far stranger and in some ways more magical, in its way. If tragic, too. What would Apollo say when he saw him?
Still he kept the thoughts in the back of his mind, and kept his tongue and the room happy talking about his old band to the princess, who seemed quite curious about it.
But as they headed out into the palatial gardens out of the dimly lit halls, Klavier heard another voice speaking.
“I can move a guard detachment here on a permanent basis if you command it, your grace,” a gruff voice offered.
“As loath as I am to allow it, given the calm and sanctity of our garden– I’ll give it due consideration, captain.” The voice answering was anything but gruff. It was rich and soft spoken, elegant yet surprisingly deep. “Either way, I’ll ensure such a display does not happen again.”
Rayfa’s eyes widened at the sound of the voice, and she vanished running past the verdant foliage towards it.
“What in the blazes…?” Ema murmured “something’s happened?”
Klavier cocked his head too, curious. “Some kind of incident it sounds like, fraulein. Shall we investigate?”
He grabbed her hand and tugged her forward after Rayfa– though at a bit less of an urgent pace.
Ema nodded, as the two of them hurried past the lattice and under the overhang that lead into the garden, and out into the sprawling green expanse….
The garden was beautiful, certainly…with green swaying grass and sparkling ponds surrounding cobblestone paths and walls leading to royal residences and two tall pagodas at it’s far ends…Klavier could see where brightly colored pink flowers mingled with others…though…far less than expected for a palace garden.
It looked like large sections had recently been torn out.
It was by one of those recently uprooted sections that a figure stood with Rayfa and a sharply uniformed palace guard near a section of wall.
The figure beside Rayfa put his hand on her head as she seemed to grow increasingly angry at whatever was on the wall before them. She had begun to physically shake as they whispered something down to her.
They were striking. A beautiful and androgynous figure with long and flowing white hair tied in a braid that reached their legs, clad in a stiff white coat with a high collar and pants that were lined with gold that caught the sun, and clasped at the elbows with golden bangles. Long eyelashes lay half lidded over brilliant green eyes, and painted lips murmured comfort down at the furious Rayfa.
Caught in the wind, a scarf of filmy fabric framed them like a halo as they looked over their shoulder at the two of them.
“Ah, visitors…I’m afr–”
They paused before smiling with what Klavier could only imagine was recognition and even subtle affection “Ah, Investigator Skye. I was hoping you might return soon.”
Klavier could immediately see what Ema– and apparently Apollo– saw in him. Looking at him felt less like looking on a man and more like looking at some beautiful godling descended from one of the enchanting heavens. A strange mixture of jealousy and desire welled up in Klavier’s heart and he felt a familiar urge.
He swept into another bow. “Ah, mein engle, you must be the prosecutor prince that I have not heard enough about, ja?”
The guard standing behind Nahyuta, armed with an AK-47 gave Klavier a hairy eyeball, but Klavier didn’t pay attention to that.
Nahyuta smiled, a small and subtle thing, and huffed a quiet breath as his fingers formed a position of prayer, middle and ring fingers forming a circle with his thumb and his pinkie and forefinger extended…one hand pointing up and the other down.
“Prosecutor Prince…is that how you’ve been describing me, Miss Skye?” He turned his eyes to Klavier after they opened again. He seemed to scrutinize him for an instant before he pointed his extended fingers towards him.
“…Klavier Gavin. Of the Gaviners. Am I correct?”
Ema had gone rigid and flushed “no! The prosecutor prince thing is Klav—” she paused “…wait you KNOW him???”
“I’m honored to be recognized in such a far off land, mein prinz,” he purred, his smile widening especially at Ema’s flustered reaction. He rose slowly from his bow, looking Nahyuta over one more time– but subtly. “I am afraid the Gavinners are no more, but I remain. A humble prosecutor– humbler still in such magnificent company, ja?”
Nahyuta chuckled quietly under his breath, and as he shifted position Klavier could see the source of Rayfa’s fury…someone had painted something over the wall’s surface. She was still shaking over the guard when Nahyuta seemed to look over Klavier for a moment himself, with a subtle flick of the eyes. He was a tall, lithe figure..with delicate fingers and the tattoo of a coiled dragon against his palm. He tilted his head, and his hair shifted against his cheek.
“I’d listened to a fair bit of your discography while I was studying the culture of LA in preparation for my trials.”
“My condolences to your ears, Nahyuta.” Ema snickered, though like all of her barbs about his music it lacked any real venom.
Nahyuta chuckled at that.
“I found it…interesting, dear. If I recall, I’d gotten some of the recordings from your office” He took a step forward and offered his delicate hand “there is no need to humble yourself, Mr. Gavin– really it’s I who should be humbled that you’ve come to visit our country, though I wish the circumstances weren’t so…”
“HEINOUS! EVIL!” Rayfa stomped her foot behind him “How DARE THEY!”
“That.” He gestured towards her with a soft sigh.
Klavier tossed his hair out of his face as he straightened up, and peered over at the offending wall. Graffiti had been sprayed across it– very dire looking piece of graffiti indeed, even at first glance. It depicted what seemed to be dead and wilted flowers, over which was written a broad slogan in letters that Klavier couldn’t read.
“Ah,” Klavier nodded. “What a shame— there’s been a crime committed, ja? What does the slogan say?”
Nahyuta pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
“Indeed. …it says ‘Khura’in belongs to the people’. “ He glanced up at him “…you’re close with Investigator Skye, no? If so I can trust you with this. There’s been some…unrest, as of late. Unrest we hadn’t expected after the deposing of Queen Ga’ran.”
Rayfa had started to sniffle, but pressed her hands to her face to stifle them “…it’s my fault.”
“Unrest, I see,” Klavier nodded and stroked his chin. “Of course, mein prinz, you may trust me implicitly. As for fault, I hardly see how it could be yours, prinzessin?”
Nahyuta shifted to put his hand on Rayfa’s shoulder with a concerned furrow of his brow.
“it couldn’t possibly be the case. Even Mr. Gavin agrees.” he sighed “…it seems some of our Defiant Dragons, the group my father organized, have decided that the whole monarchy must go rather than simply the singular bad ruler.”
Ema walked quietly up to the graffiti and began to examine it with a frown.
“Huh…wonder if we can get a handwriting analysis…track down who made it…or maybe there’s some traces left…hair stuck in the paint, or something.”
Rayfa stomped her foot again, and turned. Her face was red and tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as her fists shook in front of her.
“It’s …it’s…it’s my fault because they hate me for my father an…for Inga and Ga’ran! They must see me as a …a spoiled little imitation of them!” The way she spat the words, they sounded like someone else’s.
Klavier raised his eyebrow, and glanced from Rayfa to Nahyuta, to Ema. He was starting to get a sense that he didn’t like.
“Well, prinzessin, I think fraulein Ema is right– we must track down this criminal and see what they have to say for themselves, ja? Somehow I doubt that you are the source of their complaints, but if you are, then they can see for themselves how wrong they are– don’t you think?”
Nahyuta nodded slowly.
“…that perhaps would be for the best. I’ll increase the guard and set up a perimeter…we’ll investigate and see if we can Holy Mother willing, find and bring the culprit to justice and understanding. Will you assist us in this, Mr. Gavin?”
He glanced at Ema with that subtle smile again “Investigator Skye is already on the job, of course. And I’ll have to send word to Apollo and Datz to have them visit the Defiant Dragons sooner than we’d hoped.”
Rayfa sniffed, and wiped at her eyes. “how wrong they are, indeed…”
Klavier reached out to put his hand on Rayfa’s back– then he looked at the guard with the gun again, and stopped. He had no idea if it was acceptable here to put a hand on royalty. He’d heard stories about people getting their hands cut off.
He knelt, instead.
“Your majesty, in all the stories I know, a princess is a symbol of hope and strength for her people. A shining star to be cherished and admired– much like a rock star for Americans, ja? I am sure that for your people, it is no different.”
Rayfa blinked at him in surprise, her eyes going wide under her fringe of hair.
“…oh..oh my, mr. Gold Head…a shining star to be cherished and admired, like a rock star…”
Nahyuta put his hand to his chin with a subtle smile “interesting analogy, but I can concede to the logic. He is, as expected of a prosecutor, correct. For our people it is no different…save for in the hearts of those who wish to stir trouble in their ignorance.”
“Criminals with troubled hearts,” Klavier said, shaking his head. “A princess should pity someone like that, not take their words to heart, ja?”
He stood up again and brushed his hair out of his face and looked to Ema. “Fraulein, would it be appropriate for me to take a photograph of this graffiti? I have a friend in America who might be able to tell us something useful about its dubious artist if she sees it.”
Rayfa nodded as she wiped at her eyes. “…of course. I won’t take their words to heart, Mr. Gavin…I’ll endeavor to find pity for them.”
Nahyuta placed his hand on her back for a moment before he hummed. “a friend who can speak to the nature of graffiti?”
Somehow Ema snapped out of her scientific haze enough to whip around and point to Klavier “snap away. If you’ve got an expert, then you’d better get them on the line asap.”
Klavier pulled his phone out of his pocket, and centered a photograph of the graffiti. It might take a while before it got enough of a signal to get to its recipient, but he’d do his best.
“Ja, I think Ema maybe knows her. She is in the police academy right now, training to become a forensic scientist. But she’s already a master of art analysis and detecting forgeries.Fraulein, you remember Vera Misham?”
Ema stepped out of frame, before she snapped her fingers with a smile.
“ah! Of course I remember Vera.” She chuckled “…actually, I’d been really happy to hear she’d gone to the academy. And you aren’t wrong, if anyone can analyze this , it’s her.”
“Obviously we’ll want to compare it to any other graffiti that might be seen around here, ja? But my assumption is we don’t have a lot of examples to compare it to.”
Klavier had switched from one type of performance to another. Honestly, he loved to perform as a rock star– but prosecution– investigation– was even more compelling sometimes. A mystery was so wonderfully distracting.
“Not terribly many, no.” Nahyuta hummed with his fingers once more in prayer “but there’s some in some of the old Defiant Dragons safehouses and bases.”
Ema brushed her hair out of her face, and bent down low over the ground with one hand in her pockets. “Let’s get some photographic proof of that…in the meantime, I’m going to see if I can find any traces…Yuta, is my ad-hoc lab still up and running here?”
“But of course.” he closed his eyes “it’s an earthly attachment I couldn’t bring myself to remove. Not with the threat of one of your own sermons hanging in the air.”
“Tch.” Ema smirked, “good. I’ll run some tests if I find anything.”
“Sounds like the game is on, ja, Fraulein? Finding our accommodations can wait.”
Ema looked up with a broad smile. “the game’s afoot, Klavier. Who needs rest when we’ve got a mystery?!”
