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The Phosphorous FilesTopic%20Title
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Trucy cosplaying Edgeworth

Gender: None specified

Location: San Francisco, Japanifornia

Rank: Suspect

Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 2:57 am

Posts: 25

Title: The Turnabout Affair
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Characters: Adrien Sandoval (OC), Belinda Phosphor (OC)
Warnings: SPOILERS for Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney
Summary: Belinda Phosphor, a coworker of Mia Fey's, deals with her death.

The Turnabout Affair

Spoiler: Fic under the cut
September 6, 7:09 AM
Phosphorous Law Offices
Ballet Studio

This story starts with a dance. Belinda Phosphor, clad in lavender leotard and matching ballet slippers, pirouettes to the tinny music coming through small speakers on a table. The music of Swan Lake soars as she spins, faster and faster, her yellow hair with red streaks up in a bun that makes a circle from above. She stops on a dime, and returns to starting position as the tune of another piece fills the small studio.

Belinda prepares to dance once more, but a young person bursts through the door before she gets a chance. They are far shorter than Belinda, with flaming red hair almost completely covered by an orange cap. They have a kind face that is wracked with concern. This person’s name is Adrien Sandoval, and they will become quite pertinent to the story in a moment. Before that, look at the imposing figure of Belinda Phosphor. She is tall, with magenta hearing aids, and where before was focused on dancing, her face now wears an expression of surprise.

Adrien has just said “Miss Phosphor! A defense attorney has been murdered!” This, one might expect, explains why Belinda now looks so worried.

“Who?” she says, shock crossing her face, then returning to invest in long-term housing.

“M-Miss Mia Fey, Miss,” says Adrien, fidgeting with a pin on their lapel. It says ‘Reply loading...’, and despite its wittiness, Adrien is hardly calmed by touching it.

Several expressions flicker across Belinda’s face, first the shock left over from the previous revelation, displeasure finally showing over being called ‘Miss Phosphor’, instead of ‘Belinda’, surprise at the victim Adrien named, and finally sorrow, for she knew the victim well.

Adrien resumed worrying mostly about Belinda’s silence, but partly about the idea of a murderer targeting defense attorneys. “Miss?” Adrien says. “Are you alright?” They wave a hand slightly, to see if Belinda is still conscious of her surroundings.

“I’m...” Belinda trails off. She thinks for a bit, then says in a sad voice. “I don’t know.”

“Miss, do I know Miss Fey? You certainly seem to.” Adrien put a finger on their cheek in thought. “I think I’ve met her, her name seems familiar somehow.”

Belinda closes her eyes for a moment. “I... believe you met her at the Grossberg Offices reunion party.” She opens her eyes and smiles. “Yes, that’s it! It was a year ago, do you remember?”

Adrien’s recollection comes to their mind in a flash. “Was she the one with the white yin-yang-thing for a necklace?”

“Yes!” Belinda beams, her eyes shining. “That’s an heirloom, I think. Something vaguely mystical like that.” A weak smile replaces the bright one, as if the memory is painful. “She was so excited to meet you. She said you reminded her a bit of her sister with your enthusiasm.”

Adrien snorts derisively.

“Don’t deny it, Adrien, you have a real passion for the law.” Belinda puts her hands on her hips, smiling triumphantly at her protege. “She even said you were coming along better than her understudy, and you can’t deny that.”

Adrien looks sheepish. “Well—“

“Do you know how incredibly proud I was when she told me that? You are a star, kid. Accept it.” Belinda smiles, then signs, the joy of the situation sucked away by the dire news.

Adrien looks pained, their mentor is usually such a positive presence. “There’s going to be a trial tomorrow, Miss Phosphor. You might want to know that the defendant is Miss Fey’s sister, Maya Fey.”

“That’s obviously a mistake; Maya’s two years younger than you are!” Belinda frowns in annoyance The police force can’t really think a child did it, that’s ridiculous.

Adrien’s hands ball into fists and their eyes narrow. “What, teenagers can’t commit crimes?” they cry, adamantly.

Belinda rolls her eyes. “Adrien, please! That’s hardly the point!”

There is some silence as Adrien flounders for a witty comeback, but instead of retorting, Adrien asks “Was Miss Fey special to you? If it were any other lawyer, we’d be on our way to the courthouse right now. What about Miss Fey makes you paralyzed with grief?” It’s a tad melodramatic, but it works on Belinda. Mostly.

“No, she wasn’t special, other than being my friend,” Belinda lies, eyes turned away from Adrien.

Adrien sees right through it, to the shadowy past beyond. They ready their index finger, then point it emphatically at Belinda. “Hold it!” they interject. “You’re lying! You contradicted yourself! You say she isn’t special, but then say she is because she’s your friend! What is the truth, Miss Belinda!”

Belinda is startled by this, and stumbles back a few steps. She looks regretful, as if this could have been avoided. “You’ve honed your lawyerly skills well, Adrien. I suppose I did too good of a job training you. Alright, here’s the truth.”

Belinda begins after a deep breath and avoidance of eye contact. Not that Adrien ever makes eye contact. “As I’ve already told you, Mia was a coworker and a friend at Grossberg law offices. I wanted more than her friendship, you see. I was in love with her. I never got a chance to tell her because of the chaos of her first case, the death of her boyfriend, and then we got offices on the opposite sides of the state... I last saw her a month ago to congratulate her understudy on his first case. You were visiting your relatives, that’s why I didn’t bring you with me.”

Adrien looks shifty, like they’re hiding something, but luckily for them, Belinda doesn’t notice.

“I tried to tell her then, but... it didn’t work out that way. I think—“ Belinda chokes on her words. “No, I know that I’ll never know if she ever felt the same way.” Belinda sobs. I can’t believe she’s gone, that I’ll never get this off my chest, that I’ll never see that smile of hers again.”

(Now I’ve done it. Nice job, jerk,) thinks Adrien, then hugs Belinda as she cries, saying “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. You have your memories, and that will be enough.”

Belinda finishes crying after a long while, sniffling. “Thank you, Adrien. I needed that.”

Adrien smiles, a bit rakishly. “Which one? The infodump, the hug, or the cry?”

Belinda beams. “All three!” She then gets a tad more serious. “So, tell me about the trial.”

Adrien digs in their bag and pulls out a paper, reading bits and pieces and turning them into an explanation. “The murder of Miss Fey was committed with the statue of the Thinker—“

“From her understudy’s first case! His name is Phoenix Wright, if you’re curious. He’s a very good man, very polite.”

Adrien glares at her. “Please don’t interrupt, it’s difficult enough to focus on my notes with the music still playing.”

Belinda busies herself turning the music off as Adrien continues “Prime suspect is Miss Maya Fey, as the name Maya was written in blood at the scene. Mister Phoenix Wright, yes the same one, is defending her, and Mister Miles Edgeworth is prosecuting. Okay, I’m done, Miss Belinda.”

“I’m so glad you’re calling me by my first name, Adrien.” Belinda then processes what was said and blinks in surprise. “Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth? Two rising stars? Well that’s settled.”

“What is?” says Adrien, puzzled.

“We’re going, of course! To watch those boys duke it out and go make sure Mia’s protege does not go unwitnessed! Pack your bags, kid. We’re going to Los Angeles.”

Last edited by PhosphorousLaw on Thu Sep 27, 2018 1:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The Phosphorous FilesTopic%20Title
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Trucy cosplaying Edgeworth

Gender: None specified

Location: San Francisco, Japanifornia

Rank: Suspect

Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 2:57 am

Posts: 25

Title: Phoenix Wright: Ace Barista

Disclaimer : I do not endorse the actions of anyone in this fic. Especially not PW. Asking out someone at work is Not Good.

Your name is Phoenix Wright and trying to get coffee has never been harder than today. Because today, the cute barista you had been eyeing each time you came in is the one serving you coffee. Normally, an old guy named Winston is your barista, but this cute one doesn’t know your order. And you can’t help yourself.

“Medium coffee with cream and 7 sugars. And your number.”

His face doesn’t move at all in response. He just holds a resting grumpy face that you find oh so pretty. “Yes, sir. And no, absolutely not.” He leaves to bustle behind the counter, making your coffee and you notice as he goes that he has a great tush too. Next to you, someone orders from Winston, who smiles and taps his glasses as he takes it. When the cute barista comes back, you notice his only his last name is on his badge. It says ‘Mr. Edgeworth’, no first name or anything. “It’s almost done, feel free to sit down.” The lively words don’t reach his voice, and it’s obvious he’s speaking from a script. “Name?”

“Yours first, ‘Mr. Edgeworth’.” You place your fists on your hips, smiling in a triumphant way.

He sighs. “NAME?” It’s practically a Batman whisper-shout, dark and menacing.

You yelp and jump, knocking into a different barista, a blonde one, delivering a drink to a customer, knocking the drink into the air. You lunge to grab it, but it doesn’t come down. The barista who was carrying it swirls it over your head, speaking to Edgeworth. “Bullying another customer, Herr Edgeworth?”

Edgeworth grunts and bustles behind the counter again. You pick yourself up and dust off, embarrassed. Everyone must’ve seen you make a fool of yourself.


Your name is Miles Edgeworth, not that you’re going to tell the admittedly cute but infuriatingly flirty customer that. Getting chastised by Klavier of all people isn’t helping your stormcloud of a mood. He’s almost worse at customer service than you are, what with his flirting and his German. Somehow he swings it, unlike your brooding nature.

The customer, who still hasn’t told you his name, stands up from a lunge to grab spilled coffee, smiling sheepishly. “My name’s Phoenix. P-H-O-E-N-I-X.”

You pointedly ignore the spelling and write ‘Feenie’ on the cup. You hand it to him and that’s almost the end of it, but he looks almost like a kicked puppy, and you’ve always been partial to dogs. “My name’s Miles.” Your hands touch as he grabs the cup and he blushes. You watch him as he leaves, practically running, but leaping occasionally to give a whoop. He’s going to spill his coffee that way, but you have a feeling he’s not going to mind.


A few days later…

You’ve been seeing him around the coffee shop, but Winston’s gone back to being your regular. Miles. What a pretty name. When you arrived today though, he’s there, typical scowl on his face. “Medium coffee, with cream and seven sugars,” you recite, grinning at him.

Some time passes, but when he calls ‘Feenie’, you know it’s you and go to the counter. You bring your game this time and make a show of checking all your pockets and your briefcase before saying “Shoot, I lost my number! Can I have yours?”

He returns with stony silence. But eventually, he grabs the pen back and writes his number on your cup. You are momentarily close as he passes it to you and he says “Tell no one.” And that’s the first time you see Edgeworth smile, even if if is a sort of smirk.

Last edited by PhosphorousLaw on Sat Sep 22, 2018 1:12 am, edited 2 times in total.
Re: The Phosphorous FilesTopic%20Title
User avatar

Trucy cosplaying Edgeworth

Gender: None specified

Location: San Francisco, Japanifornia

Rank: Suspect

Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 2:57 am

Posts: 25


Summary: Maya, looking back, realizes that she actually has issues because of Morgan. Phoenix takes her to Edgeworth so they can talk it out and heal.

Spoiler: Repaired
Maya slumped on the couch, letting a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She had been channeling Mia on and off all day, which was always tiring, but today she was close to a meltdown. She felt the tears brimming in her eyes, and remembered that she hadn’t even eaten today. Well, shoot. Looks like she had a one-way ticket to meltdown city.


Phoenix walked in after almost half an hour, he had to finish the investigation first, after all. He knew Maya was tired so he let her go home, but when he did return, she was nowhere to be found. “Maya?”

A groan from the bathroom.

He knocked, gently. “I thought we could go get some burgers, at that joint you like.”

She groaned again, and there was a retching noise.

He opened the door to see Maya curled up into a little ball, her stomach growling endlessly. He sighed. “Maya, you should’ve told me you were this hungry.”

She shot him a glare, which was made a lot less imposing by the fact she had tears streaming down her face.

“Sorry, but usually you’re really good about remembering to eat! I don’t have to remind you like Gumshoe has to remind Edgeworth.” He turned to leave. “I’ll get bike-thru and be right back, okay?”

She nodded, and thought about how she got into this mess. And why she was feeling so damn guilty! It’s not like she chose to forget to eat, or to channel Mia all day, it was just necessary. Nick seemed fine, of course, but he had his own issues, ones bigger than forgetting to eat. It took her a second, but she figured out exactly why she was feeling so guilty. It wasn’t a reason so much as a name. Morgan. When Maya had melted down, Morgan had always been kicking her to get back up. Not while Sis was around, of course. Not while Pearly was around either. Only when it was just Morgan and Maya, that’s when Morgan had been cruel. She dismissed Maya’s feelings, just how overwhelmed she was, her thoughts, because she wasn’t ‘normal’. Morgan often said “It’s all in your head,” and “Mystic Mia doesn’t cry like this”. Remembering those days hurt. That was probably why she didn’t try to remember unless she was already hurting, when more pain wouldn’t make any difference. She sobbed into her knees, wishing she had been better prepared for the day.


Miles Edgeworth was doing paperwork when there was a knock at his office door. He shuffled the papers into some semblance of the correct order, then said “Enter.”

Phoenix Wright entered and Edgeworth frowned. They were working on a case against each other, why would he come to see him? Not that it was unwelcome, quite the opposite in fact. He was growing deathly bored with the paperwork, where it was usually calming, it was repetitive and tedious. Edgeworth realized why Wright had come in when he saw the girl behind Wright, Maya Fey. Her face was tear-streaked, and Edgeworth knew from experience that was sign number one of a meltdown. Sign number two was in her bearing, curled up and hunches. The third sign was her shakiness, which confirmed beyond a doubt in Edgeworth’s mind his friend had had a meltdown. He stood up from the desk, concerned. “Maya? What happened?” His voice was flat as ever, he was too worried to make the effort to reflect his emotions in it.

Wright stepped behind Maya, allowing her to speak. He then remembered she was nonverbal at the moment, so be began explaining, embarrassed. “She forgot to eat and was channeling all day today. Also, she realized her guardian was abusive. Think you could help?” He was holding a sheet of paper where Maya’s scrawl explained about Morgan. Wright looked at Maya for confirmation, and she nodded.

So he handed the paper to Edgeworth, who read it. I just remembered that Morgan was a worse guardian than I thought. Abusive worse, Nick. Do you think Mr. Edgeworth can help? Remember Mr. von Karma and how he was Mr. Edgeworth’s guardian? I think we might have even more in common than we thought.

Edgeworth remembered von Karma, of course he did. The man had made his life hell for fifteen years, he wasn’t someone you just forgot. Edgeworth grabbed some paper and a ballpoint pen from his desk and offered them to Maya. She nodded and accepted them while Edgeworth turned to Wright. “Do you mind leaving us, Wright? I’ll return your assistant before it gets too late, alright?”

Wright nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you in court tomorrow, Edgeworth.” He left, giving Maya a hug before he did so.

Maya used one of the sheets of paper and wrote Can I have a clipboard or something? I don’t think I’ll be talking for a while...

Edgeworth blinked, feeling a tad foolish. “Of course.” He dug around in his desk, trying to find some kind of portable writing surface. He didn’t find one, so he grabbed a book from low on the shelf, one on the finer points of the German law system. He handed it to her with a warning “Please be careful, don’t press too hard.”

Maya nodded. She was feeling a bit better already. So... Do I start? Do you start? Do we just sit in silence forever? What’s the plan here?

Edgeworth looked solemn. “You should probably start, you’re the one who had the meltdown today.”

When was the last time you had a meltdown, Mr. Edgeworth? asked Maya, changing the subject.

“When I was nine. I do have shutdowns now, a lot more often than I ever had meltdowns.” There was a silence, free of Maya’s scribbling. “You really should talk about it. I’m told it helps.”

You first.Maya stuck out her tongue, a tad petulant.

Edgeworth cleared his throat. “Alright then. Manfred von Karma was abusive, both emotionally and physically on occasion.” He paced back and forth as he spoke, talking with his hands. “I was never allowed to be myself, I always had to be the perfect pawn” –he spat the word like it was poisonous– “for him to play with, not a person at all.” Edgeworth slammed his hands on the desk, from the opposite side of where his chair was. He was shaking. “I was nothing to him, nothing but an instrument of revenge. He set me up to succeed then pushed me into despair; he made me who I was then took that away. And yet... I can’t bring myself to hate him, not even for that.” He looked down and shook his head. “He trained me like a dog. Like a dog, Maya. He would shout at me until I stopped moving my hands. Until I stopped moving altogether. He took the joy out of flapping my hands, Maya. He is the reason
I shut down almost daily. But I still can’t hate my mentor.” He looked at her with tears in his eyes but a demented smile in his lips. “Even after all he’s done.”


After Edgeworth calmed down, it was Maya’s turn. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, only to have nothing emerge. She frowned, she wanted to speak but it seemed she was stuck nonverbal. My story isn’t as dramatic as yours but I should probably tell it anyway. She settled further into the couch next to Edgeworth (who had sit down), allowing him to look over her shoulder as she wrote.

My aunt Morgan raised me since I was two.

“And she got you diagnosed at eleven, correct?” Edgeworth confirmed.

Maya nodded. But after my diagnosis she started treating me different. She had always dismissed my feelings and my meltdowns, but she went out of her way to belittle me after my diagnosis.

“How? If you don’t mind me asking.”

She’d say “Cheer up, you’ve got nothing to worry about ,” and “It’s just your disorder, Mystic Maya, you’re better than it.” A few tears trickled down Maya’s face, pulled from her by the memory. She made me feel so guilty and stupid. Like I was useless.

Edgeworth scooted closer to Maya, checking for confirmation before putting an arm awkwardly around her shoulder.

Maya stopped writing for a bit and cried, taking in shaky breaths. She turned her head into Edgeworth’s chest and he tightened his arm around her protectively, despairing for his friend. She was so bright and joyous, but she had the most difficult life. Much like himself, Edgeworth supposed. But where he had turned away from the world, she turned towards it with open arms. She was cheerful, and such a good influence on him.

She stopped crying, sniffling a bit, then turned to her friend properly, looking at his face. “Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth,” she said.

“Anytime, Maya.”
Re: The Phosphorous FilesTopic%20Title
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Trucy cosplaying Edgeworth

Gender: None specified

Location: San Francisco, Japanifornia

Rank: Suspect

Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 2:57 am

Posts: 25

I’m doing this by the book, it’s the only way I know how. I also threw out all continuity with my management but whatever.

Important: Adrien uses They/Them pronouns! It’s not obvious here, but it’s a fact! Please respect that!
Note: When the characters use sign language, it’s enclosed in <>.

Title: The Strange Second Life of Miles Edgeworth
Author: orphan_account

Rating: :sahwit: :sahwit: Two sahwits, it’s not too bad but it’s certainly confusing.

Our Sporkers are...

The Defence Attorney, age 38, Belinda Phosphor!

What is this place?

The Junior Defense Attorney, age 29, Adrien Sandoval-Castle!
This feels really sketchy.

The Ace Mathematician, age 17, Lisette Benn!
Whoa, we were finally invited someplace that wasn’t law related!

[Three new faces are teleported into the theater without too much ceremony.]

Belinda: *pulls the invitation out of her pocket* “Belinda Phosphor, you are cordially invited to the Sporking Theater.” *stuffs it back in* So is this it then?

Adrien: Looks like it, it’s got a snack buffet.

[Lisette gravitates toward the snacks immediately, but finds that there are only gushers.]

Lisette: What kind of snack bar is this?

Speakers: A clever one. The fic describes itself as a gusher, thus we provide.

All: AH!

Speakers: Do not worry about us, we are The Management.

Lisette: So what do we do here, *sarcastically* oh great and powerful management?

Speakers: That is Management with a capital M, young lady. And you are here to snark at horrible Fan Fiction!

Lisette: Ohhhhh, so that kind of spork. Well, folks looks like we’re about to get MST3K in here.

Adrien & Belinda: ?

Adrien: Miss Lisette, can you explain what the heck they mean? And what you mean?

Lisette: You don’t get it? Oh right, you and Belinda are normies. *cracks knuckles* Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me. So, sporking is reading bad fanfiction and talking about it to keep your sanity. Sometimes the fanfiction isn’t that bad, but you’re still expected to be sassy at it. Remember that one time we sat down and watched Armageddon together and Adrien wouldn’t shut up? Like that.

Adrien: Just because I have a sense of logic that you don’t—

Belinda: Addie, please. Don’t let her rile you up. So, Lissy, we criticize the logical flaws and things like that?

Lisette: Yup!

Speakers: The Management requests all of you enter the theater.

[The sporkers obey, Adrien sulking at the end of the line. They sit down, Lisette eagerly grabbing the middle seat and Belinda and Adrien choosing the two seats on the sides.]
Miles Edgeworth

Belinda: Oh my goodness, it’s about little Miles Edgeworth? I didn’t know he was so famous he got fanfiction written about him!

Adrien: Oh no, can you imagine fanfiction about us? We’re relatively famous as well.

Lisette: I can imagine it, I’ve written it!

Belinda: Feel free to share.

Adrien: Or don’t.
was a normal person until the headaches started and the dreams followed. He had a happy childhood, a loving family, a woman he wanted to marry, a lovely daughter, two best friends (one who was finally settling down with the man of his dreams), and a successful law firm.

Lisette: Two best friends? I don’t think he even had one, from what I’ve heard.

Belinda: That’s pretty mean, Lissy.

Adrien: As long as she’s not teasing me, I’m not complaining.

Lisette: And isn’t Miles gay?

Adrien: Miss Belinda, what did you tell her?

Belinda: Nothing! (That’s the last time I tell her my theories.)
But in the wake of his dreams he starts to question if his reality is real as he peers into a world where everything feels so potent that it starts to affect how he relates to people in real life.
What can you do when you begin to question the very fabric of your own reality and everything you've ever held dear?

Adrien: How relatable.
Please give this a chance. I'm begging you.

Lisette: Oof. Not a good sign.

Adrien: Imagine a New York Times review being like this. Would that make you want to read the book?
Weep not for roads untraveled, Weep not for paths left alone. Cause beyond every bend
Is a long, blinding end.
It’s the worst kind of pain I’ve known.
-Roads Untraveled, Linkin Park

Belinda: Lissy, what does this mean?

Lisette: It means it was inspired by a song? I think.
Noise. Clamor
Belinda: Hullabaloo!

Lisette: Cacophony!

Adrien: Uh, din?
Miles rolled onto his side and reached out, fumbling for the bedside table with a groan.

Adrien: Hard to believe that the author knows Mr. Edgeworth personally, let alone is close enough to him to use his first name.

Lisette: Maybe they’re like me, and always use first names?

Adrien: Have I ever told you how immensely disrespectful that is?

Lisette: Yep! I don’t care though!
He had a splitting headache, and thought that maybe he had stayed out a little too late last night, celebrating his partner’s latest courtroom victory. Beside him, he could feel stirring, and glanced over his shoulder to find the little girl who now lived with him curled up beside him, her breathing indicating that she was starting to wake up.

Belinda: Last I checked, Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth is too busy to have children.

Adrien: He’s Chief Prosecutor now?

Belinda: Only for LA. Here in The City, we’ve still got old Chief Prosecutor Grumpypants.

Adrien: Mr. Lawson really doesn’t like it when you call him that, Miss Belinda.

Lisette: That's why she does it!
She had gone to bed in her own room last night, but she had a way of worming her way underneath his sheets most nights. He couldn't blame her, though. Trucy was a lonely girl whose father had abandoned her, and though his career had nearly been compromised by the forged evidence she had given him, he didn’t have it in his heart to blame her.

Belinda: Wait, what? What? That happened to Phoenix Wright, not Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth! What is going on here?

Lisette: Maybe it’s an AU?

Adrien: A what?

Lisette: Oh, an alternate universe.

Belinda: Seems a very bizarre one to me.
He shifted, sitting up as he carefully turned off the alarm and slipped out from beneath the sheets, shivering as his feet hit the oak floorboards. He found his phone lying on the bedside table and picked it up. It was one of the new one that Uncle Ray had insisted he have for keeping in touch,

Adrien: One of the new one? If only it were one of the new spellcheckers.
and though Miles was a bit old fashioned, he was grateful for text messaging right now.
I’m coming over to make breakfast for you and Trucy. You can’t flip pancakes to save your life.

Lisette: Ohoho, who’s this?

Belinda: I bet it’s that best friend mentioned in the summary.
He paused, then suddenly, violently, went to find better pants.

Lisette: I suddenly, violently, tried to find better words to put in my fanfiction.
Miles knew that she wouldn't mind seeing him in his boxer briefs,

Adrien: Did not need to see that today.

Lisette: Yeah, why hasn’t he put clothes on yet?
but thought it was better to be wearing something slightly more dignified and much less revealing.
After all, accidents happened.

Once he was properly clothed,

Lisette: Thank you!
he scrolled through the rest of his messages idly, sitting with his legs flung over the side of the bed. It was nothing remarkable, really, a few texts from Uncle Ray and some disgruntled hangover texts from Phoenix.

Lisette: Phoenix is the one Miles is ‘shagging’, right?

Belinda: Yes.

Adrien: What? No! This isn’t true! Miss Belinda, stop feeding her misinformation!

Belinda: Only if you can stop me!
Miles didn’t have much sympathy for him, frankly speaking. Phoenix was the one responsible for his own actions, and if he had decided to get drunk and ---
oh my god miles help i went home with franziska
That was really his problem, wasn’t it?

Belinda: Oh, that would be Prosecutor Franziska von Karma. She left the country after Mr. Wright defeated her in court.

Lisette: Are you a human lawyerdex? Do you just know all lawyers that Phoenix went against in court?

Belinda: I get the Los Angeles Times as well as the San Francisco Chronicle for a reason. Also, I’ve got to keep up with what Mimi’s protege is doing, otherwise what kind of friend would I be?

Adrien: (She’s dead, Miss Belinda. You aren’t in her debt anymore.)

Belinda: Adrien, shush.

Adrien: I didn’t say anything!

Belinda: You were going to. And I wasn’t going to like it.

Lisette: Who’s Mimi?

Adrien: Miss Mia Fey, one of Miss Belinda’s coworkers.

Lisette: She must be pretty special to get a nickname.

Belinda: She was special all right.
Still, he shot off a message telling Phoenix to relax. It was bound to happen eventually. After all, those two had been making eyes at each other from across the courtroom since ... Well, since Miles could remember, really. Sometimes, he felt more like Phoenix’s babysitter than his best friend and business partner.

Belinda: So he is the best friend? Well, I suppose that’s one way to interpret their relationship.

Adrien: You are so out of line right now I don’t know where to begin.

Lisette: Yeah, Belinda. Don’t ship real people, unless you’re positive it’s true.

Adrien: What Miss Lisette said. (I didn’t understand any of it, but I’m sure it was helpful.)

Belinda: (I didn’t understand what she said so I’ll just smile and nod.)
He wondered how the Law Offices of Edgeworth & Wright survived.

Belinda: But Prosecutor Edgeworth is a prosecutor! They wouldn’t share a law office!

Adrien: I think you’re giving this more thought than the author did.
Miles turned around to find Trucy stirring, and placed his phone back on top of the table, smiling softly as she squirmed out from underneath the blankets, reaching out for him. Gently, he reached out and scooped her up into his arms, sitting her on his lap where she settled, sleepily rubbing her eyes.
“Good morning, Trucy,”

Adrien: Didn’t we go to a magic show of Miss Trucy Wright's?

Lisette: *thoughtful* How do you know all this? Seems to me like you’re stalking Phoenix.

Belinda: Just keeping tabs so I know when he needs my help!

Lisette: That’s something a stalker would say. Do you have a crush on him, Belinda?

Belinda: NO! I mean, no. You know me, I’m a capital L lesbian.

Lisette: Likely story.

Adrien: Miss Lisette, Miss Belinda, please.
[‘Miles’ cuddles with Trucy and reminisces about his own father.]

“I promise. Now let’s go. Mia is coming over to make us pancakes, and you know she doesn’t like when I keep her waiting.”

Belinda: *blanches*

Adrien: Oh no.

Lisette: ?
[Mia rings the bell and it takes a paragraph.]

Adrien: Oh nonononono. You are not going there, fanfiction. Do not torment my mentor like this.
His face relaxed after a moment, and he was smiling again when Trucy opened the door to reveal Mia Fey, grocery bags hanging from her arms.

Belinda: …

Lisette: What’s going on with Belinda?

Belinda: It looks so much like her…

Adrien: To put it simply, Miss Lisette, she had a crush on Miss Fey, and now this fanfiction is bringing back all those painful memories.

Lisette: Doesn’t sound like they’d be painful.

Adrien: *whispers* They’re painful because she’s dead.

Lisette: Is she? She doesn’t look it.

Adrien: This is not the time for jokes, Miss Lisette.

Lisette: It’s always the time for jokes!
“Do you require any assistance?” he asked as he walked forward, reaching out to have both bags predictably thrust at him; he only shook his head in amusement.
“Sure, muscles,” Mia said with a small smile, placing her hands on her hips and giving him an amused look before she swept Trucy up into her arms. “Let’s get to the kitchen so that we can make us some breakfast.”

Belinda: It even sounds like her…

Adrien: Hey, Miss Belinda, how about we don’t think about your friend right now!

Belinda: *laughs nervously* It’s a little bit hard to do that when she’s on a great big screen right in front of you!

Lisette: Then cover your eyes!

Speakers: The Management would like to inform the sporkers that they are to pay attention at all times during the sporking.

Lisette: There goes that plan.
Miles followed after them, intrigued to see that Mia was not wearing her usual spirit channelling garments, her clothing much more common - jeans and a t-shirt. It made him feel a bit underdressed, but that’s what happened when she called on a weekend at 8 am. He also wondered where she had deposited her sister and Pearls; not that it really mattered. Maya was 19, after all, and could take care of a 9 year old for a day if need be.

Lisette: So this is two years after your second case together?

Belinda: Two years after her death too.

Lisette: Look on the bright side, in this universe, she’s not dead!

Belinda: But she’s the girlfriend of a man three years her junior who already has a child. Not that there’s anything wrong with those traits, but Prosecutor Edgeworth of all people?

Adrien: Didn’t she face him down in court during her first case?

Belinda: How do you know that?

Adrien: Back when you first told me about her, I got Mr. Wright to loan me some case files of hers.

Belinda: I hope you returned them, I have a feeling they came in handy for him.

Lisette: Your stalking senses are tingling. *winks*

Belinda: Lisette!
[Apparently, Mia is heading to Kurain to mourn her mother.]
Miles knew all too well the pain of losing a parent, how raw it could be even after several months. He could see it in Trucy’s eyes, remembered how inconsolable he had been after Redd White had taken his father’s life.

Belinda: Okay, what the actual hell?

Lisette: As opposed to ‘what the fake hell’.

Adrien: Miss Lisette. Let her finish.

Belinda: There are so many things in that sentence that are scrambled I can’t even begin.

Adrien: Then may I?

Belinda: I suppose.

Adrien: Okay, group objection after 3. 1... 2... 3...

All: Objection!

Adrien: *finger point* First off, it was Mr. Manfred von Karma who killed Mr. Edgeworth!

Lisette: *finger point* And Redd White did not!

Adrien: I think we got that, Miss Lisette.

Belinda: Shush, let her have this. *finger point, completing the trio* Redd White killed Mia Fey, who was dead by 2018!

Speakers: *applause*

Belinda: Thank you, we’ve been practicing.
Mia was much stronger than he had been.

Belinda: Damn straight.

Lisette: (Not really accurate when it comes to you.)
“Well, we finished sorting out the business of who would be Master,” Mia said, setting Trucy down and spinning to face him. “I managed to convince them that Pearls should one day succeed my mother because she has the most spiritual power out of the three of us and Aunt Morgan was part of the main family before ... Well. It took a lot of politicking, but I’ve learned a few things from watching you in court.”

Belinda: Mimi is—was a much better lawyer than Mr. Edgeworth. She almost beat him his first time!
Her smile was sad for a moment before it morphed into a self satisfied grin and she walked toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands immediately found her waist, and he smiled back at her before they shared a brief kiss.

Belinda: *muffled shrieking*
“Hm. Well it’s good to have you back, for now. How long are you staying?”
“As long as I want. The rest of the Branch family is managing things for the time being and I decided that spirit channelling professionally was never my destiny anyway,”she broke away to rummage in his cupboards for a bowl to mix the batter in. “What was it you always say? I’m too smart to waste my mind in the pursuit of wackadoo spiritualism?”

Lisette: Well, that’s really rude! You shouldn’t call heartfelt beliefs ‘wackadoo’!

Adrien: From the way Mr. Edgeworth talks in the case file, I doubt he has ever said ‘wackadoo’ in his life.

Belinda: …

Adrien: Miss Belinda?

Belinda: <I took out my hearing aids, I’m done.>

Speakers: The Management would like to inform the sporkers that they are to continue sporking or receive punishment. Also, we have someone who speaks sign language on our staff, so you can’t get away with that either.

Belinda: <Zark off.>

Adrien: <Miss Belinda! You shouldn’t use that sign in front of Lisette!>

Belinda:<Right, right, Lisette.> *puts her hearing aids back in* I’ll continue, but only for your sakes.

Speakers: The Management would like to thank Phosphor for her cooperation.

Belinda: <Zark off.>

Adrien: <Miss Belinda!>

Lisette: I don’t understand Sign Language, folks.
[More boring stuff about making the pancakes.]
Suddenly, a splitting pain ripped through his skull and he was hunched over the island, supporting himself against the granite countertop, panting heavily.

Belinda: Oh dear. I’m not happy about the situation, but I would never wish Prosecutor Edgeworth harm. Not even if he was dating Mimi. Okay, maybe if he was dating her and treated her anything like Diego did.
He heard the sound of of the whisk clattering against the bowl and was aware of hands on his shoulders and Mia’s voice speaking to him distantly.
Vaguely, there was the sense that something was terribly wrong about this situation,

Belinda: Yes, there is something wrong, so many things here are wrong.

Adrien: Let’s not list them again.

Lisette: Well, one of the things wrong is that the author wrote of twice in a row.

Adrien: I just said don't list them.

Lisette: But it's our job as sporkers!
but the thought passed as did the sudden splitting pain.
The world came back into focus, and he took a deep breath. “Miles?! Miles can you --"

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away slightly, waving his hand dismissively. “I have no idea what happened just now ... I ... I’m going to go lie down or a moment."

Lisette: He’ll lie down or a moment, he says. Does he mean he wants to lie down or Mia to give him a moment?

Adrien: The author obviously misspelled—

Lisette: Adrien! Don’t ruin my joke!
Mia nodded, then glanced at Trucy , who looked absolutely mortified.

Adrien: I don’t think that’s the right word.

Lisette: Yeah, she just looks embarrassed her dad collapsed, not worried.
A few words of reassurance later, and Miles was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Despite the strangeness of the moment before, the desperation he had felt, he found himself drifting to sleep. Later, he knew, he would have to face his concerned friends and family, perhaps go to the hospital, but for now he was suddenly tired.
Eyelids leaden, they slipped closed and he fell into a deep sleep.

Lisette: Eyelids leaden, they slipped closed and I got so bored I fell asleep. Geez, this thing is full of purple prose.

Belinda: I think it’s trying to set a mood but not doing a great job of it.

Adrien: Maybe the author could just say things happen and let us get this over with?
He stood in a kitchen he scarcely recognized, help wanted ads spread across the table. Over them hunched a man in a grubby sweater, rubbing his stubble-covered face with one hand while steadying the small girl sitting on his knee with the other. There was a look of deep weariness to him, etched into the lines of his face, which unsettled Miles Edgeworth greatly.

Belinda: Who’s that? I can’t see his face.

Adrien: I think the author is trying to be mysterious.

Belinda: Just tell us who this stubbly man is! Don’t make us guess by description!
“I’ve come over because you cannot flip a pancake to save your life and I refuse to let this girl starve,” Miles cleared his throat, crossing his arms firmly over his chest.

Belinda: So it was Mr. Wright? The author could’ve just said.

Adrien: And I assume the small girl with her face in shadow is Miss Trucy Wright.
gave him a bemused look, though not one of surprise, then motioned to the Bisquick pancake mix on the counter, which prompted a disdainful look on Miles’ behalf. “I mean real pancakes, Wright, not that boxed excuse for a meal.”
“Well excuuuuse me, Princess,” Phoenix muttered under his breath, though Miles ignored him in favor of placing two paper bags onto the Wright’s limited counter space.

Lisette: Hey! Listen!

Adrien & Belinda: ?

Lisette: Gosh, you guys really are squares.
Wait ... The Wrights?
Yes, of course. Phoenix and Trucy Wright. What are you thinking? Perhaps you’ve forgotten because it’s such a recent development ...
There was a brief sense of something being very wrong, though he dismissed it quickly enough.

Belinda: What’s wrong is we suddenly appear to be in the correct universe, with no indication of why.

Adrien: I think this is supposed to be a dream?

Lisette: Weird dream if it’s actually just our reality. Wait! Do you think we’re really all just someone’s dream?

Adrien: Don’t worry Miss Lisette, we’re too complicated and interesting to be someone’s dream.

Speakers: *ominous laughter*

Adrien: (I don’t like the sound of that one bit…)
“What’s in the bags anyway?” Phoenix’s expression was curious, but he didn’t want to dislodge the girl so he just furrowed his eyebrows and gave Miles a long, considering look.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he turned, looking over his shoulder, a carton of eggs in his hand. Not waiting for response, he walked over to the refrigerator and pulled open the door, finding it mostly bare, except for a half opened six pack of beer.

Lisette: Beer? Don’t you mean grape juice?

Belinda: No, I believe the author is trying to insinuate Mr. Wright is an alcoholic.

Lisette: But there’s not— but he’s— but— beer????

Belinda: What’s the matter, Lissy?

Lisette: I don’t know, I’m just having a hard time processing. Beer????
“My God, Wright, you can’t raise a child like this.”

Belinda: That’s very true.
“Yeah, well, I’m a bit strapped for cash at the moment,” he motioned to the classifieds with a wave of his hand. “In case you haven’t noticed.” Pursing his lips, he looked at Miles, something in his blue eyes deeply mournful for a moment.

Lisette: Hmmmmm… My gaydar’s going off, the way they’re looking into each other’s eyes is pretty dang romantic.

Belinda: Called it!

Adrien: I don’t think you did.

Belinda: Oh yeah, I only called it for real life. You’re right, Addie.

Adrien: (Don’t call it in real life, you madwoman.)
“I ... I can't pay you back for the groceries right now, by the way.”
“Pay me back?”Miles placed the eggs into the icebox and then turned back to Phoenix with a stern look on his face. “I don’t require monetary compensation for an act of friendship.”

Lisette: Yeah, let the man be your sugar daddy, Phoenix!

Adrien: That's not what this sentence implies.

Lisette: Fine, ‘platonic’ sugar daddy.

Adrien: That's not better.
His friend looked at a loss for words, moved by something that he likely perceived as touching. Miles ignored him in favor of taking out a bag of flour, sugar ... Maybe he would buy groceries for the Wrights after all. Proper groceries. At least until this jobless phase had passed…
“Trucy,” he said, looking to the girl, who looked back up at him with a very precocious expression on her face, “would you like to help me make pancakes? That way someone in this house is capable of making breakfast while I am unable to visit.”

Lisette: *sports announcer voice* And here’s Miles, preparing to throw the shade… and he’s got it… and he threw it, straight at Phoenix! Wow, that’s a knockout!

Adrien: You just combined about 3 different sports.

Lisette: Do you care about sports, Adrien?

Adrien: …No.

Lisette: Then don’t ruin my joke.
She smiled at him like he had just offered to take her to Disneyland and he found himself promptly turning his attention back to the ingredients, even as she crawled from Phoenix's lap. “Sure, Uncle Edgeworth!”

Belinda: “Uncle Edgeworth”? Lissy, your gaydar must be faulty, looks like there’s no chemistry here.

Lisette: No, trust me, I’m never wrong.

Adrien: Remember when you concluded that I was the one who embezzled the money when Miss Belinda was accused?

Lisette: Um… oh look, the fic’s continuing!
Miles’ could feel Phoenix’s eyes on them as he worked, explaining to Trucy how to mix the batter for the pancakes(after he found a stepping stool so that she could look at what Miles was doing on the high and admittedly not childproof counters in Phoenix’s apartment). There was nothing intense in that gaze, though it was focused, curious, and it still managed to make Miles feel self- conscious.

Lisette: Hmmmmm?

Belinda: Okay, maybe. I’m still not convinced.

Adrien: (How easily we forget these are real people…)
Focusing on Trucy instead, he soon forgot those eyes in light of teaching a child how to properly use a griddle.
Dangerous, perhaps, but if a nine year old could learn to ride a horse, something else that risked substantial injury, then an eight year old could learn to use a griddle.
She likely saw the Gramarye Troupe do more dangerous things in their acts anyway.

Lisette: It’s Troupe Gramarye. Get it right.

Adrien: (I didn’t know she was a fan.)

Belinda: Of course she’s a fan, Addie. She likes a lot of things.

Adrien: (Stop reading my thoughts, Miss Belinda!)

Belinda: I don’t need to read your mind when your face says it all.
“Okay, so now that you’ve successfully taught my child magician to flip pancakes ...” Miles heard the chair creak as Phoenix stood. “Trucy, go wash up for breakfast.”
Miles glanced over his shoulders to find Phoenix giving him a strange, fond look that almost made him feel embarrassed.

Lisette: Haha! See?

Belinda: I’ll concede that there’s chemistry, but I’m willing to bet that neither act on it.

Lisette: I’ll take that bet!

Adrien: How about we don’t bet and keep our sanity?

Belinda: Loser has to tell a secret!

Lisette: You’re on!

Adrien: *sigh*
Clearing his throat, he switched off the griddle that Phoenix had mentioned being a gift from his mother the last time Miles had shown up to the Wright’s house to find a half dozen pancakes searing onto its surface.
“You know ... You really don’t have to do this for me,” Phoenix paused and pursed his lips.

Adrien: The author seems to like people pursing their lips, that’s twice in a row Mr. Wright has done that.
“For us.”
Miles snorted, and focused on rolling back down his sleeves, glancing at Phoenix out of the corner of his eye. There was still something hidden in his gaze that made Miles feel conscious of his personal space in a way he seldom was, but he ignored it.

Lisette: Don’t ignore it! A secret’s on the line!
“As I’ve already mentioned to you several times, you’re my friend.”
As if that were explanation enough.
I want to do this for you.
He didn’t speak, feeling Phoenix’s eyes on his face, which forced him to turn away.

Lisette: *chanting* Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

Belinda: *chanting* Don’t kiss! Don’t kiss! Don’t kiss!

Adrien: (Sometimes it feels like I’m the only adult around here.)
“I know,” Phoenix’s voice was suddenly soft, forcing Miles to recall February, when he had lain prone on a hospital bed and begged Miles to defend Sister Iris in his stead. “It’s almost October now ... And I guess I just feel like ... Like I owe you.”

Belinda: You know… I don’t remember that case.

Adrien: Neither do I.
Miles turned around again, throat suddenly tight, refusing to cooperate though he willed the lump there to vanish. “Don’t.” He saw the look of confusion flicker across Phoenix’s face and cleared his throat. “Don’t feel like you owe me, Wright. This is what I want to do.”
Something passed between them, and a small smile flitted across Phoenix's lips, his expression growing soft for the first time in months. He reached out, gently tangling his fingers with Miles’ own, squeezing his hand.

Lisette: Yes! I win! Tell your secret, Belinda.

Adrien: I don’t know… that’s not exactly romantic, it could be merely friendly.

Lisette: But they’re ‘tangling their fingers together’!

Belinda: I have to side with Addie on this one. (Not only because otherwise I’ll lose, but really, they make a good point.)

Lisette: Fine.

Belinda: (I thought I’d never be wishing for Mr. Wright and Prosecutor Edgeworth not to kiss.)
“Daddy, I’m ready to eat!”

Lisette: *snrk* Daddy.

Adrien: ?

Belinda: I don’t know what you’re laughing about but it can’t be good.
Just like that, it was like Phoenix’s hand dissolved and they were standing on opposite banks of the Mississippi River.

Belinda: Whoa whoa whoa! What the heck?

Adrien: Either we’ve stumbled into a different fic entirely, or the author is just that bad at transitions. I vote the latter.
Turning around, Miles gripped the counter and stared intensely at the pancakes he had plated, listening to the sound of Phoenix’s footsteps as he went to greet Trucy.

Adrien: Plated?

Lisette: Maybe they’re gold plated pancakes? That’d be pretty cool!

Adrien: Pretty inedible, you mean.

Lisette: Adrien! Don’t—

Adrien: Ruin your joke, yes, I got it.
Miles fought down his feelings, pushed them away, attempting to return to neutrality, though he knew that what had just transpired was something too significant to turn back from.

Adrien: So significant the setting changed for a sentence.

Belinda: You know, I think that’s what the author intended.

Lisette: It’s pretty sloppy, though.

Adrien: I agree.

Belinda: Me too.
“Let’s set the table,” Miles heard Phoenix say to his daughter, and his voice sounded far off, though Miles dispelled the sensation by shaking his head. “How long are you staying, Edgeworth?”

Lisette: Let’s lean on the side of forever.
He turned back around, looking toward the Wrights, thinking how at home Phoenix looked with the little beside him.

Adrien: “With the little beside him” he suddenly questioned: Little what?
Like a real family, one that he felt he likely would only orbit, growing closer occasionally but never really touching.

The words “Uncle Edgeoworth” had never felt so damning.

Belinda: No concrete expression of love. Pay up, Lisette.

Adrien: There might be more later.

Lisette: No, I think she’s right. Those dashes were used to transition into this universe.

Adrien: The correct universe.

Lisette: Right. So my secret is… It was I who ate the last donut during our second case!

Adrien: I thought it was Miss Belinda!

Belinda: I thought it was Adrien!

Lisette: It was me!

Belinda: When this is over, you get us donuts, Lissy. Enough for Perce and Presto to have some too!

Lisette: I’ll have to get an advance on my salary, Belinda.

Belinda: No, you find the money on your own, kid.
Waking was slow this time, and his bed was empty.
In some small way, it felt poignant to wake alone after such a vivid dream.

Lisette: Poignant to you maybe, but to us, it just means we get more of your weird purple prose-ey internal monologue.
He wouldn’t have wanted Mia or Trucy to see him like this, though it was an absurd, prideful notion to feel such. He had always had such a strong support network in his life, and they were a part of it now.

Lisette: Miles? Having a strong support network? I doubt it, he seems poncy and rude.

Belinda: From what Mimi told me, you’re right on both counts.

Adrien: Surely he got better eventually?

Belinda: I don’t know. I haven’t met him properly.

Speakers: Perhaps we’ll find a way to remedy that…

Adrien: Miss Belinda, I think you just invited us to more of these things.

Belinda: Your tone makes me think you’re against this. Why? It’s been pretty fun.

Lisette: Agreed! It’s a nice break from the office!

Adrien: Speaking of the office, are we sure that Masters Percy and Preston are alright on their own?

Lisette: Preston’s been watching Percy on his own since I joined you guys, don’t worry about him.
Miles had never had a problem going to anyone with his issues before, as his father had taught him from a young age that only foolish people tried to carry their burdens on their own. Yet now ...

Belinda: *bitter laughter* Sometimes carrying a burden alone is all you can do, author.

Adrien: *sigh* You do have us now, Miss Belinda. You really don’t have to carry your burdens alone.

Lisette: Seriously, Batman, listen to your Boy Wonder.

Adrien: *twitches* (Lisette knows I don’t like being called a boy…)

Lisette: Sorry, Adrien, I just remembered. “Batman, listen to your Robin!” Better?

Adrien: Much better.
Now he wanted nothing more than to be alone, as if being alone were the right thing to do. As if he had been alone his entire life.

Lisette: Plot Twist! He was alone the whoooole time! Mia and Trucy were just hallucinations of a demented mind!

Adrien: *sarcastically* Whooooooaaaa!

Belinda: And we were just fictional characters the whole time!

Speakers: The Management cannot tell whether you are breaking the fourth wall here. Stop it.

Belinda: Fourth wall? Are you saying… we’re actually fictional???

Speakers: *ahem* No, of course not.

Belinda: I’m going to believe you since I’m certainly not wearing my ‘Have an Existential Crisis’ jacket today.

Lisette: You have one of those?

Belinda: You get one once you turn 30.

Adrien: Well at least I’ve got that to look forward to.
You can solve your own problems. You always have. Best not to burden anyone with your issues ...
No. They’ll just worry more if you leave them in the dark. What are you saying?!

Adrien: *looks pointedly at Belinda*

Belinda: I’m the adult here. It’s my decision to burden you with my problems or not.

Adrien: *contines looking*

Lisette: *joins in*

Belinda: *hands up in surrender* Fine, fine, I’ll be more open.

Lisette & Adrien: *silent fistbump*
“So sleeping beauty awakes at last,” Miles eyes snapped open and he pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes meeting with Mia’s. “How you feeling, Prince Charming?”

Belinda: Charming? Hardly.

Adrien: Hold on, didn’t you call him “little Miles Edgeworth” with some quantity of affection?

Belinda: I admire his work, but so far he hasn’t done anything particularly likable in the “real world” portion of the fic, and my only impression of him otherwise is him being rude to Mimi during both of their first cases.

Lisette: But you call him “little” why?

Belinda: Because he debuted at 20, and calling him “little” is better than calling him “prick”.
He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head to dispel it of the strange, lingering doubts that burdened him.

Speakers: Since none of you can reference the musical, “These lingering doubts you’ve burdened me with serve no useful purpose…”

Belinda: There’s a musical? What kind? For what?

Speakers: It’s about Wright’s first couple of cases.

Belinda: Interesting! I’ll have to look for it!

Adrien: Don’t.
They scattered like dandelion seeds in a strong wind, and he was able to finally focus on the moment. “Much. I’m sorry about that. I’m not really sure what happened,” throwing the covers aside, he swung his legs over the end of the bed. “What time is it?”
“Well,” Mia bit her bottom lip for a moment, something she did when she thought he wouldn't like what she had to say.

Belinda: She never did that. That’s not a thing she did. No.

Lisette: Chill out, Belinda, remember, ‘it’s just a fic, you should really just relax’.
“It’s about 5:30.”
Rubbing his temples, Miles was annoyed that he had wasted a day off in bed, but decided that he could still be with the people that mattered for the rest of the day if he budgeted his time well. “Right. Could we ... go out to eat?”
Mia’s face lit up, “I have your daughter in the other room making props for a magic show with my little sister and cousin. And wouldn't you know? Phoenix and Franziska just called asking the exact same thing. I know really large gatherings wear you out, but ...”
“But I slept the entire day away,” he said promptly, walking over to the vanity to remove his hairbrush from the top drawer. “I can handle visiting with my best friend, his new girlfriend, and my family by association for a few hours in a crowded restaurant. I have the energy reserves.”

Belinda: His new girlfriend? Weren’t they just introduced as having both stayed at Prosecutor von Karma’s place?

Adrien: Apparently that’s enough for Mr. Edgeworth to make the jump from ‘mutual crush’ (I would hope) to ‘partners’.

Lisette: Don’t look at me, I only write this kind of thing, which has no basis in reality.
He flashed a small smile at she returned it with a small smile of her own. It made her look beautiful in all the right ways, but something niggling at the back of his mind stubbornly and persistently refused to let go of the dream.

Belinda: “Made her look beautiful in all the right ways”? Don’t tell us she was beautiful, describe her and let us decide for ourselves! And besides, Mimi was always beautiful, even when she wasn’t smiling.
It likely isn’t the best time to see Phoenix, it told him, not after what just transpired between the two of you.
But nothing happened!

Lisette: Yeah! I lost that bet!
At no point had anything ever happened, nor would it ever happen. They had grown up together, spent their first two years of high school together before Miles fast tracked school by skipping grades and supplemented his education with college credits. But they’d always lived two blocks from one another for as long as Phoenix had lived with his parents. They were like brothers, and even suggesting that there could possibly be a universe where they were something else was ...
It was just wrong.

Adrien: How much of this is accurate, Miss Belinda?

Belinda: Not much, from what I remember reading. Prosecutor Edgeworth was raised in Germany, where he first made news in the legal world as Prosecutor Manfred von Karma’s protégé.
No. Miles was in love with Mia and Phoenix had a new relationship with Franziska.

Lisette: Which came out of what feels like nowhere!
That was just the way it was.
The way it should be.

Belinda: The way it shouldn’t be, never could be, and never has been.

Adrien: You’re getting really agitated, Miss Belinda.

Belinda: We had a nice break for a while there and now we’re back to this weird pairing that doesn’t sit right with me for many reasons. That’s all.
“So where are we eating?” Like a life preserver, Mia’s voice drew him from the mire of his thoughts.
“If it’s up to your sister? A burger joint. If it’s up to my daughter? Somewhere with spaghetti.” Miles finished combing through his hair and turned around to find the woman of his dreams practically in his arms.

Belinda: *gag* “Woman of his dreams”? So cliche!
“I guess we’ll have to draw straws,” she said, a smile lighting up her features as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Or orchestrate some sort of battle royale.”
“Well, I’m not sure bloodletting is the best idea.

Lisette: Aw, I would’ve paid to see children fight to the death.
Perhaps we should just make an executive decision?” He leaned forward to kiss her.
But for some reason, in some small way, it didn’t feel the same as it had before, though Mia didn’t seem to notice.

Speakers: The Management would like to remind Phosphor that she is to look at the screen at all times.
Miles ignored the growing suspicion that this dream wasn’t a one time occurrence to walk from the room with Mia Fey, hand in hand.
In another room, a man stared at the expanse of his bedroom ceiling, fighting between the urge to sleep and the urge to maintain his vigil over the phone, just in case there was some news.

Belinda: Well this is vague. Who is this masked man?

Adrien: He doesn’t have a mask.

Belinda: It’s a Lone Ranger reference. The one western I’ve seen.

Adrien: Okay… What does “expanse of ceiling” even mean? It’s saying his ceiling is expansive like the sea but unless his bedroom is a mile wide, I doubt it.

Lisette: I think it’s supposed to be other!Miles.

Adrien: …how did you say that with your mouth.
Eventually, his exhaustion and sound of the unusual rain tapping against his window lulled him into a sleep he had never asked to fall into.
That night the phone would not ring and the next morning he would wake feeling unrested, as if he had never slept at all.

Lisette: Purple prose! Stop!

[The lights come up, surprising the sporkers.]

Lisette: It’s over already? But what about that foreshadowing of more reality bleeding?!

Speakers: That’s all there is. The account is deactivated as well, so there is nothing on the way either.

Lisette: That’s just bad writing! Leaving us some bait like that!

Speakers: A sporker recently said something similar. We might have to bring her in to meet you.

Adrien: Please don’t bring me back, I have paperwork to do.

Speakers: No promises.

Belinda: Time to get those donuts from Lisette!

Lisette: Aw, I thought you had forgotten.

Belinda: A lawyer never turns down free food!

[They leave the theater, bickering all the while, and somewhere, the management smiles, glad of their new toys.]

Last edited by PhosphorousLaw on Mon Nov 12, 2018 7:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The Phosphorous FilesTopic%20Title
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Trucy cosplaying Edgeworth

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One lingering thought fills my mind, burdening me with anxiety...
Re: The Phosphorous FilesTopic%20Title
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Trucy cosplaying Edgeworth

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The Bluffer

“How many of the other yous will fight her for Mr. Wright's heart?” - Kay Faraday, An Abundance of Edgeworths Sporking

{Note written in ink that sporkers can't see: This fic is intentionally bad and creepy. You have been warned.}

It was bizarre. First, Marie Edgeworth woke up in a house that was not her own, and now she had been pushed into a room to meet the gender-flipped version of her greatest rival. Not only him but several other versions of herself, also all gender-flipped. Everyone seemed just as confused as she was, and were chattering amongst themselves. Marie took charge. “Everyone be quiet! This chaos will not help us!”

They all stared at her. The man who she supposed would be called something like ‘Philip Wright’ said “She’s right. We should all calm down and introduce ourselves.”

“I believe at least most of us already know who you are, Wright,” said an Edgeworth who was in a beanie. He was also wearing a sweatshirt and a hoodie, and Marie couldn’t help but frown at her other self’s poor taste.

“I don’t!” said a chipper voice. The group turned to see… Kevin Faraday? Except not Kevin, Marie surmised, because this was yet another version of herself, once again male but also dressed up like her assistant.

“Then you should probably go ahead and introduce yourself. We’ll go after,” planned the bespectacled Edgeworth. He looked careworn and mostly amused by the situation.

“Fine then, I’m Phoenix Wright,” explained Phoenix, which surprised Marie. She had always thought Phoenix was a girl’s name. Phoenix nodded to the bespectacled Edgeworth.

“I am Miles Edgeworth.” He nodded to Marie.

“Marie Edgeworth.”

“Philip Edgeworth.” The one in the beanie.

“Charlie Edgeworth!” chirped the Kevin lookalike.

“Mitsurgi Reiji,” said an Edgeworth who hadn’t spoken before. He looked exactly the same as the bespectacled one, but there was something about the way he carried himself that differed.

“Miles Edgeworth. Millie to my friends” said the last one, who looked… happier? At peace? He smiled at Phoenix.

Marie pushed up her glasses and began, “Now that’s all out of the way, does anyone know why the hell there’s 6 of me?”

The rest shrugged, except for Charlie who piped up “I bet it was ‘that woman’ Ms. Faraday is always talking about! I heard she can do magic!”

The Edgeworths did a double take. Well, every Edgeworth except Mitsurgi. He just looked confused. He said something in Japanese that Marie wasn’t quick enough to understand.

“He said ‘Who is this Ms. Faraday?’ I am wondering this as well, as I too know a Faraday.” said Miles, looking to Charlie.

Charlie rummaged in his pack. “I’m her assistant! She’s a prosecutor who runs around with Mags, who’s her other assistant.”

Miles seemed to be putting the pieces together. “So you’re from a world where Kay is a prosecutor instead of my assistant… Hmm…”

Philip sipped from a grape juice bottle that Marie hadn’t seen him pick up nor remove from his pockets and said “Nah, Miles, Kay’s my daughter. Not anyone’s assistant but her own. And Klavier’s.”

Marie looked thoughtful. “And Kevin Faraday is my assistant… So it seems everyone here is from a universe at least slightly different from the rest. We’re not clones or anything like that.”

The Edgeworths nodded. Phoenix added, “But why am I here?”

That was when a giant neon sign lit up the back of the room. It said “The Bluffer”.
A voice from what sounded like above their heads said “It’s time for… the Bluffer! Who can win Phoenix Wright’s heart?” The sign shut off.

“But what if some of us don’t know Mr. Wright well enough to win his heart?” Said Charlie.

The voice hemmed. “You’re right. BEGONE!” Thus, Charlie, Mitsurgi, and ‘Millie’ disappeared.

Marie frowned. Was it really so easy to leave? “May I go?”

The voice shouted “NO!” And a small pile of heart-shaped confetti landed on Marie. She suddenly found herself… giddy? Was that the word? Her gaze landed on Phoenix and she felt a rush. Was this… love? Why was she only feeling it now? Why didn’t she feel this way about the Phoenix from her universe? Why did- Her fight against this unexpected emotion ended and she was forced to welcome it.

Miles turned to Phoenix. “Wright, do you know anything about this?” Far from being slightly amused like he was when he thought this was some sort of practical joke, he was incensed.


Philip chugged down more grape juice.

Marie couldn’t control herself anymore. She sidled up to Phoenix and said: “How about we make this easy and get out of here quickly?” She licked her lips.

Phoenix blushed and looked extremely uncomfortable. “M-Ms. Edgeworth, I don’t think that’s—”

He was interrupted by her kissing him. She couldn’t help it. Something was compelling her to do this, something that hurt but also felt so good.

Miles pulled her off of him after much struggling. “What has gotten into you, Marie? I would never do something like this.”

The fogginess of her mind cleared. “I… I don’t know.” She felt guilty, and tears started to fall down her face.
“Besides,” said Miles to the ceiling, where the voice presumably was. “How can anyone win Wright’s heart?” He hugged Phoenix, who was still reeling from Marie’s forced kiss. “It’s already mine.”
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