IC Inbox [Cerealia]

[bewrightback]

"If you're looking for Phoenix Wright, you've called the Wright number! Leave a message after the beep, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"

Comments

audio.

[bewrightback]

No.

...No you don't, and no I haven't.

audio.

[pollygrapher]

Fantastic. [Except, you know. Not. His voice probably can't get much dryer than this.]

I'll see you there, Mr. Wright.

audio.

[bewrightback]

Catch you soon, Apollo.

[Then he smirks and turns on the mp3 player while he shuffles some cards at a table.]

action

[pollygrapher]

[Sure enough, the sound of the piano is what leads Apollo to Phoenix, though the playing is much better than he expected--at least until he sees mp3 player. Mystery solved.

He sighs.]

You had me going for a second there.

action

[bewrightback]

[Phoenix greets him with a booming laugh.]

Ahahaha! I'm touched that you had that much faith in me, Apollo. [Letting Apollo down like that, it feels like the good old days.

He motions towards an empty chair and resumes his deck shuffling.]

Have a seat.

[pollygrapher]

[Yup, same Mr. Wright, even with the fancy suit and the badge. That's kind of reassuring, in a way.

Apollo gingerly takes a seat at the table and frowns at the cards.]

We're not actually playing anything, are we? You know how bad my poker face is.

[bewrightback]

[It's definitely not the type to inspire pop songs...]

I'll leave it up to you, Apollo. We can play and talk, or just talk. I mean, it's not like we'll be betting anything.

[pollygrapher]

Let's just talk. [No way he's betting on anything when he has no card skills to speak of.]

I want to know what you've already found out about this place. I heard from someone else about the ocular implants.

[Straight to business, it looks like.]

[bewrightback]

[How disappoint. Phoenix just idly shuffles the card some more anyways.]

So you heard about those already. I see. That's why it doesn't make a difference where we have this conversation...

Well, what else do I know... Have you heard anything about the world outside of this city?

[pollygrapher]

There's really no way to shut the cameras off? Other than... [Apollo winces, just the thought of anyone clawing their eyes out makes his skin crawl.]

I haven't heard a lot yet. I've been trying to figure out who else from our world is here and what everyone knows.

[bewrightback]

[He shakes his head gravely, pausing the shuffling.]

No real solution has been found. And I absolutely will not accept "that" solution. [And how do we know they won't just stick it back in us? It could all be for nothing...]

Well, I'll tell you what I know. ...Did you figure out everyone who's here from our world?

[pollygrapher]

I would hope not. [Grumbled a little, but at least he knows Phoenix is on the same page.]

Let's see. You and Trucy are here. Ema is, too, but she's younger. Prosecutor Gavin and Prosecutor Edgeworth are both here. Athena.

[He pauses now. While Phoenix tends to exasperate him even on the best of days, this is a sensitive subject. And the man doesn't like to talk about his past all that much, giving only what was necessary for the Misham trial. That's a trait that he and Phoenix share, and he can appreciate the need for some consideration.]

There's someone called Iris here, too. [Apollo doesn't say any more than that for now.]

[bewrightback]

...I see. So you've met with Iris as well. That's good. [He does sound nothing but warm about it. Luckily she's not anyone's long-lost relative or anything.]

...You're missing a few, but they're all people you don't know yet.

[pollygrapher]

[He catches the "yet".]

You mean they're people I'll know later. In my future.

[Yeah, he's still weirded out by this whole thing.]

[bewrightback]

Yep! Give it a few months.

....Well, to be fair, I don't think that you've met Maya or Larry yet.

[pollygrapher]

But you're familiar with them?

[Maya and Larry... now why do those two names ring a bell in his mind? Apollo rests his finger against his forehead as he tries to remember where he's heard those names before.]

[bewrightback]

[He smiles warmly.]

Without a doubt. I've known Larry since we were children... and Maya was my first assistant, as well as the younger sister of my mentor.

[pollygrapher]

[Honestly? It's still weird seeing Phoenix so relaxed and smiling genuinely in a way that Apollo rarely ever saw since he started working for him.

...in a good way, though. It's a much better look on him than the carelessness that he often wore before.]

I don't get it. [Apollo finally admits, folding his arms as he puzzles over this new information.] They sound like they mean a lot to you, but you've never mentioned them before.

[bewrightback]

[Phoenix responds with a hearty laugh.]

What's not to get? It's not like I hand out a list of all the people closest to me to all my new friends.

...Although I have mentioned Maya to you before, if not by name. Remember all of those Steel Samurai DVDs that were sent to me?

[pollygrapher]

[It doesn't immediately ring a bell, and Apollo has to pause and think back. Oh, right. The car accident.]

When you were recovering in the hospital? [If it could be called "recovering" at all. Who gets hit by a car and walks away with just a sprained ankle?? Apollo thinks to himself.]

You said something about sending reports to someone--that was her?

[bewrightback]

That's right. Those were very important reports. [He affirms this with a nod. Then he goes on in a dranatic nature that doesn't quite sound entirely sincere.]

If I didn't have those videos to keep me company at that time... I might not have pulled through.

[pollygrapher]

[Now this is familiar. Apollo barely stops himself from rolling his eyes at the melodrama. Barely.]

Because sprained ankles are such life-threatening injuries?

[bewrightback]

Ahhh... Apollo, you're just as I remember. That stare of yours can still kill a perfectly good joke dead in its tracks...

[pollygrapher]

It's not my fault your jokes need some work, Mr. Wright.

[But he does tone down the sarcasm just a little.]

Was that everyone I'm missing, though?

[bewrightback]

Or maybe it's your fault that you think my jokes need work. [A dad laugh.]

Scuttlebutt.