samuraiprosecutor: (Portrait)
[personal profile] samuraiprosecutor
Who: Edgeworth, Belial
What: Crashing Edgey's self-pity party
Where: Random made up bar in LA
When: Late evening (or is that early morning?)
Warnings: None that we know of...


When he saw that the bar's few tables were already occupied, Edgeworth almost walked back out the door. At least at home he could be absolutely certain he wouldn't have to share his space with anyone...anyone human, at least. But the night outside that door was surprisingly cold, and the gleaming mahogany bar was long and empty. Surely he would be left alone long enough to fortify himself with one drink before braving the night.

He settled himself in a stool at the far end of the bar and ordered a White Russian. The familiar bartender, a dark-haired young man with slim hips and perfectly pressed clothes, frowned lightly in response to Edgeworth's appearance, but in the end, he supplied the drink without question and left the prosecutor to nurse it in private. And nurse it he did. Edgeworth's focus drifted quickly towards the subject that had preoccupied him for the past few days. After the first token sips, his drink seemed all but forgotten.
samuraiprosecutor: (Blah blah blah)
[personal profile] samuraiprosecutor
Who: Edgeworth, Belial
What: First meeting
Where: The courthouse
When: Late afternoon/early evening
Warnings: None as far as we know? :|a


Wherever Edgeworth went, he had a tendency to go with purpose. So while he may linger around the courthouse for hours after a trial, cornering witnesses or defense lawyers or performing dozens of undoubtedly crucial tasks, when he was finally ready to leave for the day he didn't waste any more time. He moved smoothly towards the exit, briefcase swinging heavily at his side and ears perked, listening for any important individual who might need to grab his attention at the last minute. That sort of interruption seemed unlikely, given how few people were left in the building at this hour, but there were a few judges who haunted the courthouse even later than him.

He made it to the exit without a hitch; there he paused before the grandiose doors, glaring at the sheets of rain pouring down on the marble steps beyond. There had been no hint of inclement weather that morning, and, being from Southern California, he was woefully unprepared.