Phoenix Wright (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
attorneyatlol) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
boxolawyers2009-11-02 07:42 pm
attorneyatlol) wrote in boxolawyers2009-11-02 07:42 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth
What: Non-canon AU; Edgeworth mourns the loss of his friend, Phoenix Wright, who died several weeks ago. (OR DID HE?)
Where: Edgeworth's home, deep in the south
When: Night time, late 19th Century
- - -
Phoenix was well aware that he shouldn't be there. He'd been told several times--warned, even--to forget the life he'd had before, that even if he sought the people who once knew him, nothing would or could ever be the same. What they didn't understand, however, was that Miles Edgeworth was not a man one could so easily forget.
It started three nights ago. Phoenix had stood outside the other man's window, trying to drum up the courage to face him, even at the risk of being reviled, possibly pursued. Such a gamble, he reasoned, was as much for Edgeworth's benefit as Phoenix's own, selfish desire to see his old friend again. Edgeworth had had one too many people unexpectedly ripped from his life with little to no closure; Phoenix decided he would not be another.
So it was now, on the fourth night, that the once defense attorney stood outside Edgworth's window, staring at the drawn curtains on the other side of the glass. He didn't know if the window was locked, and he didn't intend to find out through any underhanded means. Instead, he lifted his hand and knocked four times at a very practiced, specific tempo. Hopefully, Edgeworth would remember the code from their younger days.
What: Non-canon AU; Edgeworth mourns the loss of his friend, Phoenix Wright, who died several weeks ago. (OR DID HE?)
Where: Edgeworth's home, deep in the south
When: Night time, late 19th Century
Phoenix was well aware that he shouldn't be there. He'd been told several times--warned, even--to forget the life he'd had before, that even if he sought the people who once knew him, nothing would or could ever be the same. What they didn't understand, however, was that Miles Edgeworth was not a man one could so easily forget.
It started three nights ago. Phoenix had stood outside the other man's window, trying to drum up the courage to face him, even at the risk of being reviled, possibly pursued. Such a gamble, he reasoned, was as much for Edgeworth's benefit as Phoenix's own, selfish desire to see his old friend again. Edgeworth had had one too many people unexpectedly ripped from his life with little to no closure; Phoenix decided he would not be another.
So it was now, on the fourth night, that the once defense attorney stood outside Edgworth's window, staring at the drawn curtains on the other side of the glass. He didn't know if the window was locked, and he didn't intend to find out through any underhanded means. Instead, he lifted his hand and knocked four times at a very practiced, specific tempo. Hopefully, Edgeworth would remember the code from their younger days.
no subject
“Wright?” he finally managed, brokenly, searching his friend’s features as if in disbelief that they were there before him.
no subject
no subject
“It’s not, it…it can’t be.”
no subject
"It's me, Edgeworth," he repeated, a note of desperation in his voice. He really was a fool, wasn't he? "Please... listen for a minute."
no subject
“We were wrong. You weren’t…oh God, Wright…”