boxolawyers | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Quatre, Edgeworth
What: A virus strikes! Quatre and Edgeworth are forced to stay within proximity of each other, lest they become terribly ill.
Where: The Maganac's village and base of operations.
When: Some random point in time.
Warnings: None!

The sun peaked through the curtains of the window, slowly bathing the small bedroom in light. It was a quiet morning; the only sounds that could be heard were those of men and women setting up shops at the market down the hill, and those were only faint echos at best.

It was a day to sleep in--not that Quatre normally did. There was something about this place, though, something peaceful and safe. Everyone knew who he was, just as they did nearly everywhere he went these days, but the Maganac Corps were like family, and so was everyone in the village by proxy. He could forget about politics and disarmament, at least for a moment, which was why--when a sliver of sunlight positioned itself directly over his face--the young man simply winced and rolled over with nothing more than a groan.

He could afford a moment more.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[hey man, this village has been attacked before; no sense having a secret entrance that anybody can access]

[but Quatre doesn't respond to Edgeworth's unasked question; instead, he gives the man a curious look, as the remnants of Edgeworth's fear dance on the edge of his senses; he considers asking if everything is all right, but Edgeworth has composed himself, and Quatre doesn't want to cause irritation]

[he simply nods and takes to the stairs]

[wise choice, boy. Edgeworth stares coolly back, wary over the possibility that he didn't hide his reaction to the shaking well enough. he's sensitive enough about it when he's around friends, let alone people he's not comfortable around.]

[fortunately Winner seems to read the message clearly enough and declines to comment. Edgeworth follows him down, wondering again what he's getting into.]

[what he's getting into is, in fact, a giant hangar, packing at least a dozen mobile suits]

[there are also several workers down here--mechanics, from the looks of it--doing maintenance and repairs on the suits; Quatre nods to a few of them in greeting (and they in turn smile and nod, all while keeping an eye on the man behind him), then turns to Edgeworth]

Sandrock is at the end of the hangar, just a ways down.

[it's like descending into another world. it seems almost impossible that such a massive space could exist below the completely normal home they just came from. Edgeworth can't help staring at each of the monstrous suits as they pass, heedless to the stares his own presence is drawing. the name might have given him some clue to their nature but could hardly have prepared him for how impressive (not to mention intimidating) they would be. it strikes him in a very concrete way that these are weapons, instruments of war. what they must be like in action...]

[a shiver runs down his spine. he starts when Winner halts suddenly, and follows his direction to find a suit which appears, even to his untrained eye, more advanced than any of the others.]

That one is yours?

[his tone is tainted with disbelief, though it's not meant as a judgment on Winner. that anyone his age would be given control of a weapon like that just seems outlandish.]

[Quatre simply nods; it's not the first time he's gotten that reaction, though it doesn't happen as often as one might think]

[he walks towards it, beckoning Edgeworth to follow]

The computer's on board.

On board? [Edgeworth stares at the machine for a few moments as if approaching it is the last thing he wants to do, but eventually he does follow.]

[following the boy into the machine, if that is the intention, would be a different question entirely. besides being a weapon, it appears to be completely enclosed. knowing military vehicles, chances are good the interior's also cramped and uncomfortable...and possibly claustrophobic.]

[Quatre nods and continues walking.]

For some reason, it's the only one that will access the community here.

[distractedly, still mostly focused on the Gundam they're quickly approaching.] Strange. As far as I know, everyone on my world has access from any device they use.

Really? [glances over his shoulder, genuinely surprised] Hm... Well, I can access it from any of my devices; Sandrock's computer just happens to be the only one I have, at the moment. But if I give somebody else the URL, they only get an error in return.

You can't access it for them, or use someone else's computer in their absence? Hm.

[mulling it over.] I've never tried inflicting the site on any unsuspecting victims from my world, but I assume they would have the same problem. The community only seems to want who it wants. But those of us who already have access don't seem to be limited in how we get to the site. [He eyes some of the computers scattered throughout the hangar, wondering if that rule would still hold true here. Maybe he wouldn't need to use the boy's Gundam after all.]

[They're almost at the Gundam now; its sheer mass, if not obvious before, is greater than that of any other mobile suit in the hangar, and it towers over them at more than fifty feet tall.]

Strange... I've heard others mention the same problem that I have. I wonder if it's different for everyone...

It may be. I know not everyone uses the same means to access the site...

[Half of his attention is again on the colossus in front of them. This close he can make out scars in the paint, evidence of undoubtedly vicious battles. He glances at the other suits for comparison, imagining against his will what it might have been like for pilots of similar suits in their last moments as they went up against this boy in his Gundam: explosions rocking the cockpit, systems failing, trapped in the dark. With his discomfort spiking, Edgeworth turned away from the giant robot, struggling to get himself under control again.]

Perhaps I could...try one of the other computers? I've used computers on other worlds before, but only those that belonged to other community members. I'm curious if I'm similarly limited off-world.

[Quatre can sense Edgeworth's trepidation, and he pauses in his step, turning to look at the man curiously. Is he afraid of Sandrock...?]

You can, if you'd like. We'll have to go back to the front, though. Most of the computers down here are only used for diagnostics.

[Of course they are. Suppressing a sigh, Edgeworth shakes his head] We can check it on the way back.

[He then gestures for Winner to lead the way into the Gundam. He's determined not to let this irrational discomfort get the better of him. It's only a vehicle, not so different from any other military vehicle. There's absolutely no reason for that unpleasant tightness that's gripping his chest.]

[Quatre studies him, brow furrowed slightly] Are you sure? I don't mind going back. We already know it's a virus, so even if it doesn't work...

[His scrutiny only increases Edgeworth's discomfort. His tone is getting snappish.] We know it's a virus, but we don't know how long it's going to last. If I'm going to be stuck here more than a few hours I need to contact someone to take care of things for me at home. There's no point in prolonging that when we're here now.

[Quatre backs off, holding his hands up in a show of deference, his tone gentle when he speaks:] All right. I understand.

[And he does. In fact, he should notify someone himself that he'll be unavailable for a few days, while they're at it...

Although troubled by Edgeworth's rising fear, he turns to walk the remaining distance to Sandrock. The man obviously doesn't want to talk about it, and that's something Quatre can respect (as well as something he's already used to, with the company he often keeps).

He stops at what resembles a construction elevator that leads to platform above and presses the call button, waiting.]

[Edgeworth is relieved when the boy finally backs down, but it's short-lived.]

[Of course they would use an elevator to access the robot. Obviously the cockpit would need to be at the level of the chest or head for maximum visibility, and obviously any other method for reaching it would limit the size of the parts and tools that someone could carry up with them.]

[Edgeworth struggles with the sharp stab of fear that overtakes him without warning, trying to talk himself into approaching the elevator. The walls are metal grating. Air can circulate through them. He'll be able to see out. It can't be more than 45 seconds to the top. There's nothing to worry about. He knows this. He's making damn sure he knows this because there's no way he's going to fall apart in front of a child who fought a war, for God's sake.]

[He approaches the elevator after only a few moments. On the outside he still seems composed, but inside he's all but cowering.]

[That is something that can't be so easily ignored.

As the elevator makes its descent towards them, Quatre quickly turns to the man again, the concern plain on his face.]

Mr. Edgeworth...?

[He's so focused on the elevator's descent that Winner's voice almost doesn't register. It takes a moment for him to snap his attention back to the boy with a slightly guilty look.]

What?

[Quatre watches him only a moment longer, before he turns and slams the emergency stop on the elevator. The carriage grinds to a halt, and Quatre turns a deep frown on the prosecutor.]

We don't have to go up there, if you'd rather not...

[Something gave him away despite his best efforts. But what? Not his expressions. Body language? His distraction? Not his pounding heartbeat, obviously. Relief washed through him the moment the elevator stopped, but it's quickly replaced by shame then a fresh wave of fear. Cringing from this ride is not an option.]

[Crossing his arms, he glares fiercely at Winner as if daring him to question this incident more openly.] I thought I made myself clear. I have obligations to take care of.

But you're afraid. [He brings a hand to his chest, resting it over his heart.] Of what I don't know, but I can feel it.

You-- [He cuts himself off. One hand presses hard against his own chest in unconscious mimicry of Winner's gesture, or perhaps to ward it off.]

[Is he speaking literally?]

[Edgeworth's eyes flash with anger. He snaps] I'm not afraid of anything. And if I was, that would still be no reason to forsake my responsibilities.

I can respect that. But Mr. Edgeworth, I really can feel it.

[In this moment, he realizes the subject must not have come up with his predecessor, and he wonders if it was a mistake to mention it now, but that thought is short-lived. After all, it's not something that he's ever been ashamed of or secretive about; there's really no reason to start hiding it now, when doing so could so easily make it worse in the long run.]

Please don't think I'm trying to pry. I wouldn't have said anything at all, but it was too strong to ignore...