|Phoenix Wright meets Kingdom Hearts. |
THIS HAS TO HAPPEN, CAPCOM AND SQUARE ENIX!!!
Then. Now. and Always. ::Baltic Trio::Independence was a tricky word, for nations. For a human it meant living on your own, or at least supporting yourself. Having control of your life, and being free to make your own important decisions. If you didn't like a job, you quit. If you wanted to live elsewhere, you moved. For a nation, true independence didn't exist. Even a nation with an empire wasn't independent, as they would always have a boss to answer to in the end. A monarch, dictator, or a president, whatever the word may be. They were all subject to the whim of another, no exceptions. But for a nation, independence was simple. It meant the freedom to live in your own home. To wake up each morning and answer only to your boss, and not another nation or their boss. This was especially refreshing for the three Baltic nations.Then. Now. and Always. ::Baltic Trio:: by SephielyaJMaxwell
While a few hundred years might be nothing to nations as old as themselves truly were, that didn't mean that they went by quickly. Their many years of oppression had done little to stifle these three
Hetalia Trio Meme(Read the description if you don't know what you have do to here )Hetalia Trio Meme by Mizu1993
1. Bad Touch Trio:
2. Magic Trio:
4. Baltic Trio:
5. Creepy Trio:
6. Mediterranean Trio:
7. North American Trio:
8. Alpine Trio:
9. Nordic Trio:
10. Chinese Trio:
1.) You are going to school with , but suddenly you fall down, because of a stupid stone that was in your way.  catches you before you reach the ground. What will happen then?
2.) You are now in school and  runs to you because he has to tell you something really important. What is it?
3.) You are now in your class and have biology.  is sitting beside you. How will you react and how will the others react?
4.) It is lunch time and  goes to you and decides to sit beside yo
He couldn't bear the lingering pain of the death of his father. Coincidently, it was also to be the death of his former mentor and adoptive father, Manfred Von Karma. Miles Edgeworth, known to be the prodigal son of the 'God' of prosecutors, shifted uncomfortably in the seat of his Alfa Romeo as he drove down the busy highway, oblivious to the horning traffic as he sped along to see the execution.
It had been two years.
Two years since his trial.
Two years since Von Karma's betrayal had been revealed to him.
And, Two years since his true friend, Phoenix Wright, stood by him in court to expose the lies and enlighten him with the truth.
But this had only caused him more confusion, pain, and worry. Not only did he have no one to turn to, but now who was he? To Miles, he was the lingering stench of a disgraceful lawyer. Considering the circumstances of previous cases he worked on before the rise of Phoenix, and the influence of Von Karma, he attained a plausible reason to be hated.
But Miles didn't want that.
Now that cloud, which hung over him all those years lifted, he could see again; now wandering aimlessly in his life blinded by the truth.
What is it to be a prosecutor?
Why did I choose this path?
Do I want to pursue this path?
And most importantly, who am I now?
The tires skidded to a halt as he parked inside the prosecutor's spot in the Detention Centre. The air smelt of burning rubber as he stepped out and slipped on his velvet maroon blazer. There before him, in the mostly empty lot, was an elevator. Since that incident many years ago, his phobia of elevators, the darkness and earthquakes kept getting the better of him, and he wondered if that will never go away. Was that horrendous trait going to be a part of him for the rest of his life; to become the laughing stock when it came to mundane things such as these?
He took a breath and went into the elevator. As he entered, he moved to the back corner and held himself. There was an oddly dressed girl, lugging around five books and a file of newspaper clippings. She wore a destroyed black sailor dress, a maroon scarf, a red tank top, black leather leggings with black combat boots. A navigational compass around her neck and a utility belt hung around her waist added to her quirk. She also had a small black school-issued handbag which had a distinctly exotic scent. Her eyes peered over at him and she smiled with a gentle blush.
Her eye make-up was kind of heavy, thought Edgeworth as he briefly glanced at her brown eyes surrounded in smoky makeup.
"Damn, it's him…why is he so…handsome? He's like twenty-six and you're, like sixteen. Holy crapola. No, logically you're only attracted to his looks and…wait…you think he's the total package….and…why is he all…no, you know why because you just read it while in the library…" thought the girl, staring at the Prosecutor.
"Excuse me, miss? W-Why are you staring at me?" asked Edgeworth. She held her breath at his voice.
"Oh! I did…..I-I-I was?! I'm sorry..I didn't-"
He noticed me, she thought.
There was a clang and the elevator got stuck. It shook a little and swung in the shaft. Miles's throat closed in on him and the memories rushed back to him.
"Oh..oh…oh no no no no no…" he whimpered. He choked back a sob, he backed so far into the corner that he caused the elevator to swing again. He sank down in fear as the elevator swung under his feet.
"Make it stop. Make it stop." He began sobbing.
The girl turned around in surprise. She knew about his terrible experience about having murders happen around him while in an elevator, but what she saw before him was really unexpected. It saddened her so much, and yet shocked her too. She gently put her books down on the other side and sat down facing the figure curled up in the corner.
She debated within herself.
Begin Inner Debate
Should I hug him?
Prom-Queen VS Connie
(Pros VS Cons)
Dude, your hero is CRYING! How can you not do something to help him! I mean, when you see the obvious symptoms of extreme fear, you should try and get them to calm down.
But seriously, Queen and Adina, you don't do psychology, nor are you an expert in this area. So what if you end up making it worse? Like hugging will do anything…but FREAK HIM OUT!
So lemme get this straight; Prom-Queen, you are saying that Miles Edgeworth experienced something bad in the elevator. We are in a stuck elevator. Therefore we need to comfort Mr Edgeworth because we are in an elevator.
Connie, you argue on the premises that we are inexperienced with dealing with others. We are in a difficult situation right now regarding someone's personal problems. Therefore, due to a lack of experience, we can do nothing.
Seriously, jerk, we can at least give him some comfort. Humans, if you want some bloody FACT, are social animals. Hugging is a social action, which in subliminal animal instinct, is a means of showing the other person you want to protect them. This is action is often shown by those who are close to you, such as family.
But…. WE ARE NOT HIS FAMILY! In this circumstance, we have no logical or rational need to hug this man no matter how much we all look up to him as a hero!
But you also fail to notice the rest of the situation! We are in an elevator and we are stuck-
I wanna go to the loo…..
Prom-Queen and Connie:
HOLD. IT .IN!
We are stuck in an elevator and considering that guy's situation and context, logically he would want someone to hug him as he is in fear. He experienced the MURDER of his FATHER in an ELEVATOR during a BLACKOUT and an EARTHQUAKE.
OBJECTION! This still does not prove the fact that hugging your hero will do any good. Your 'hero' grew up in a family, which we have no idea how he was raised exactly, and we do not know how he'll react to being hugged.
Then there is only one obvious conclusion then…hug him. That's the only way we'll ever know.
HOLD IT! I may have just the thing. Just sit tight and watch me.
Adina approached the Prosecutor and sat down next to him. Her eyes gentle.
"Hey, Mr Prosecutor, what's wrong? Are you okay?" she asked him.
He was still sobbing, she thought she caught a glimpse of his red, teary eyes from behind his folded arms. They were drenched in tears too.
How long was I debating? She thought.
She looked around, the air was getting thin. She rummaged about in her utility pockets and found her Leatherman multi-tool. Looking above, she balanced on the handrails inside and unscrewed a few panels. Cool air moving in the shaft flushed through into the elevator, but it was still unsafe to climb around in the shaft as she observed.
She went back and sat down with him.
"Okay, at least we can breathe, right? Not so bad, eh?" she sighed, smiling in his direction.
He sniffed and whimpered.
"Do…you want a hug?" she asked.
"It's consensual. I'm okay with that."
He stiffened and went back to his pitiful state. She stared at her pile of notes and got an idea. She crawled over, snagging a few stories of Edgeworth Senior's successes. She smiled at him and brought it over, reading them intently. She hoped that this may comfort him.
"You're father…" she chuckled ", he's an incredible man. What was he like as a father?"
Mile's moaned "Why do you care?"
Undeterred she kept going "Well, he was brilliant with his defences, and well, for one he did manage to challenge Von Karma….but he must have left something else behind rather than just that….he is amazing. There has to be something..." she thought aloud, scratching her head as she turned to him.
"He's dead…long dead, girl."
"Hey, Mr Prosecutor, why are you here?"
"Ah, I see….it's on right."
"At least one less jerk will be off this rock."
"What are you trying to say here?" he snapped.
"Isn't that what you guys do; get rid of the true morons off society and make it a better place for others?"
"You ask so many questions."
"So do you. Do you question the validity of your evidence during investigations and otherwise, sir?"
"Who are you?" he growled, tears streaming down his face. His body felt ridged, but his heart wanted to leave this place.
"My my my, the elevator is taking a while. Can you stand? Why don't we jump in it? I gotta go real bad-"
"WHO ARE YOU!?" came his outburst.
She turned around, dumbfounded, surprised and glad she got her hero's attention.
"Me! Of course I know who am I. My name is Adina Weathers, an exchange student in the eleventh grade from Australia. But the bigger question I ask is; who are you?"
"You know who I am."
"No I don't know you and I do know you, but do you know who you are? If you did you'd be bragging about how you know who you are."
"You're confused with the facts."
"No, I'm not the one confused. You don't even know who you are."
Miles sighed, shaking his head and curling up even more. His trembling body shook the floor.
"I…I don't know anymore. Now that my former mentor is gone, leaving me a miserable husk on the surface of the Earth."
Adina stared again. Was this really her hero; one minute a brave, fearless, elegant, well-spoken, aloof soldier of justice, and the next minute a trembling mess who didn't know who he is and what he stands for?
She scooted down next to him, awfully closer than normal and sighs.
"I thought you were…something greater than that." she muttered.
He looked at her.
"I mean…it just seems like you're unsure of yourself. Normally you'd take the stairs with no question, but today you decided to get into the lift. That's a bit out, right?" she reasoned.
"Yes…I guess it is, but.."
"I need to.."
"Because…I must take it on like a man."
"Well, yeah, you are a man." She stated
And a damn hot when you aren't a mess, she thought.
"I rest my case."
"Yeah, but that don't answer my earlier question; who are you?"
"Why are we getting into this?"
"Because it's the reason why you are here."
Miles stopped, and slowly craned his neck to look at the girl who saw his body in a fetus position for the last few minutes. She finally got to see his full face, and him see hers. Adina's eyes sparkled in youth. Her streaked hair was tied in a messy ponytail with a pair of chopsticks, geometric equipment, and pens holding in her tail. But beyond those brown eyes was a withered, old, wise soul who saw the world in its beauty and bestiality.
"You were here to see the execution of one of your most profound enemies, and yet, this man was your mentor…and adoptive father. This must mean something to you." She continued.
"He…raised me, after my father Gregory died. He was a harsh father, and forced me to become a prosecutor like him."
"Pffttt talk about a man who wanted clones. What a megalomaniac."
Glad he's going to be Judged, he will have to answer for his sins, she thought.
"And…that incident…he betrayed me and…now…."
"Who are you? Now that Von Karma Senior will be gone, who are you now?"
"I…I don't know any more."
"You are still you right; You are Miles Edgeworth and you are that crazy prosecutor who scares everyone's pants off. Not mine though. You were raised mostly by that jerk, and you began your career at 20 years old. You have a sister who is seven years younger than you, which she competes with you, and is a Von Karma. She scares people too with that extra appendage."
He gave her a stunned look.
"What? She carries that crop or whip everywhere she goes." She shrugged.
"But you are giving me every reason to hang onto my father."
"For Pete's sake, he's not your father. He's a mentor. He made you to be ruthless, yet so…never mind. Well you got a good start in law."
"..but what I did? The evidence?"
"Err….yeah about that, I don't think it was the best teaching, I'll admit."
"But that makes me even more.."
Adina, despite her efforts to comfort her hero, had enough. Her temper, usually very cool, flared up in a concoction of concern, passion, love and fury.
"Okay, you know what, this is the conclusion my brain came up with because I'm getting too tired trying to bring it up slowly:
Stop whingeing about how crap life is! You have a life many others want to have, who will give anything to be in your shoes. They want to be rich and famous and as powerful as you!
You are handsome. You know that? The way you dress, your spirit in court to ensure you do your job like a boss, your mannerisms and language palette, and your bloody smart reasoning. Every single girl out there wants you. You're so lucky to have the smarts and the looks. That's really rare, sir! Does this answer your question about why girls drool at your feet?
You are Miles Edgeworth! So, you're father is not dead. He never was, Von Karma never murdered him!
And that's the facts I assert on you, Mr Miles Edgeworth." She finished, her fringe now a mess.
Poor Edgeworth, his body trembling from the overwhelming current of new information given to him by that girl. Thoughts flew about in his head like loose sheets in the wind. Her violent praises bruised his soul.
Was he really that lucky? But living with Von Karma….
Did his appearance really make women faint and swoon? Why do they want to see him in the flesh?
But what really troubled him was the two assertions of him being Gregory's true son, and that his father is not dead.
The girl sighed and went to the other corner to spray on some Impulse fragrance. It sent up a scent of Violets and sandalwood; suitable for a high school student.
"Yes, Mr Prosecutor?"
"How am I still my father's son?"
She stared at him agape. Is he that thick, no, dense?
"You are his own flesh and blood, partially, right?"
"He raised you from birth till death, yes?"
"You are the living flesh of Gregory, biologically, yes?"
"Therefore, he is your father because he is your genetic father and he raised you from birth till his death and you experienced him. Von Karma may have taken all of your childhood and made you into something of a monster, but you are forgetting two things; He cannot take away the fact you are Gregory Edgeworth's Son. If you are Von Karma's son, which you are not, he would have made your last name 'Miles Von Karma'. Second of all, ask yourself why would Mr Von Karma keep your last name as 'Edgeworth'? To remind him that you are his enemy's son. You are his enemy and he's recognised you as that by keeping your name. But you're father was victorious in bringing down Von Karma's lies, and he succeeded in surviving to bring him down a second time."
"My father is still alive…?"
"Follows on from this line of reasoning. So he is your father, yes?"
"Was your father a lawyer? Yes. Did he do criminal affairs?"
"Now how about you? Are you a lawyer?"
"Your father was passionate about law, yes?"
"You too are passionate about law, right?"
"I don't know…"
"What…seriously? Since the conviction of Mr Von Karma, if you were truly dispassionate, you would have stopped turning up six months at the most after Von Karma's conviction. Surely you must enjoy your job, unless its for the bills then I get…"
"no..no, I do, I see the need for justice to be done. It must be done."
"Good. Now I also see that both you and your father have a solid moral compass, yes?"
Edgeworth sniffled a little, and he noticed that the corners of his mouth were turning up into a smile of triumph.
"And you being a prosecutor and your father a defence attorney, do your jobs involve…having a showdown in court?"
She smiled. Miles's figure slowly stretching his legs out from his curled position while Adina went to her bag and fished out a mirror and her Brainy-Specs; a pair of plain glasses she found in the thrift shop. She found a clipping with a portrait of Gregory Edgeworth and crawled over to him. She smiled as she patted dry his face with her scarf and slipped on his glasses, his dark silver bangs brushing across her hands like soft ribbons. She plopped down next to him again and held the mirror up to his face.
"You see…he lives in you…" she murmured and held up the portrait next to his face. There before them both was the striking resemblance of him and his father in the mirror. The glasses brought the son closer to his father.
"You look just like your father."
Then what seemed like a distant memory flashed in his mind, a powerful, benevolent voice echoed 'You are my son and I'm proud of you.'
"Yeah, I guess, you're right. He lives on through me."
"Yup, though you'd be on the far side of court, your heart and fate brought you home. That courtroom is your home, and it's where truth must be free. I wish some homes were more truthful as they should be. Maybe that bullet you shot seventeen years ago was fate being kind to you and your father. If it weren't for that shot being lodged into Von Karma's shoulder, and that case where Mr Phoenix Wright defended you, your father would not have been able to bring down a parasite of deception for good. Both of you, being warriors for what's right and the Truth, you know what you stand for, yes?"
Miles's eyes glittered and for once in a long time, that smile felt for real.
Adina continued "Sometimes sacrifices need to be made to find the truth. It's painful, but it's worth the pain to find the Truth and the Good."
The elevator rocked and began moving again slowly.
"I..I don't know what to say…"
"Sir, I don't see you as weak. Everyone has that changing moment. But remember, you are Miles Edgeworth, Son of Gregory Edgeworth, and a soldier for justice. Find the truth and fight for it. That's what your name means, right?"
Miles could only think of a two things.
"Adina Weathers…thank you."
She smiled and was even more surprised when he came to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. Taken by surprise, she blushed and nuzzled into his silky cravat, wrapping her arms around him.
His perfume. His eyes. His hair. His Embrace…it's perfect.
"I guess I found what Gregory left as his legacy."
She smiled at their embracing reflection in the elevator mirror.
"It's you, Miles." she murmured, listening to his soft heart beat like a lullaby.
That feeling; when the air around you just lifted and that tightness around your lungs and stomach just loosens, was what Edgeworth felt. He felt like he was released from a prison no one could see nor understand. All this time he thought that he was someone else; looking into the mirror and seeing something so uncanny. Today changed that; from being a Von Karma, to no one, to being the new Miles Edgeworth, Son of Gregory Edgeworth.
There was indeed a future for him; a brighter future as a prosecutor lying in wait.
And nevermore were elevators a nemesis of the great Miles Edgeworth, Son of Gregory Edgeworth.
The elevator opened up to the sterile corridor and the two broke up as the doors opened. Adina smiled and blushed furiously while straightening her dress and picking up her books. There was a plop of something on the pile of books and Adina looked up.
"No, No, sir these glasses are useless, I don't really need them. You can keep them." she said, smiling.
Edgeworth put the thin-framed glasses back on, making Adina blush even more.
"See? It suits a professional man such as you, sir. And random glasses are in."
She gasped. She wanted to blurt out 'Man, do you have a life?' at him but no. It's rude, she reasoned.
"Well, sir, if you pick up the latest Vogue magazine you'll see it's in fashion now." she suggested with a smile as they left the elevator to a sterile corridor with two alternate paths.
"Well, here we are, the execution will be just down there to the right."
"Miss Weathers, are you sure you don't need any help with those books? Are you sure you don't want the glasses back?" asked Edgeworth, concerned about the tower of books and notes in her arms. She could very well topple over with those.
"I'll be fine, sir. I think you done me a big favour for me in my life."
"What will that favour be?"
"Meeting you in person." she laughed. They began to part ways.
"Go get 'em, soldier!" she mock-barked at him. He laughed and slide his new glasses up his nose. As he walked down the hall and gazed out of a glass window, he spotted a Men's boutique and wondered if he should try the maroon coat and black waistcoat. He nodded, that may very well suit his glasses.
He entered the gallery preparing for the execution, the figure being strapped to the table glared through the glass. He scoffed and growled at Miles mockingly.
"Just like your father." he spat through the microphone. Miles swallowed deeply, terrified and disgusted at what he was seeing. But at the same time, he felt triumphant that his enemy finally knew who he was; Miles Edgeworth, Son of Gregory Edgeworth. He smiled proudly on as his enemy's cold glare was broken. His adopted sister, Fransizka sat in the far corner, desperately holding back tears. Are they tears of anger? Bitterness? Sadness? thought Miles as he glanced in her direction. He pondered on what he should do, after all they were both raised by this man, but at the same time, their experiences differed.
She is losing a part of her today, someone who she held dear and part of her, the Prosecutor thought to himself. He remembered what that girl told him.
What will be of Franszika now? Who is she?
Maybe that's what she's thinking of now.