Mingle and an Intro: Welcome to the Box!

[gravemanagement]

[ On today, a long-time business has been bought for the day and paid well. Whoever paid it wants people to eat and make merry for some reason. Must be a holiday? Huh, all devices showing the date day it's the new year. It doesn't matter what day it was for you before now, it's not the new year. And you? You are at the Chloe Café at 1:30PM.

Waiters and waitresses will take your order. Really, it's a chill time. Even if you're supposed to be dead? You're alive now, somewhere in Los Angeles, Japanifornia. Welcome and have a good day, because eventually there's gonna be a murder to solve in this big ol' city. ]

Comments

[marlonmajesty]

[ Kachessa Strahl is an up-and-coming defense attorney. Because of course she is. The daughter of some wealthy business entrepreneurs, she's here for some tea. And oh boy, does she have tea. She is, quite possibly, on her fifth cup while she reads the morning paper. ]

[guiltyguitar]

[ Tea? Nah. He likes coffee.

But how can he resist such a beautiful woman in front of him. Lucky place, lucky time, it seems. He pulled up on his bike the same way he does most places. And then he orders a coffee, some milk and sugar. He's carrying a little pile of documents. He's got a lot to go over for this current case. It's going to be a pain in the ass.

Seriously, a hit and run? Who does that anymore. It's not like they had any trouble finding the guy. He slides in to the table next to her. Then smiles.

Now the question is. Does she recognize the rock-star sensation and prosecutor, or is she that unaware? ]

Looks like I'm not the only one hitting the books this morning. Anything in your paper that's interesting, Fräulein?

[marlonmajesty]

[ She immediately looks like she's tasted something sour. ]

Casual flirting will get you nowhere with me. You remind me too much of my ex with that.

[guiltyguitar]

Ouch. Are you sure your shoulders aren't made of ice? I've had warmer receptions at a funeral.

[ Smile smile. He's not deterred. :) ]

Besides. I've heard about you. You're the newbie, aren't you? Congrats.

[marlonmajesty]

[ She is looking increasingly annoyed. ]

Go away. Who I am is none of your business.

[bittertasteofdefeat]

[It's not surprising that Godot would find himself at a café like this one, really. Life's too short for bad coffee, and while he could easily be percolating his own - well, it's just like the spirit of ordering a meal out somewhere, isn't it? Just because you can cook, doesn't necessarily mean that you always want to do so. Far as that goes, the same could be said of enjoying an occasional cup or twelve in a quiet establishment, away from the noise and crowds of the courthouse.

The fact that there was another patron today, however, did not escape his notice.]

Haven't had your fill of the world's troubles at work?

[There's a smirk on his lips as he asks that, canting his head to the side slightly.

The expression is forced, if only because it serves more to communicate intent as an ice-breaker/something of an attempt at bleak gallows humor, rather than an honest inquiry. Fact is, on a daily basis in this line of work, you see and hear a lot of unfortunate things. Everyone has a sob story. Reading the news on top of that, some days, would only serve as another grim reminder of how terrible the state of affairs really was.]

[marlonmajesty]

That would be true, but alas...

[ She'll set it down so he can see: it's a newspaper from a local elementary. ]

It's something I use to keep informed of my son's school. Anything to be as involved as I can. They produce something remarkably professional-looking, so I'm assuming someone there has a passion for the press.

[ Well she's in a good enough mood, and Godot has successfully made an icebreaker. ]

Kachessa Strahl. Pleased to meet you.

[bittertasteofdefeat]

[His expression softened as she revealed the type of newspaper that it was, and nodded attentively as she went on to explain that it was her son's school. It was noble, really, that she was trying so hard to be actively engaged in her child's academic life.

As she offered her name, a genuine smile crossed his lips.]

Godot. The pleasure's all mine.

[He raises his mug at that, in a very typical "cheers" sort of gesture.]

I have to agree on the quality of that newspaper - I was genuinely fooled by it, myself, at a glance.

I'm impressed that you manage to find the time and energy to be so actively engaged in his schooling, though; I know how demanding this kind of work can be.

[He's absolutely being polite and not fishing for more information than what she chooses to give up willingly - he's not some kind of creep, after all.]

[marlonmajesty]

Godot... I thought I recognized the visor. I'd wondered, but I suppose I assumed it had just become an expensive but otherwise-used product following your fall...

[ She'll put down the paper and take a sip of her tea. ]

I only just started. My son is eight, and even if we're exes, his father is involved. He also has his grandparents. So I try to be involved where I can be. It's going to be hard, but... I'm sure we'll manage.

[contemptiblecourtmaster]

[ Yeah he's cheap, so if it's paid for, you know he's going to take advantage of that.

Something about this feels weird, but whatever. He's going to settle in and find a nice place to sit and go over the various pretrial nonsense. He orders some tea and gets to work.

...

Honestly.

Who in this day and age still uses a fountain pen...? ]

[marlonmajesty]

[ Of course she comes over. And she'll sit down across from him. ]

Hello, Gallerian. Busy?

[contemptiblecourtmaster]

[ He chuckles.

Yes, in a sense, he is indeed busy. The outcome for this case had already been decided days ago, but... well. He still has to do his homework. ]

Aren't I always. What about you? Congratulations, by the way. I heard about you passing the bar recently.

[marlonmajesty]

Rook keeps me busy. As does a certain ex-boyfriend. ...He still thinks we should get back together.

[ She has her tea. ]

[unjustjustice]

...

[ He makes a face. As a father in his own right, he has opinions about Veno. ]

You really, really shouldn't associate with that man. He's nothing but trouble.

[bittertasteofdefeat]

[Godot sat at a corner table in silence, predictably nursing a cup of coffee.

While there were other patrons scattered about the café, he largely paid them no mind - even if the scattered voice briefly caught his attention, or piece of conversation, or familiar silhouette walked past. He took note of things, of course, but he wasn't particularly going out of his way to engage. After all, it's not as though he had anything in particular to say to anyone, really.

It was a bit noisier in here than he would've personally cared for, but that was only to be expected with the offering of an open tab; one that he was absolutely counting on being told he was kicked off of, starting somewhere about nine cups ago.

Regardless, the environment of a café was a familiar and comforting one. He'd be perfectly content to just sit in peace and soak up the ambience, until he'd had his fill and grew bored enough to leave - assuming he didn't have any cases to handle anytime soon, that is.

For the time being, however, he was perfectly content to sit and nurse his eleventh free cup of the house blend medium roast.]

[guiltyguitar]

[ Sorry Godot to take the seat next to you, but there's a man in a hoodie pulling it up over his face and letting out a breath. ]

Sorry about this, but if I leave here right now like this, I'm going to get totally mobbed, and I just can't afford that at the moment.

[ He pats the folder in his hands. ]

Too risky. ... This is the only safe spot where they can't see me. Fans...! Crazy, ja?

[ Indeed, this place seems even noisier than usual. There is a small throng outside. A lot of them are wearing shirts with a big "G" on them. ]

[bittertasteofdefeat]

[There's an entire half-second where Godot manages to briefly forget that a quirked eyebrow isn't visible underneath that visor of his, as the blond sits down next to him with a sigh. He finishes cup number eleven, taking quick stock of the current situation.]

Seems like you've gotten yourself into quite the bind. You're a real ladykiller, aren't you?

[Yes, he absolutely is finding some amusement in this mess, and it shows.]

[guiltyguitar]

[ He chuckles. His grin is quick and easy, though. The kind of effortless smile that comes from years of practice at it, and also just, in general, enjoying attention. ]

... If being loved is a crime, then I guess I'm going to have to call up a detective and turn myself in. What can I say? People love a man who can play. Ach! I'm telling you. It's only inconvenient on the days I'm trying to get some peace and quiet.

But I hate being crammed into my office all the time. I'm a bird. I have to spread my wings and soar.

[ A light pause. ]

... Also, I received a noise complaint.

[bittertasteofdefeat]

[He makes a subtle handgesture over at the waitress, as he had several times earlier today, to signal that he'd like a refill.

People love a man who can play

Well, that's a clue as to what is actually going on with this guy. That, paired along with the mention of a noise complaint, makes him wonder if he's probably dealing with some kind of musician. That would also account for the fans standing around outside in their G-blazoned shirts.

...It would not, however, account for the seemingly confidential file folder.]

A noise complaint?

[devilofthecourt]

[ When he opens his eyes, he is, perhaps, perplexed. He is a condemned man, one who has been dragged forth into the harsh light he himself once thought he championed and exposed for the dark and miserable creature he truly is and then sentenced to death. He had, after all, killed two people for sure, attempted to kill another--when she was twelve, to boot--and there are who knows how many other skeletons in his closet. More than anyone knows, that's for sure. And he'd made sure it stayed that way, silent and unwavering one he returned to his cell after that damned jurist system was instated and the miserable little wretch of a girl he'd tried to do away with to cover for the forgery he had her made managed to escape an accidental trap he laid that snagged her father instead. and yet...

And yet... Here he is, sitting in a café, like he'd never been confined to solitary and like he'd never been found out. There is tea in front of him, made precisely how he likes it, and no chains or bars and no threat of a noose around his neck. It's quite astonishing, really, and he looks around momentarily, taking note that, at least for the moment, no one seems to be taking notice of a condemned man walking free.

For a moment, the demon in his heart whispers. He could have revenge. He could kill Phoenix Wright, like he should have some time ago. He'd underestimated him. And that boy he'd taken under his wing, too, for turning his brother against him. But the thought of harming Apollo wilts as soon as it blooms. No. Just like he wouldn't kill Klavier, he would not kill Apollo.

...Perhaps Apollo is, in a way, who he had wanted to be, and that had given the demon that whispers in his heart some hint of blood to lap at. But no, no, he won't even dream of hurting Apollo. Apollo is... A complicated matter, anyway.

At least for now, he finally settles on, he will simply sit here and enjoy a nice cup of tea without worry about cell checks or anything else. ]

[guiltyguitar]

[ He'd been having such a nice day.

And now his nice day had gone from bad, to worse. It had been an absolute shock to his system, and when he'd read that article, after having that talk, he'd left the café, and come back someone entirely different.

Someone weighed down by too much. It'd only been moments here, though. Somehow.

This place was weird. Really weird.

The last thing he was hoping to see was the very thing still haunting his thoughts and his nights. His brother. He still had no good explanation for why Kristoph did... well, anything he did. Why he'd resort to murder. Why he'd try to kill Vera Misham. Why he'd try to forge evidence. Why he'd try to ruin Phoenix Wright's life. Why he'd do so many awful things.

He grew up with Kristoph. He thought he knew the man. He looked up to him. Kristoph was part of the reason he wanted to go into law so badly. That was the idea, wasn't it? Each of them on opposite sides of the court, doing their best to help people in their own way, because the law, it was imperfect... at least. That's what Klavier had thought.

But looking at his brother now, he wonders. What had he thought. Had he seen a convenient person to be used? Was that all he ever was? A pawn to be shuffled across the board? He doesn't know anymore. Had he ever cared, at all? Even a little? Just looking at Kristoph makes bile rise in the back of his throat, and he considers immediately leaving, but... well. The authorities should keep an eye on him. What if this is how he escapes. (But part of him doesn't WANT his brother to die. He doesn't. The child in him is kicking and screaming for that not to happen. He loves him, he does.)

... Fuck, he hates this.

He has to do something.

And part of him IS angry. But what to do? He fiddles with his hair. He's at a loss. ... He has to approach him. No choice. He slides easily next to him, like it's nothing. Like this is normal. ]

... Kristoph. Taking an unauthorized jaunt?

[devilofthecourt]

[ When Klavier approaches, when he sits down, when they're now sitting together and his brother is talking to him, something inside Kristoph twists. It's primal and angry. Klavier had betrayed him. Klavier had led him along into the trap like a happy little lamb, confident it was safe right up until it realized it was going to be slaughtered. But he bites back the accusations, instead letting his expression fall into the careful sereneness he'd practiced for far too long. Especially now, he needs it, when there's venom to be spewed. He must, after all, remain in control, now that the opportunity allows him to have any. ]

I'm sure you know how unlikely that is, given you were there when they walked me out that second time. They're not likely to let me out in any way without handcuffs and multiple trackers.

[ The venom is there, lacing into his words, icy and stinging. "You betrayed me," the undercurrent of his voice says. "I looked to you to help me and you betrayed me."

Kristoph isn't sure why he thought Klavier would be any different than everyone else, honestly. ]

[1/2]

[guiltyguitar]

[ Ah.

He's not sure what he was expecting. He knows... on some level, he should have expected this, after that trial. He wasn't there for the one Apollo was involved in but that last one. He saw the ugliness taking root in his brother. That darkness.

The venom coming from him now... maybe the real poison wasn't in the nail polish. Maybe it was inside his brother. That thought... eats at him.

And yet.

There was a part of him, almost, that was hoping... they could have talked. Like they used to. Almost. Was he a fool? He was. He knows he was. He was... a fool. An ideological fool. ]

...

[2/2]

[guiltyguitar]

You're right. They're not. Curious, that. Someone's gonna have to keep an eye on you.

[ He smiles. It's a little sharper than usual. But that's fine. ]

No reason to get angry about it, ja? I'm sure you must be accustomed to having company by now.

[devilofthecourt]

Do you truly think I would go out of my way to cause more trouble than I have? Phoenix Wright would surely find some way of trapping me into confessing with his countless bluffs.

[ The name is said with more venom than he means to show. He had once considered Phoenix... At least useful, if not a friend. To then be not only betrayed, but counter-conspiracied, well. That sure is not a fun feeling. Still, he takes a sip of tea to calm himself--the tenseness of his hand causing the muscles to flex and that ominous face to appear. He's angry.

He is so

so

very

angry. ]