itsfairplay | Mingle and an Intro: Welcome to the Box!

[ 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. ]

[ 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?

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

...

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.

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. ]

[ He orders a coffee. Cream and sugar. And sighs deeply. His brother had always been like this, hadn't he? When someone had made him angry... ]

Only mad to get caught, rather than upset to think about the fact you tried to kill a twelve year old little girl, huh, Kris? ... Honestly. Herr Wright's courtroom tactics have nothing to do with your guilt. You're just mad you lost.

So says the golden child who never had to clean up all of his messes. He could always afford room for error, after all.

[ Vera was an error, of course. An error that should have been corrected years ago. Destroy all connections, make sure no one can talk. He is, after all, more prepared to judge guilt than the common folk. Him, who has had to struggle and crawl through the muck and the grime because of something out of his control. ]

[ ...

He makes a face. A very, "what the fuck, dude" kind of face. ]

Kristoph. Everything I did was because of you. It was because of you. The only thing I did on my own... was my kind of music. Classical was never my taste.

[ ... Seriously? What's UP with him? He just doesn't get it. Surely he knew how much he hero worshipped him? How much he always had? ]

I looked up to you. I admired you! I studied law because of you. Mein gott. You act like I purposefully want to harm you. You think I wanted this? You think I wanted my brother to end up a murderer? We were supposed to help people! We were supposed to help each other!!

If you think the world works by people helping each other, then you're a naive fool. Do you think our justice system would see so much use, day in and day out, otherwise?

[ It's the first time the veneer is actually dropped in this conversation, and those cold, dead eyes level on Klavier. They're piercing, like they see through someone to their core. Watching. In fact, if Klav pays attention, it might almost be a little familiar. Just a little. ]

[ Brr. Those eyes feel like they're crawling down his spine. Hrrrgh. He doesn't like it. It... definitely is. ... Boy, he hates this. But he's not about to let Kristoph, or whatever it is he's become, stop him from doing or feeling what he knows is right.

... Despair could easily consume him. He... knows that. He's seen it firsthand. But he... refuses. He won't... let that happen. ]

... Maybe. Maybe the world is a cold and uncaring place. After all, there'd be no reason for the system in the first place if men weren't hurting each other day in and day out. But... the law exists so we can give everyone a fair shake.

And you're wrong.

Because I've seen it firsthand. I've seen both sides of that courtroom working to help people... working to find the truth. That's what's important. Not who's guilty. Not who's innocent.

But the truth. Sometimes that truth is ugly, ja? But it's what needs to be shown.

The "truth?"

[ The cold eyes that look at him don't waver. What does Klavier know about the truth, wrapped in the comfortable world of the familiar? Of lies? He doesn't know the skeletons still in the family closet--why they're eight years apart. Why their parents hate each other and can barely stand him. Surely he'd noticed? But no, why would he? He was too busy following the unfavorite like a lost little puppy. ]

You want to know... The truth?

[ There's a dark chuckle. And the smile that slides across his features is a dangerous one. ]

...Are you sure you want to really look at the truth, Klavier?

I don't know. If I say "yes", will you finally dislodge that stick you've got stuck somewhere uncomfortable?

[ His smile seems easy, but the truth is that he's nervous. Unnerved. He was always usually pretty decent at hiding that, but... that was a habit he'd picked up.

From watching.

Even now, he's not able to escape emulating his brother to some degree. At this point, he wants to feel like his own person. Not "Kristoph Gavin's younger brother". ]

... I said I wanted to clean out the family closet, Kristoph, and I meant it. But it seems to me... like you're harboring some extra skeletons under your bed every night. We're past the point of lying to one another for niceties.

So why don't you explain it to me.

Why you hate my guts so much.

[ He takes a long drink from his tea. A long one. And then he sits there for a moment, as if thinking. Where to start. ]

Tell me, Klavier. Did you truly never notice? The stricter standards I had placed upon me? The fact that our parents fawned over you while I was forced to smile on the outside, unwelcome? I know you don't remember the incident that gave me this scar. You were far too young--four. But surely you noticed something was wrong with our happy, little family.

[ No. Not happy. It was always, always about appearances. Kristoph had learned far, far too young that the only one he could truly depend upon was himself. So why he'd thought he could depend on Klavier is beyond him. Maybe he'd still held out some hope someone would be there for him, to pull him from the darkness that had consumed him.

No one had. ]

... I'd have to be blind not to notice.

[ He'd always wondered. In fact, he'd confronted them about it a few times, and gotten stock answers of "he's the eldest, we expect more of him" or something like that.

He never bought it. ]

They were overbearing. Why do you think I left and did my own thing so quickly? You know I value my freedom.

[ The sooner he could get out of that place the better, in his mind. Something about them had always felt like a little bit too much, in every possible way. ]

I thought maybe I was imagining it. Or maybe I was young and stupid. But it always felt like there was a weird tension in the air at home.

...In late 1993, our mother went to a magic show at a bar. She'd been a fan of the magician at the time. At the time, it wasn't his professional job. It was a side-job he did, to hone his talents. And on that night... He and Mother made a single, irreversible mistake. Mother and Father weren't happily married to begin with--always about status and appearances with the two of them. But it was a mistake that would haunt her to this day.

[ He takes a sip of his tea, letting the weight of that revelation sink in on Klavier. It's a big one. No one would believe that Kora Gavin would have an affair with the man who would go on to become a famous magician. And yet, the proof is right here, sitting at the table, talking to Klavier. It's almost funny how much one singular night could cause so much trouble. ]

[ He's almost too exhausted by life at this point to have a big amusing reaction.

Like. After that trial he's so emotionally drained. And has been for awhile. He had an abundance of free time now that his band had broken up, after all. Free time he threw into yet more cases.

So this is just sort of an, "of course".

He isn't sure what he expected. But he's supposing, then, that this is the reason their parents were so... like that. Part of it, anyway. ]

... A magician.

[ Well gee, considering the timing. There's only so many people it could be. Given the date, certain others would be too young. ]

You know, usually magicians are supposed to make things disappear. Not the other way around. There was always something that sat with me... like a poorly tuned guitar. You connected to Vera Misham a little bit too easily, didn't you? And that stamp. Not a lot of those were made, looking into it, ja?

[ If he already had connections in some way, or if he cared enough about it, it would be easy for him to do that, wouldn't it? Kristoph WAS quite prolific as a defense attorney. He made a real name for himself. But it could've been ANY stamp. ... Right? Like. Surely, it would've been easier to send a regular old stamp in that letter, not a special one.

... So why? ]

I'm sure Magnifi Gramarye didn't know. How could he? It was a one night stand, and Mother was all about appearances. So officially, I'm the son of our father. But both of them knew the truth, and this reflected in their treatment of me. I always connected with Gramarye's magic more than anything with Father.

[ He's very... Pensive. It's very odd. It's like the cold mask has fallen away for a time, because Klavier is someone he can be vulnerable with. But there's so much more under the surface. Well. Klav had wanted to face the darkness at the bottom, the darkness that had swallowed up his brother. Time to shine the blazing, burning light of truth on it, yes? ]

In 2006, Magnifi came to television spotlight. The year you were four years old. I was twelve, and wanted nothing more than to do the magic tricks I saw on television. So I snuck us out with some knives, into the gardens. I wanted an audience. I should have known better at the time, but I think I was hoping that if I did get hurt, Mother and Father would finally stop being cold with me.

[ "How could you do something so dangerous with your brother!? What if he'd gotten hurt!?"

The words of his mother, shaking him by the shoulders angrily while Father checked Klavier over still ring in his head, echoing from the past. His parents had never cared. He was a mistake, an aberration in their family. Unwelcome. The unfavorite. Nothing he did would ever be enough, no matter how successful he happened to be. ]

...An accident happened that day. I tried to juggle a knife. I thought I could do it. It was stupid, looking back. The wound needed many stitches. Mother and Father... Didn't care that I was hurt. Only that I could have hurt you. Whatever positive feelings I had for them... Died on that day, strangled out by the yells and the shaking before they finally got the wound stitched up. I stopped trying to earn their approval and love. I was never going to get it.

[ He just scoffs gently, letting out a sigh.

... Really, that odd feeling around his parents is part of why he wanted to leave. He'd always hated how he'd seen them treat his brother, and how they never listened to him, only kept going on about what was best for him personally. ]

Kristoph.

We're not our parents. Surely you know that. I don't need to remind you... that we're related, whatever that entails.

[ He says it slowly and gently. ]

Honestly. I'm disappointed in you. Didn't I tell you before? You could come to me for whatever. I told you that ages ago. I trusted you.

[ ... Sigh. ]

But I suppose you must not have trusted me. Or maybe you resent me. I suppose I cannot say I could blame you.

[ You know, at this point, maybe he's starting to think he's untrustworthy. Nobody seems to want to come to him for anything, other than to use him. He's starting to feel a bit like his only use is as a tool to others. It hurts, just a little. ]

...Klavier. Tell me something. How old, exactly, were you when you exited law school?

[ He lets that sink in for a moment. Lets Klavier think on that, lets it dawn on him. It's not about trust. It's about the fact that this all began so long ago, and he had, perhaps naively, wanted to shield his younger brother from the ugly truth of their family. The sordid affair was too much for even Kristoph, and he'd been a very hardened person by even then. But it was... Personal, perhaps. And he'd never been good with things that hit too close to personal. ]

Now, tell me. Why, oh why, would I burden by seventeen-year-old brother with the burdens of our family, the truth of his brother's heritage? You didn't deserve that weight upon you, Klavier.

[ This is... Perhaps the softest he'd been in a long time with his brother. The admission that he'd wanted to keep Klav from being hurt by all of that, because he knows his brother. Klav would have found some inane way to blame himself. Even though it's impossible for Klav to have been at faul for their mother's affair. ]

Edited 2022-06-02 16:11 (UTC)

Mingle and an Intro: Welcome to the Box!

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