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

[ 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. ]

[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.]

[ 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.

[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?

I do my best thinking when the music is loud. I suppose most people at the prosecutor's office... don't really like that.

[ Man, why does he feel like he's seen this guy somewhere before? Cereal box? No. Hrmmmmm... ]

Everyone's so uptight. Nobody knows how to have any fun anymore.

[When the waitress comes with cup number twelve, he's not long taking a sip; he's at least smart enough to not just down this one - even if the temptation is absolutely there.

A fellow prosecutor? He absolutely must've misheard that. There's absolutely no way. His expression of momentary disbelief is absolutely telling on him for a moment or two while he's trying to make heads or tails of this before quickly pulling it back together.]

Define "fun", in this context? Because, I have a funny suspicion that the prosecutor's office was never very tolerant of things like loud music.

[He sips his coffee, calmly awaiting a reply.]

Fun for me, or fun for them? Because that's a big difference. Most prosecutors think making people guilty or having a big winning streak is fun. Even I studied about von Karma in school back in the day.

But...! Complaints or not, that isn't our job, is it? Our job is to put on a damn good show with the facts and evidence we've got until the truth dances out onto stage and sings for us.

[ That's just how it is. He's always felt that way. ]

[He can't help but smirk a little at that - if only because the kid has a point about verdicts and winning streaks and victory counts in the prosecutor's office; something that even he'd fallen into, somewhat.

He studied von Karma in school back in the day? He makes it sound like the old man was ancient history.

...Which probably isn't a terrible stretch because he was absolutely a living fossil for awhile there, but that's besides the point.]

That's an awfully poetic way of looking at it, don't you think?

[It's a simple question, but one with quite a bit of heavy, unspoken implications. Because what he's not saying, are the backhanded references to some of the dealing and corruption that occurs within the system at a fundamental level. In fact, that very corruption is what drives the system and keeps it going, after a point.

...Seeing someone with such an untainted view of things was almost as refreshing as it was jarring. Is this guy a new prosecutor? Surely, he must be, if he's not anywhere as jaded as the others and still clinging to such bright idealism.]

Do you know what making music and making a case have in common? It IS all about the poetry. How you spin what's in front of you.

[ He whips out his shades. The sun is moving in. It's a little glaring. And besides, he's a little worried someone might recognize him still. ]

... It just so happens some people like to hide things, or add extra things into the verse, and it gets all muddled. The system might be a mess, but it's our mess. Nobody's going to mop the floor for us! I'm afraid courtrooms don't get enough groupies for that!

[ A pause, and he grins. ]

Besides, it sounds to me like you know all about that, ja?

[ You don't ask the right questions like that without SOME kind of insider knowledge. This guy is a lawyer of some sort. He's definitely not law enforcement. Klav has too many buddies in that to not recognize someone in the force. ]

[The kid's sharp, even if he speaks in music metaphors like they might as well be a second language to him.

There's a hint of an amused grin as he takes another sip of his coffee.]

What can I say? I know a few things.

[That hint of a grin fades fairly quickly, and any trace of amusement vanishes along with it, as he adopts a much more serious tone. Even if he is playing off the use of metaphors the blond had set.]

I might have played my share of bittersweet melodies over the years, and more than a few somber requiems.

[He takes a long sip of his coffee. It's not visible, thanks to his visor, but his eyes are briefly closed as he mulls over the sensory input from the beverage like some kind of grounding tool - focusing on the feeling of the steam, the feeling of the hot liquid on his lips, the taste composition of the blend, the aftertaste, the fragrance, the warmth of the mug..A brief distraction from the high risk of falling down the trap of getting caught up in his own mind, but a welcome one. For that one little moment, all that matters is the steaming hot drink. The world can wait.

He slowly opens his eyes and looks back over at the blond - not that the musician prosecutor would've noticed the difference, thanks to the visor.]

Well, you've got a hell of a pokerface. That'd put anyone at disadvantage in the courtroom.

[ Friendly way of saying he has zero idea how to read you, exactly. Still... the things he said has him remembering a lot of thoroughly unpleasant business.

His brother, in jail, for one thing. He really doesn't want to think about it. ]

... Besides, if you do this job long enough, you end up with a few spooks in your closet no matter what. Hard to avoid it.

[There's a slight bark of a bitter laugh at that, even if it is stifled and not nearly as unhinged as it could've been if he'd let it go. Before he quickly pulls his composure back together, even if there's still a slight curl to his lips as he initially speaks.]

It's not by choice.

[He taps the edge of his visor's frame, his fingers making an audible hollow sound against it as he does so.]

I wouldn't be able to see without this. Something of a lasting memento from a meeting gone wrong. Like Icarus, I paid the price for my ambition.

[The grin at that is absolutely reflexive, and probably originates from his trying to downplay how much that entire incident and its aftermath actually bothered him, when it inevitably came up around people.

And he's being nice. He's not even mentioning the details of neurotoxin and five years of coma and central nervous system damage only to wake up and find that the love of his life is dead!]

... I can only imagine.

[ It's said earnestly. Because well. He could never live Godot's shoes, now could he? It must be hell. ]

But you know. As long as you can do what you need to do... isn't pressing forward the most important thing?

[ He may have just revealed how he works, himself. His tone is a little bit more somber despite his smile. ]

Incidentally, I think I finally realize where I recognize you from. You're Herr Godot, aren't you? I've read about your cases in at least passing, back when I was still a C minor.

... A smile is all people harmed by monsters have. If you let them take that away... ha ha ha. What else do you have, really?

[ "Isn't pressing forward the most important thing?" he raises his mug in a very sort of "cheers" gesture at that, a sort of quiet agreement/acknowledgment. The kid's right, that really is about all that anyone can do.

There's a bit of a natural smirk that crosses his lips, however, at the recognition. Frankly, he's a little surprised that the visor wasn't more of a tip-off - but he's not complaining. It's just as well that someone like him isn't noticed or identified on-sight.]

Correct. Although, I'm surprised that you actually bothered to go over any of my former cases. Which ones, out of curiosity?

[It's an important question, a much more polite spin of "how much do you know, exaactly", and much to the same general effect. As he sips from his drink, he's quietly hoping that the blond never actually bothered to see the footage from that final case of his. Nothing quite like "and then you committed murder only to get arrested and die of complications from that poison's damage shortly after" to make a conversation go well.

...Especially with someone who appears to hold such high ideals.

His expression is a more serious one as he speaks.]

You'll have to forgive me. Despite my best efforts in this conversation, I still can't piece together who you actually are. Aside from being a prosecutor who likely had some kind of musical career at some point.

[A small smirk.]

Your fans are a bit distinctive, in that regard.

[So were the music metaphors, but he's not going there.

"...A smile is all people harmed by monsters have. If you let them take that away... ha ha ha. What else do you have, really?"

This kid gets it.]

An attorney is someone who smiles no matter how bad it gets.

[Another slight, slightly bitter smirk.]

If you can't manage to look like you're holding it together, you really don't stand a chance out there. Nobody is going to trust someone who comes off like they're lacking confidence. And if things are going badly, why give them the additional satisfaction?

[His expression is back to being that default serious and slightly somber one.]

...If anything, it's just unfortunate how many people out there have been harmed by monsters.

[What the other prosecutor can't see is that he absolutely just closed his eyes for a just moment after saying that.

He's absolutely noticed the implications that the blond also has a few things that he's dealing with, but he's not about to go digging around and asking.]

... Well, I went over all the prosecutors worth knowing. I wouldn't say I read everything cover to cover, but... that crazy thief and the young waitress were interesting. ... Wish I could say the same for the defense attorney in those cases.

[ Mild hint he doesn't trust Phoenix? Maybe! He has no proof... and he isn't sure about his brother.

Maybe he was wrong.

But for now, he has no choice but to believe that forged evidence... was Phoenix's own doing. ]

You know, I faced him down in court once myself, and found myself incredibly disappointed. My very first case, even! ... It makes me wonder if Herr Wright's reputation was really earned.

[And what had started out as a lot of uncertainty about how this was going to go, suddenly paid off in a surprisingly big way.

He and this young hotshot are probably going to get along just fine after all.

He's surprised that he's still considered 'one of the prosecutors worth knowing', but he'll take that.

Even though that last court battle seemed like it ended on a vaguely civil note, old wounds don't actually heal so quickly. Particularly not ones that run as deeply as that. So, the mention of Phoenix in a less-than-generous light? Strikes a chord with him. He'll drink to that.]

He's incredibly frustrating, is what he is. A real piece of work.

[There's an emphatic mug-point at that, a bit of an old habit. He finishes cup number twelve and signals the waitress again. How have they not decided to cut him off or kick him out at this point is entirely beyond him.

"You know, I faced him down in court once myself, and found myself incredibly disappointed. My very first case, even! ...It makes me wonder if Herr Wright's reputation was really earned."

His attention is visibly piqued. There's a story here.]

Oh? What happened?

Well. I can agree with that. It's kind of a shame. I mean, you grow up hearing about this guy that's so very special... I'll tell you what happened, but you probably won't believe me. I got him disbarred for forging evidence.

[ His easy smile is a mask. It hides the storm of turmoil in his soul about the entire thing, honestly. He flags the waitress down and asks for a coffee, himself. ]

That was my first case. Ach! What a mess it was. Pretty public, too.

[His expression briefly falters - he must've heard that wrong.

No, no he didn't mishear that.

Of course. Of course that guy would forge evidence. Somehow, this explains EVERYTHING. Or, perhaps it's just more reason to justify some of his old feelings of hatred.

He knew all along that there was a reason he couldn't stand the man, and he wasn't sure at the time if it was his blundering incompetence or the fact that his personality was so insufferable with his foolish ideological nonsense and preaching about right and goodness and trust and faith..

Mia got herself completely taken in by this piece of human-shaped garbage, who ultimately couldn't even notice that she might have been at risk of catching some heat on an investigation and it ultimately got her killed.

And now, to find out that this *man* was preaching about right and wrong like some self-righteous law superhero only for him to be every bit as corrupt as most of the prosecutor's office?

It left a bad taste in his mouth, not unlike the taste of some gas station's burnt coffee that's been brewing for too long and just left in the carafe slightly hotter than lukewarm.

He sets his jaw. The impulse, of course, is to ask how long he's been at that, and what that means for the other cases he was actually involved in - but he holds off. That's not a line of questioning worth following through on, that's a bear that just isn't worth poking with a stick right now.]

It sounds like a mess, and an awful lot of pressure for a first case. I'm almost surprised that one of the others wasn't assigned to it, because it would've been your first case.

[Admittedly, his own first case as a prosecutor was a fairly high-stakes one that was on the fairly convoluted side. However, he had the experience of working as a defense attorney before that, so it wasn't technically his first actual case.

Seeing an opportunity, he smirks.]

But, if you're a famous musician, wouldn't every case you worked be very public?

[Your fangirls aren't subtle, Klav.]

... Didn't start that way. My band was kind of a side gig. We just... got very, very popular. We're made up entirely of law enforcement types, so I guess people found it refreshing or something.

[ A shrug. ]

... It would've been better for my first case if it hadn't stalled out, honestly. I'm not mad about losing, I'm mad there wasn't a verdict at all.

[He gives a nod.

It figures, somehow, that something like that would take off, though. The novelty alone would probably have been enough for it to catch some extra attention.

The mention of his first case stalling out without a conviction catches his interest again, however.]

The charges were dropped, then?

Dropped? Ha ha ha ha ha ha. I wish.

[ His smile is easy as ever, but his tone implies the opposite of amusement. ]

More like... we dropped the defendant, and nobody could find him to pick him up! When things started looking south for the defense, he stood up there on the stand, and he said, "Nobody can find me guilty."

We had no idea how right he was, until he literally vanished before our very eyes... a talented magician, that Zak Gramarye.

[He never could've thought that he'd be thankful as Hell for some of his worst cases - and yet, at least he never had to deal with a vanishing defendant. A dead one, yes, but not one that literally managed to escape before his eyes.

..Actually, mentioning that might come as some kind of consolation. He takes a sip of his coffee.]

Mia Fey's first case involved the defendant taking his own life on the stand. At least you were spared an incident like that one.

[There's a slight smirk, but it's a bitter one. The truth is, he doesn't particularly care to remember that day, either.

He looks down at the coffee in his mug, and at his reflection in it, for a moment or two.

..It all really started with that trial, didn't it? It really was the beginning of his end.]

[ That has his attention real fast. That sounds like a hell case to him. ]

... I would hope I don't have to deal with that. This system is confused enough as it is. What a nightmare that must have been.

I was lucky. My first case made enough waves in a positive way they stopped comparing me to my brother.

[That's a fair assessment - it absolutely was a hell case.

He smirks, even though his tone remains level and dead serious.]

Believe it or not, that was hardly the worst aspect of that case.

[Another sip of coffee.]

Well, that counts for something, doesn't it?

[And that's an actual easy-going smile with actual warmth. Something a bit more genuine in the wake of all of the reflexive posturing and bitterness. An expression that would surely spark recognition of his old self, if anyone was familiar with one Diego Armando.

Not that it mattered, even if it was almost proof that there was some lingering vestiges of who he once was, under all of that bitterness and despair.]

... You work in the law, and it bites you, after long enough. Maybe even immediately, if you're truly unlucky.

[ A sigh. ]

But it needs to be done. As long as men keep committing crimes, there will need to be people to defend the innocent, and people to indict the guilty... ja?

Mingle and an Intro: Welcome to the Box!

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God-Os: As dark and bitter as his soul - Now with MORE intense coffee flavor!

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