damned_institute | Day 57: Arts & Crafts Room (Fourth Shift)

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Day 57: Arts & Crafts Room (Fourth Shift)

When she left the lobby, Anise still didn't know what to think about her visitor. All this time, she thought the one person the institute would never truly get to was the Colonel, and that if he was gone, then maybe he was hiding somewhere, plotting a way to rescue the rest of them. Now that she thought about it... maybe that was naïve of her. She only thought those things because she didn't want to believe that the institute had that much power...

Thinking about it too hard made her feel so anxious it made her stomach churn, though, so Anise decided it would be best to distract herself in the meantime, and then think about it when her head was clearer. She'd probably have to tell Guy and the others what happened, too.

While she really wanted to see the movie she helped select, she also really wanted to see if the Arts & Crafts Room had those new sewing supplies the Head Doctor talked about a while ago. When she arrived, she asked her "nurse" about it, who cheerfully replied that yes, they had them, and that Anise was among the ones fortunate enough to have the privilege of using them. Was that a good behavior thing, or a military rank thing...? Well, in either case, it meant Anise got to check out the new materials they brought in, so she wasn't going to complain.

There were some pretty floral patterns among the pieces of fabric, so Anise selected those. Anything that she made had to have a few cute elements, after all. She brought the pieces to her table along with some needles, thread, scissors, and a roll of a thick cord-like material.

Before she could begin, however, that "nurse" returned, dropping an envelope on the table in front of her. "This is for you," was all she said before walking away again. When Anise picked the item up, her eyes widened in shock. There, on the envelope, was the name Dolores... written in her Mama's handwriting. Much of the other information on the outside had been blacked out, but... was this from her parents!? Without a moment's delay, she tore open the envelope and began reading the letter within, her hands trembling as she did.

[For Claude!]

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Only a few hours prior, Phoenix had made a decision - he had decided that no matter what anyone else said about him, no matter what anyone said about the person that had been here before he had arrived, he was himself - and he refused to let everything that had been told to him drag him down. Complicated as everything was, Phoenix couldn't help but to remain stubborn about the fact - and in an effort to manage his stress, he'd resorted to expressing it through the best way he knew how - by putting his memories of his life down on paper.

Pages and pages of pencil sketches littered the table in front of Phoenix, pictures of his parents, Maya, Larry, Pearls, and Edgeworth in various scenarios intermingled together with sketches of others - Iris, back to back with a shadow of her sister Dahlia, Mia, laboring over casework at her desk, Godot sitting upon a lobby seat drinking from a steaming cup of coffee - and from the pure amount of them, it was clear that Phoenix had been working on his project intensely for a large amount of time as Edgeworth had been wandering.

The picture that Phoenix was working on currently was of Edgeworth, standing in the middle of a doorway of sorts - he was wearing a trenchcoat, his expression a mix of exhaustion from jet lag and concern, his left hand upon the doorknob. Phoenix was in the middle of adding details to the tile floor under Edgeworth's shoes when the topic of his drawing decided to sneak up on him - and he jumped as a result, letting out a surprised "ah!" before scrambling to flip the picture over in embarrassment, his face flushing reflexively.

"I...ah...um...I-I guess," Phoenix stuttered in an effort to summon some sort of response, and he turned to look at Edgeworth over his shoulder, his gaze meeting the prosecutor's as he placed his pencil down on the drawing he had been working on. A slight smile quirked at Phoenix's lips as he regained his composure. "At least it's better than a uniform - I'd take sweats over that any day."

Phoenix's efforts to cover up his drawing were a bit late as the prosecutor had more than enough time to secure a good look at it before the defense attorney had realized that he'd had an onlooker, and slight amusement had crossed his features in the meantime both from the content of the drawing and from Phoenix's reactions, though he said nothing about either.

"I don't find that particularly surprising," Edgeworth gibed, his gaze flickering away from the defense attorney to the many drawings that lined the table. Reaching around Phoenix and plucking up a drawing of Maya and Pearl, Edgeworth scanned the detailing in Phoenix's artwork. "...you've been busy." Knowing Phoenix as he was, he didn't expect him to have much of an eye for detail - it was usually the most obscure of things that caught the defense attorney's attentions - and admittedly he found himself somewhat impressed with what he saw, from the lines of shading on Maya's clothes to the beads and shape of her magatama.

"H-hey!" Phoenix exclaimed, both in protest of the fact that Edgeworth had taken one of his pictures and for the thinly veiled insult. Said like I like looking like a bum! he thought to himself in dismay, though he didn't verbalize it, knowing that Edgeworth would dance all over the grave he'd dug himself if he did.

Sitting there expectantly for a moment as Edgeworth studied his drawing, he exhaled a soft sigh and turned back to the rest of the pictures, picking up his pencil and tucking it behind an ear as he began to carefully collect them together into a pile. "I thought it might be a good idea to keep some records of everything," he started, his tone casual, "and u-um...I had some time, so..."

There was a soft tap as Phoenix managed to pull all the pictures together and pulled them upright lightly, letting them fall together into an organized stack like a deck of cards. Concealing the picture he'd drawn of Edgeworth, he placed the pile down on the table and rested his hand upon it as he waited for Edgeworth's verdict.

Nudging a seat nearer to Phoenix's with his foot, Edgeworth moved to sit next to him, though he seemed to still be studying the picture once he sat down. A thoughtful silence passed between the two attorneys before the prosecutor seemed to reach a conclusion, and he glanced back up at Phoenix and offered him the pilfered drawing. "I didn't know that you had this sort of talent," he said, turning his attention to the pile in Phoenix's hand.

It wasn't the most productive way to spend his time, but Edgeworth assumed that skill like that came from a hobby - one which was probably therapeutic, and he couldn't fault Phoenix for wanting to do something familiar and comfortable for him...and in truth Edgeworth wanted to see more of them, though he didn't attempt to press for it when it was clear that Phoenix was hiding the papers as though they were incredibly personal.

Once Phoenix finished taking the piece of paper from Edgeworth, he placed it down on the pile before lifting his free hand and rubbing his fingers back through his hair awkwardly. "...just a hobby," he said simply, before he offered up a sheepish smile, turning his head so he can look at Edgeworth. "Art was my first degree in college...before I decided to be serious about law."

The period of time in Phoenix's life where he had dedicated to himself to his art classes were almost embarrassing to him - he'd forced himself to turn away from it, the realization that he'd been turning into Larry having disturbed him deeply. The revelation had also begun his eventual, progressive alienation of the person who had been one of his closest, only friends for years - but every choice had its own cost, in a way, and Phoenix knew he'd had to do what he had, and was much better off for it. He'd never abandoned Larry - he still cared about him deeply - but Phoenix's relationship with him had been toxic, and he knew he could only keep him at arm's length, just so he wouldn't be infected with Larry's lack of direction.

"I assume that you must have needed to unwind after last night," Edgeworth said, his arms crossing lightly over his chest. He was beginning to wonder if life here ever got any easier - if by some miracle he could learn to accept the nature of the sorts of creatures that prowled through the halls at night - but it didn't take long for him to discard the hope...after all, he didn't want to be here long enough to have the ability to grow used to anything.

Between the assault from the stranger in the night and...the peculiar behavior of the man now sitting before him, Edgeworth had had a rather stressful night as well - one that he was more or less willing to forget in the face of all the research that he wanted to partake in about the institute. Even with a source of his stress sitting in front of him, however, he felt oddly at ease, and his curiosity was thoroughly piqued by the drawings he had seen - especially the one that Phoenix had been drawing of him. "You weren't hurt, were you? I wasn't under the impression that last night's assailant had done much more than tenderize Niikura, but..." The darkness did hide a lot from the prosecutor, and even if Phoenix seemed fine, he preferred to be sure.

A short pause of silence passed as the look in Phoenix's eyes turned evaluating as he studied Edgeworth, before he shook his head slightly. The prosecutor's words had been hinting at a deeper question, but Phoenix was unsure of how to approach the topic - so he did what he could with it, and he answered the surface question first.

"I'm okay," Phoenix said, a strangely intrigued yet somewhat vulnerably guarded emotion crossing his expression. There were too many things to talk about, and without a lead, Phoenix was feeling slightly lost - and the fact that his memories of most of the events that had happened after their explorations of the recreational field were muddied didn't help matters much. "How are you feeling?"

The question was tentatively prodding at the unsaid issues between the both of them, but after Edgeworth's stark rejection Phoenix felt that the ball wasn't in his court any longer. He'd imposed long enough and in regards to too many things - both here and in their world - and he couldn't help but feel as if he should be slightly reserved.

"...I wasn't harmed," Edgeworth said as he moved his crossed arms onto the table, his gaze absently settled on the pile of drawings in front of the defense attorney. The slight build-up of tension between them was stark enough that Edgeworth couldn't muster up the energy to deny it, and memories of the comment that had spurred him to distance himself from Phoenix floated to the front of his mind. Even if the words themselves had been meant innocently, Phoenix had done nothing but make it clear what his intentions were - and Edgeworth couldn't help but feel more lost on the subject than he ever was.

It was clear, however, that it needed to be discussed. The two attorneys worked well off one another when it came to investigating and solving even the most complicated of cases, but the prosecutor could feel the walls that they were building between each other out of fear and trepidation...and beyond his desire to quell his own torrential emotions, he knew that something had to change in order for them to be able to work together properly and without distraction.

But then, privacy was another issue as well. As much as he was certain that the other patients in the room weren't paying attention to them, he wasn't feeling up to having a private conversation in the company of others...however, he didn't exactly know where else to go, and he could only imagine that everywhere else would have onlookers too. If it's impossible, then I suppose that we'll have to make the best of this, he thought the corners of his lips tugging downward into a frown. The matter decided, Edgeworth looked back up at Phoenix, his expression solemn. "...Wright, before you arrived here...what was the last memory that you had of you and I?" he asked, the question holding a wealth of insight into his thoughts. He hadn't yet dismissed the idea that Phoenix might have come from a reality where something had sparked between the both of them, and he figured it would be best to even the grounding between them before anything else.

Edited 2011-07-10 19:20 (UTC)

Phoenix hesitated, his thoughts moving to when Edgeworth had left. Seeing his best friend leave again had been stressful - especially in the midst of his feelings about the prosecutor - and in the aftermath of Iris' case, he'd felt scrambled up enough that he hadn't been able to sort through everything he wanted to say. He'd desperately wanted to say something to make Edgeworth stay, but standing in the middle of the airport saying goodbye had been too overwhelming, and he hadn't wanted to keep Edgeworth from anything he needed to take care of. A light frown tugged at his lips at the memory - the hug that had been exchanged between them had lasted too long, and even Edgeworth had seemed reluctant - and Phoenix had wondered if he was making a mistake by letting him go.

"...the last time I saw you was when I saw you off at the airport on February 15th, 2019," Phoenix said warily, his gaze upon Edgeworth's. "You were leaving for Italy after Iris' case."

All of the evidence that Edgeworth had provided in the Institute pointed towards him being from a time after Iris' case - he had even mentioned knowing about when Phoenix had tried to run across a burning bridge - but he couldn't be absolutely sure of what exact time the prosecutor had come from after that event.

Edited 2011-07-10 19:40 (UTC)

After the onslaught of people that Edgeworth had known from his own reality running into him that weren't even close to his own timeline, the prosecutor was surprised by Phoenix's answer. There was nothing missing between them then (in theory, anyway, as Edgeworth knew better than to presume that everything had been perfectly alike), and as much of a relief as that fact was, Edgeworth couldn't help but wonder what Phoenix must have been thinking when he left. If his current behavior was any indication...it was obvious that he hadn't picked up on something before he had gotten on that plane.

"...our pasts must not differ too greatly, then," he said, his index finger tapping against his bicep absently. "That's the last memory that I have of you as well." Edgeworth paused, tension building in his body and becoming apparent on his features. "...to be entirely honest with you, after last night, I...wasn't entirely expecting that to be the case."

"...!" Phoenix started at the mention of what had happened, the specific nature of Edgeworth's statement jumpstarting his heart in his chest. A chill of unpleasant emotion ran through Phoenix - he hadn't meant to be so transparent, and Edgeworth was being almost painfully direct. His gaze moved away from Edgeworth immediately, a flush of pink color appearing on his cheeks. "...i-it...I'm um...I'm sorry, I..." Phoenix stuttered uselessly, before he swallowed and lapsed into silence, his eyes focusing on the papers underneath his hand.

The defense attorney was feeling intensely idiotic, his confidence undermined by anxiety that originated from both his situation with Edgeworth and the Institute - and he wasn't sure what to do. The fact that Edgeworth had left had made Phoenix feel as if his emotions about him weren't important, and he'd stewed in them for what had felt like a long while before his accident had happened and he'd ended up in the Institute. As a result, he couldn't help but to feel like he could be compared to Mystic Ami's urn - broken repeatedly and poorly put back together because he was incapable of facing/unable to face his feelings, and in most probability leaking spiritual fumes everywhere.

"Don't be," Edgeworth said to break the silence, slight amusement washing over his expression as he shook his head. "Your wording was abysmal, but I don't know if anyone else would have...taken it in the manner that I had." ...well, that wasn't entirely true - Edgeworth couldn't see most individuals not reacting to the accidental implications behind what Phoenix had said - but he did want to soften the harsher parts of the situation for the seemingly oversensitive defense attorney. Lowering his hands into his lap, Edgeworth looked down at the edge of the table, his features turning deeply thoughtful. "And in truth...I believe that we would be having this conversation even if you hadn't said what you had said."

From the look on Phoenix's face, it was clear that he didn't believe the former half of Edgeworth's words, but he was appreciative of the effort. He'd made a mess of the entire situation, as innocent as he'd thought the words had been when they'd flitted through his head and he'd spoken carelessly. The fact that Edgeworth had let him go immediately after had expressed a sort of an aversion to what Phoenix had said and done, though, and the latter of Edgeworth's words confused the defense attorney.

"...you said that we would need to talk about 'this'," Phoenix started cautiously, as he looked back at Edgeworth. "I...don't know what you were referring to specifically."

Phoenix was reluctant to call 'this' topic anything - especially when he'd probably been transparent about his feelings, while Edgeworth had been anything but. The prosecutor had still left Phoenix and America behind in his version of the world, and their friendship was only a friendship - and while Phoenix knew he could depend on Edgeworth for anything, especially considering his actions when Phoenix had nearly killed himself running over the burning bridge, he wasn't sure of the nature of Edgeworth's attachment to himself.

For a brief moment it looked as though Edgeworth was about to say something, but he ultimately closed his mouth, looking troubled. He'd hoped that they would be able to discuss the whole of this without really having to be specific, but Phoenix was either unable or unwilling to allow that to happen. Even beyond how good it had felt to encourage things between them, Edgeworth wasn't sure his opinion had changed - and that meant he did have to be straightforward about all of it, though the mere idea left him feeling vulnerable.

Moving his right hand over his left bicep, Edgeworth gripped it reflexively, his eyes focusing somewhere off to the left of himself. "...you appear to have feelings for me," he finally said, his voice hushed but loud enough to be heard. "And I...was encouraging of that fact when you bumped into me last night. I would say that is enough of a topic to start with."

Phoenix watched Edgeworth curl in on himself defensively, an unreadable emotion in his expression as a familiar reflex swelled up within him. Only this time, he did nothing to stop his own desired response - what Edgeworth had said was incredibly true and honest, and Phoenix couldn't help but to come to the conclusion that Edgeworth wouldn't say he was encouraging what had happened between them unless he meant that he wanted it.

Shifting in his seat, Phoenix stood up halfway and pulled his seat close to Edgeworth, not wanting it to scrape upon the floor and call attention to them. Knees touching the prosecutor's, Phoenix reached out his left hand and began to gently pry his fingers away from his bicep. "...you're right," Phoenix admitted in a soft whisper, now that he was close enough for Edgeworth to hear. "I do. And I can't help it - I tried to ignore how I felt when you left, because I had no idea when you would come back...but it just got worse the longer I was separate from you."

Phoenix's words coupled with his touch swelled uncomfortably in the prosecutor's chest, a deep knot forming and feeling too stretched out by the nature of the conversation. There was no denying to himself how much he wanted Phoenix's attentions, but...their situation was too precarious to even think about it. More than anything, Edgeworth was scared that anything between them might be used against them, and flaunting their emotions in the form of a relationship seemed to be welcoming the idea.

It almost hurt then, when Phoenix was being so open and affectionate about the entire situation. Edgeworth's hand didn't pry easily when Phoenix tried to pull it from his bicep, but he ultimately relented, his fingers moving to intertwine with Phoenix's just as he had done the night before. "...before I was brought here, I was on a plane back home," Edgeworth admitted quietly, his focus remaining away from Phoenix in an almost reluctant sort of way. "After I left, I...couldn't exactly make sense of why I had done what I did when...when you needed me." Gripping Phoenix's hand tightly, Edgeworth's brow furrowed, his expression turning deeply bothered. "But being here now...I don't really know what we're supposed to do about any of it."

Phoenix's expression turned slightly downcast when Edgeworth mentioned coming back - when he didn't know if he had died, what would the prosecutor have come back to? Yet it didn't make any sense - he was sure that someone would have told Edgeworth if something had happened to him, whether it was Maya or Larry. However, Phoenix couldn't see any good reason to tell Edgeworth when it would only hurt him with the possibility, and he decided not to bring it up. After all, they were here - at least, for the immediate moment.

The mention of Edgeworth calling America "home" warmed Phoenix, the possibility that the prosecutor was considering staying making him immensely happy. He couldn't help but to think that this would have happened regardless of where they were - Phoenix was drawn to Edgeworth, and from the prosecutor's words, the fact wasn't one-sided.

"...we can just be friends for now," Phoenix said simply, his honest gaze upon Edgeworth's face as he squeezed his hand in return, relishing the unique, warm texture of his skin against his own. Summoning up a slight smile, Phoenix couldn't resist feeling charmed by the cuteness of Edgeworth's reluctance to look at him. "We can work everything out on the way. I don't want to pressure you, or...make you think that I only want to be with you because I need your support here. It's more than that...and it always has been."

Edgeworth's eyes closed, the tension in his brow fading slightly as he absorbed Phoenix's words. It was a relief to know that Phoenix was willing to see the logic behind taking things slow - or not taking them at all, really - but the prosecutor didn't feel any better because of it. All of it was tarnished by the fact that if they had been home at that moment, Edgeworth would've been nothing short of elated, even if the stubborn trepidation that he had felt upon first realizing his feelings remained...but here, even as he felt oddly buoyant at having his feelings returned and begin able to touch Phoenix's hand, the sheer weight of their circumstance threatened to crush him.

Hesitantly, Edgeworth turned his head to look back at Phoenix, his brown eyes holding the blueness of Phoenix's own, and warmth enveloped him as he took in the unique way that Phoenix looked at him. The prosecutor's throat went dry, and his words and thoughts faded away in that moment, and he could do nothing but nod in response to Phoenix's words, the entirety of him feeling completely overwhelmed.

At that precise moment, Phoenix couldn't help but to stare at Edgeworth - he'd done it several times in the past, whether it was in court or outside - but this time, it was different. There was a unique kind of beauty to the vulnerable emotion in Edgeworth's eyes, to the way his hair cast shadows over his face and the light part of his lips, and Phoenix felt caught, as if someone had thrown a net over his entire person and decided to reel him in, closer and closer to the one person he desired more than anyone else in his life.

It was then that Phoenix realized what he was doing - impulsively, he'd leaned into Edgeworth, his heart beating rapidly in his chest - and his face was mere inches from the prosecutor's, his other hand having moved to rest on Edgeworth's knee for support.

"...tell me what to do," Phoenix said, his voice a soft, aching whisper as he desperately searched in Edgeworth's face for an answer. Everything in the prosecutor's face said yes, but when he had just said what he had, and Edgeworth had nodded...he couldn't help but to hesitate. "I won't do this without you telling me that I can."

The emotions clashing in Edgeworth's eyes were plain as day to see, from vulnerable and wanting to nervous and uncertain, and the pace of his breathing met him a little quicker, the closeness of the defense attorney to him making him feel too hot. It was hard to swallow how good it felt to indulge in this, the prospective desire of being able to be affectionate with someone that he cared for so deeply, and the prosecutor could feel his self-control beginning to melt away just by gazing into the intensity of Phoenix's eyes. There was no doubt in his mind what he wanted right then...but then they were still there, trapped in an institute with no rhyme or reason to it, and they were in a room with onlookers who could see what they were doing even now...

...and he couldn't let this happen, not matter how much he wanted it.

Swallowing, Edgeworth's gaze reluctantly fell away, his hand holding Phoenix's so hard that he was nearly shaking. "...not here," he finally managed, his heart pounding and protesting in his chest. "Not now, I...we shouldn't."

Phoenix tried to brace himself against the disappointment, but he couldn't help the slight wilt in his expression, Edgeworth's words and the look in his eyes feeling like a stab in the heart. "...okay," he breathed, as he slowly pulled back, settling back down in his seat without letting go of Edgeworth's hand. "It's okay. I...I get it, I promise." And when he said the words, it was to both comfort himself and Edgeworth, because he knew that this situation was difficult enough as it was.

There was too much at stake, and Phoenix couldn't blame Edgeworth for feeling afraid, though he couldn't help but to feel upset underneath his own ability to reason. Being afraid like this was unfair - being in this place was unfair - and a flash of upset, internalized emotion flashed across Phoenix's face before he stuffed it back down.

Taking in a deep breath, Phoenix shut his eyes momentarily before he breathed outwards, opening them and diverting his attention down to Edgeworth's knees. "I'll find a way to get us out of here, I promise. I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, after...after I said all of that."

The prosecutor shook his head in a manner of saying 'don't worry about it', his expression looking almost as regretful as Phoenix's before he tamped down the sharper edges of his emotions. Covering Phoenix's hand with his left, Edgeworth's hands tightened around Phoenix's, his thumb idly brushing against the back of it in an almost apologetic way. "...I know that we spoke on the bulletin board," he started, an almost pointed edge entering his gaze at Phoenix's prior relentless teasing, "but I would like it if you could meet with me tonight. I want to secure some first aid supplies, and I'd intended on having Detective Gumshoe assist me, however...it doesn't appear that he has had the time to contact me in return."

That fact was beginning to worry Edgeworth - he'd replied to the first note he had received from Gumshoe, and there hadn't been any response either - but he shelved the concern, assuming that the Detective was off lallygagging somewhere unimportant. "We could also...discuss all of this in a more private setting," he prompted as well, his gaze moving over to the patients milling around the room before returning to Phoenix.

Expression softening at the mention of the exchange they'd had on the bulletin board, Phoenix smiled slightly. From what he'd been able to see while milling around the Sun Room, Edgeworth hadn't taken the picture of the pineapple with the cravat down.

"...I'll be glad to be your 'extra pair of hands' either way," Phoenix teased gently, a soft flush appearing on his face in pleasure at thought of the fact that Edgeworth really did like him; it made him happy to know that it wasn't a silly figment of his imagination, and that he could make sexy jokes and Edgeworth would enjoy being part of them (kind of).

Shifting his attention to the drawings on the table, Phoenix decided that it wouldn't be so bad for Edgeworth to look at them after all - especially since he didn't have much to hide. He'd had a lot to hide prior, but it was only because Phoenix had been unsure of how it would affect his friendship with Edgeworth. "...and I know that I don't want to give holding yours up, but you can look at what I've drawn so far if you want."

Offering Phoenix a sidelong glance at his suggestive comment, the prosecutor ultimately nodded as his offer, squeezing Phoenix's hand one final time before releasing it. "Stealthy as you believe yourself to be, I did happen to catch a glance at what you were working on prior to my interrupting you," he said, taking the proffered stack of drawings and shuffling to the one in question.

The level of detail once again caught Edgeworth in a strange way, his eyes focusing on the slight cowlick in the back of his hair to the lines on his face, and he could barely believe that Phoenix could recall so much about him just by memory. "...you must draw me a lot if you can recall this level of detail so vividly," he surmised, his tone gibing as he looked back at the defense attorney.

Sheepishly, Phoenix lifted his right hand and scratched his fingers back through his hair. "...u-um...well..." he trailed off, his gaze upon the picture in Edgeworth's hands. "...when I first saw you when you came to help me with Iris' case...in that hospital room, that's when everything hit me - how I feel about us, and how deep it goes."

The defense attorney fell quiet for a brief moment, before picking up the topic again. "It means a lot to me for you to go through all that trouble to help me...and I know that I asked for a lot of difficult things from you."

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