Day 35: Bus 2

[scarletspeedstr.livejournal.com]

Wally woke as the intercom crackled to life and was surprised to find himself back in his room. The last thing he'd remembered was feeling relieved at finally beating off those dragonfly-lizard things. There'd been that weird intercom message, then... he wasn't quite sure what had happened after that, but he was certain it hadn't involved falling asleep. He'd be half-wondering if he'd dreamed the whole thing if it hadn't been for the nagging ache on his back and ankle from where he'd been bitten. A quick check revealed they'd been bandaged, apparently while he'd slept. He wondered if he had Kal to thank for that. Maybe he'd get the chance to ask later.

He jumped as the door swung open to admit the familiar face of the nurse who'd woken him yesterday. "Up already, are we?" she said cheerfully as she busied herself pulling out clothes. A blue shirt and a pair of jeans were passed to him. Wally blinked, he hadn't been here long, but he'd gotten the impression that the grey-and-smiley-face combo was standard.

"Does this mean I'm being released?" he asked, hope creeping into his voice.

The nurse turned back to him, pity etched on her features. "I'm afraid not, dear." She smiled brightly as she continued, "but today's when all the patients get a special field trip into town! Won't that be a treat!"

Wally stared at the clothes, his mind working away. He'd been trying to get into town and to a phone last night before he'd been attacked. But if they were going in today, this might be the perfect chance for him to contact the Justice League. He smiled warmly and thanked the nurse as she left to allow him to change, then happily allowed himself to be led to one of the buses, picking a seat about halfway down and sliding in to look out the window. It seemed like today was going to be brighter than yesterday, at least in the area of possible phone calls and rescues. About the only dark patch he could see was that the contents of his paper-bag breakfast were going to be nowhere near enough to fill the yawning pit that had taken the place of his stomach, and even that was tolerable when he was positive he wasn't going to be here much longer.

"And you say that time goes rushing by, but it seems so slow to me, and you see a blur around you fly, but it takes too long, it seems so slow to me..." he sung absently.

[Oh Captain, my Captain~]

Comments

[dasgift.livejournal.com]

"Oh?" Kristoph blinked in disbelief, not sure if he'd heard the man correctly. Given their last conversation, even a week's worth of memory disappearing was an enormous stroke of luck. Seven years was a million-and-one chance; he would be a fool to not think it advantageous! The problem, of course, was that it sounded far too convenient, a perfect lull for his sense of security. It was an opportunity difficult for anyone--Phoenix, fate, or otherwise--to pass up on.

He ultimately decided to play along, however. Real amnesia or not, Kristoph could always work with the circumstances. Plus, Wright never qualified how much he'd supposedly lost. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped." In a variety of ways.

"May I?" Before assent could be given, Kristoph settled into the empty spot. "My name," he began, nudging his glasses toward the bridge of his nose, "is Kristoph Gavin. Does it ring a bell?"

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Kristoph Gavin. Not exactly a pair of commonplace names, but they seemed to suit him. Both were features that Phoenix would have thought that he'd remember. He glanced over at the figure, trying to pick out any other distinguishing features that might spark something. The braid, of course. Well-groomed. Nice hands. It all drew a blank.

He rubbed at his chin as he wracked his mind for any recollection of this person who was insisting that they knew one another, doing his best not to frown as he felt the accumulated stubble there. It was an unpleasant reminder that he hadn't been at the institute long enough to even figure out the basics of where and when to shave in the mornings.

He hadn't been at the institute long. At least, not this time around. He recalled that Edgeworth had told him that he'd been gone for about a week, then reappeared just yesterday. All at once he knew a way to, if nothing else, at least narrow down the context he might have met this man in.

"I don't think so." He looked back at the man beside him, regarding him seriously. "I'm curious -- how long have you been at the institute?"

[dasgift.livejournal.com]

"How troublesome," Kristoph remarked, a mite too cheerfully. In truth, he had yet to form an opinion on the matter. "Seven years wasted. If not for the circumstances, I would take offense to this." Not really, but it was nice to pretend.

The man held a fair idea on where Phoenix was heading with the question. The why, on the other hand, was another thing entirely. "Since yesterday, I'm afraid." he answered. "Enough to hear the rumors." He partially wanted some experience along with it, but aside from the Head Doctor's rambling and patients wandering the halls, there had been virtually nothing last night.

Kristoph turned away from his companion to view the other occupants on the bus, vaguely noting the distinct lack of vacant seats. "Why do you ask?"

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Yesterday. Nobody I know (knew?) from around here, then. And seven years? I know I would have remembered seven years. The paradox was maddening. He didn't know this Gavin guy from the institute, he didn't know him from back home. When and where else was there?

He went still as the epiphany hit him, staring down at nothing, hearing the motor of the bus rumble as if from a long distance off.

I'd remember seven years. . . unless it's seven years that I haven't lived yet.

He looked back up at Kristoph slowly, caught in a rare moment of utter speechlessness. Here was someone who'd known him for seven years, if what he said was to be believed, and Phoenix knew nothing about him. Absolutely nothing. He couldn't even ferret out the specifics of their relationship. He wanted to think acquaintances, at the least. Seven years was a long relationship for anything less. But there was that level, calm nothing to all his reactions. He hadn't been pleased to see him, but he hadn't been visibly displeased either. He hadn't been rude, but he really hadn't been warm.

My kingdom for a magatama.

He reflected that maybe he just kept that kind of company. It wasn't without precedent, after all.

"Because I couldn't tell when you were from." He pushed his hat back a little, taking a deep breath and releasing it. "This makes a lot more sense, though. I just haven't met you yet."

[dasgift.livejournal.com]

It was a miracle Kristoph managed to keep his smile upon hearing the remark, though the words did cause him to turn and look toward Phoenix with a "Did you hit your head recently?" expression. The man hoped for a yes, or something equally reasonable. He was uninterested in what else could explain such a baffling statement, especially one presented so casually.

"Wright." What are you playing at? "You've lost me. If you have trouble recalling me from your past, I would think it would be more reasonable to assume you'd forgotten." Here, Kristoph chuckled evenly, as if Phoenix had just told an amusing anecdote. "Are you suggesting the space-time continuum is somehow involved in this predicament?"

And he thought monsters had been bad.

Beneath his well-disguised indifference, Kristoph felt the beginning tinge of irritation. There were simply so many things wrong with the conversation, he could no longer tell what sort of colors his "friend" was attempting to show. Frustrating, honestly.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Phoenix rifled among the rest of his breakfast items, coming up with a little plastic bag of apple slices. His stomach was just beginning to growl at him -- all of the running around last night must have worked up more of an appetite than he'd realized. "Nobody told you?" he checked, brows furrowed, though the answer was obviously a 'no.'

He found himself strangely relaxed by teasing and studying a puzzle, like a dog worrying at its favorite toy. He was never surer of something than when he'd explained it himself. "Ask five different people the date and where they come from, and you'll get five different answers. And then there's the fact that the staff calls everyone a different name, which is just its own kind of suspicious. The working theory among most people here is that everyone comes from different times and places. Worlds, even I guess you could call them. " He bit into an apple slice, chewing and swallowing before speaking. It was funny - even the most unpleasant things turned out to be evidence, more often than not. "Here's an example: are you familiar with the name 'Manfred von Karma?'"

He hoped the answer would be in the affirmative -- though he couldn't imagine why it wouldn't be. He seemed to move almost exclusively in legal and judicial circles, and von Karma had been a legend among both.

[dasgift.livejournal.com]

Recalling he'd also been given a bagged breakfast, Kristoph made to peer into the contents of his own bag, which was still hanging from his finger tips. As opposed to his companion, he did not feel particularly hungry but rather, curious about what lay in store. His nurse had interrupted him during the meal announcement; all he knew was that a muffin was involved. "If you mean the institute's sinister side, they have," the man replied, nudging the bag around to catch a glimpse of a new item. "This, no." Oh, apple slices. Very juvenile.

Finding nothing remotely appetizing, he left the paper bag to stand on his lap. The former attorney had an explanation to consider, anyway. "The name matter I've experienced for myself," he admitted coolly. "There's an incongruity surrounding the place, that is obvious." If Kristoph also took in the unexplainable shifts in the Head Doctor's character and the unlocking of doors come nightfall, he had more than enough reason to believe there was something dangerous afoot.

The whole conversation suddenly reeked of the one he had had with Crane yesterday, but unlike then, there was no shock to deal with. It was easier, therefore, to continued. "But honestly, Wright. Quantum mechanics has left the possibility of multiple words and time travel as hypotheses; why would they suddenly become applicable? And in a mental institution, of all settings?" A sigh escaped the man's lips as if exasperated, but in truth, Kristoph wanted to hear the response to the logic question, if not only to check it against him later.

Hearing von Karma's name brought a derisive sniff out of the man, who used every willpower to not ask, "Who isn't?" "Of course. State Vs. Edgeworth, December 2016," Kristoph answered. "Mr. von Karma immortalized himself in law history, for better or worse. I've heard third-year law students use him as an example on how not to react after court."

He chuckled lightly before smoothing over the folds on the sleeve of his red blazer. "And it hasn't even been nine years since his death."