damned_institute | Day 37: Men's Showers

Entry tags:

Day 37: Men's Showers

I wouldn't really call this a locker room. More like a bathroom with lockers. The place was uncomfortably crowded, with almost every adult male patient being hustled into the showers at once, but Phoenix wasn't as annoyed by the claustrophobic, milling throng of bodies as he might have otherwise been. Every extra person was one more person who might end up standing between himself and Edgeworth.

He knew that the prosecutor would have a fit if he found out about this. He'd known since he'd tacked that first response up on the bulletin board. And in a way, he couldn't blame him. Phoenix knew that he jumped into things all-or-nothing more often than most people. At the same time, he had some kind of reality testing. He wasn't going to learn the basics of how to defend himself and suddenly decide that he was Rambo.

He found an unoccupied locker in the southwest corner and glanced around, trying to gauge how long he could possibly stall in a locker room, looking as if he was expecting something, before people started looking at him strangely. It would have been easier if he'd known something of the description of the man he was supposed to be meeting. As it was, all he had was handwriting and a military rank, neither of which guaranteed any particular appearance.

It's not as if there was a better way to plan this, though. "Yeah, meet me by the lockers. I'll be wearing gray and a smiley face, just like about a hundred other guys."

[for Hughes]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I know you can't declare someone an enemy so easily. It's a strength of yours, even as it's a point of contention right now. But, Wright, I honestly think you're taking this less seriously than you should be. People who you think are acting in your best interests can turn around and stab you in the back at the blink of an eye. I don't think Kristoph Gavin is really going to be acting in your best interest."

Edgeworth sighed, turning to the door himself after taking a moment to smooth his hair into its usual style. He made a mental note to ask for a bit of that one hair product he usually used, because those little bits at the sides of his head liked to stick out occasionally, but they didn't seem to be doing so today, which was a relief.

"Thank you. I know it's a lot to ask, and I probably seem...well. I'm sure you have words for how I seem right now, that you'd rather I not hear. But I'm worried. It might be nothing, but I can't shake the bad feeling I have about him."

If this had been any other situation, Miles might have made the move forward to take Phoenix's hand. That would be a breach of etiquette, however, and more than that, it would draw the attention of the staff. Still, he couldn't help shooting Phoenix a look after that, one that said, 'I'd kiss you right now if I could.'

Why is there a bad feeling in the first place, though? Is it intuition? Your dad? Something you're not telling me? Or do you just hate the story he's giving us that much?

"I know," he answered simply, giving a subdued half-smile that made the nature of his response - whether it was directed to what was being spoken or what was left silent - entirely ambiguous. He was nearly at his locker when he remembered that there was something else he'd been meaning to talk with Edgeworth about, something that didn't involve mystery men from the past or future. "Oh, by the way, what room are you in?"

. . . okay, could have timed that better than on the heels of the Deeply Significant Look.

Edgeworth simply nodded, trying and failing to resist the brief urge to smirk. "I'm in M59. I assume you'll be by later? I need to make arrangements to pick up something tonight, but I'm free after that."

He quickly dressed again, careful to keep his eyes averted. "I'll see you tonight, then?"

"I . . . actually have plans for tonight." Hell, there was no use keeping this a secret. If anything, what he was planning on doing might be a relief to Edgeworth after their last conversation. Show a healthy level of mistrust in humanity or something like that.

"I can't afford to not know the first thing about fighting, not the way things work here." Not in a world where there weren't police or even laws. Definitely not in one with this many wild variables. Not when he knew that he already had people he'd want to protect, and if anything he'd just acquire more. Phoenix finished dressing and took his towel to his hair, trying to get it at least a little drier. "Mr. Hughes - I don't know if you know him - he's going to be teaching me some basics." He raked back his hair into a semblance of order, looking back at Miles. "If you need me around, though, I'm sure I can reschedule."

Edited 2008-12-04 06:12 (UTC)

"I believe we've met, though I also know him by reputation. He's been here a long time and knows a lot. You could do much, much worse than working with him." Edgeworth nodded as he spoke.

"In that case, I'll likely make arrangements to work with the History Club tonight. I've been working with them off-and-on for some time, and actually, the person I'm going to meet works with them as a weapon-maker. I'll be picking up something from them for myself." He looked expectantly at Phoenix, waiting for the surprise to set in.

"I know several people who are skilled with the use of swords. I'll be taking lessons from one of them at some point. I admit, I find the idea that I'd need to learn how to use one somewhat distasteful, but as you just stated, in this place, one needs to be able to defend themselves. I don't want another incident like the one the night before last, even if it did lead to..." He trailed off.

Phoenix blinked, caught off-guard but not enough so to honestly stare. A sword? He supposed it made a certain amount of sense. A sword was dependable; even if the edge dulled it had some value as a stabbing or bludgeoning weapon, depending on the type. With that shoulder, it would probably be closer to the former - something lighter, something that could conceivably be used one-handed.

The mental image was a little more appealing than it probably had any right to be, which only deepened the resulting flush when the last sentence trailed off into awkward silence. He looked back at the lockers quickly, pulling on his shirt. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he replied, reluctantly half-grinning in a way he was sure was probably perfectly adolescent. "Better ways to go about that, probably."

It could've been worse, I guess. I mean, I think I've ended up in most of my relationships because of actual murder. Assault and battery is a step in the right direction.

A hand intruded into his field of vision and returned from the open locker with an oddly-shaped white mass that Phoenix took a few seconds to identify as a folded-up sling. He quirked a concerned eyebrow, following the arm back up to Miles' face. "Do you want a hand with that?"

"I won't be taking those lessons tonight, for obvious reasons, but with at least one person out for my blood, as distasteful as I find the idea, I'm safer having something with which to defend myself," he said.

"And about that, I have to agree," Miles began, trying - and failing - to keep from blushing just a little in response. "But I suppose, in the situation we're in..."

Not helping, Miles. Even if it is somehow satisfying to think of spiting von Karma by, well, sleeping with his sworn enemy immediately after. That blush grew a few shades deeper at that thought, and he turned and looked away for just a second, long enough to let it fade. Why, exactly, am I acting like a teenager? Get a hold of yourself, man.

That last question of Wright's didn't help, either. Yes, it was true that he could use a hand getting the sling into place. On the other hand, though, if they were that close, he didn't know if he could easily resist that very strong temptation to lean in and...

He glanced around quickly - it seemed that most of the nurses were distracted for the moment, and there weren't too many people there. At least if one of them did slip and lean in a little too close, it would go largely unnoticed.

"I - er - yes, I would appreciate that."

Edited 2008-12-07 16:46 (UTC)

Laughing under his breath, Phoenix moved a few steps closer, taking the strap of the sling and trying to figure out exactly how it was supposed to be arranged. "You're right - hold still," he answered quietly, finally figuring out the length of nylon webbing and lifting it over Miles' head. He moved behind his shoulder, trying to straighten the whole affair and finding that the strap had gotten a little twisted in the slider that allowed for length adjustment. "Dinner and a movie isn't exactly an option these days."

Standing this close would have been nice - comfortable, even - except for the knowledge that there were nurses right there. Phoenix wasn't used to having to hide what was important to him - on the contrary, he was used to declaring it a little bit louder than everyone else. But that wasn't a safe thing to do in the Institute. He didn't want to see his affections weaponized and turned back against him. Not again.

At the same time, they weren't really being closely watched, and the crowd was starting to thin. And occupied as he'd been in figuring out the slider, it wouldn't really look out of place is he leaned closer, just for a second-

The kiss was quick, silent and unannounced and in that little bare corner between hair and ear. It was the kind of kiss that, given on the cheek, would have been platonic in a large number of countries. But it was, and that was what mattered.

Phoenix grinned, standing back and letting go of the sling. "There you go. Can you get the rest?"

"No, it's really not an option. We do what we can, though," he said, obligingly holding still while Phoenix made the adjustments to the sling's strap. "Shame it had to involve what it did, but hopefully it won't always be that way." It wasn't a flowery speech - Miles didn't think he was capable of the kind of big, flowery speeches that some other people were. Phoenix would understand that, though.

Then, that quick kiss happened, and he needed to bite his lip to keep from making a quiet, appreciative noise. He looked up and smiled. It hadn't been the kind of thing that would attract attention, but it had been just enough to dispel a lot of the quiet worry that had been building.

"I think I can manage," Miles grinned, making one last small adjustment before stepping into his slippers. He stepped up to where Phoenix was standing, and quietly said, "Be careful, all right? If I'm keeping track of the days correctly, people will be taken for experiments tonight. If that happens... well, if it happens, and if we're right about the way the voice works as a warning for people I'm close to, I'll find out. And I'll be there, with reinforcements." With that, he glanced around again, and noting that they still weren't being watched closely, thought damn proper etiquette and leaned in for a quick return kiss to his lips before stepping back again, turning towards the door.

Some kind of thank-you (in retrospect, Phoenix had no idea what he'd even been saying, but he assumed it was a thank-you) was cut off by an entirely unexpected, broad-daylight kiss. And for all that Phoenix would have thought he'd at least manage some sort of witty response to that sort of thing, he mostly watched Edgeworth walk away while his brain floated off on a fluffy, humiliating cloud of ♥ ♥ dur hur hur hur ♥ ♥.

Get a grip, Phoenix. Your nurse is going to ask what happened to you if you go walking out that door with a big, stupid smile all over your face. He shook his head, toeing on his slippers before heading for the door as well.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Day 37: Men's Showers

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject