Day 50: Cafeteria (Brunch)

[selfrescuer.livejournal.com]

Somehow, after their talk in the chapel, Elaine felt simultaneously more accepting of and more irritated by her future husband. On the one hand, seven years had clearly been good to him. He seemed more sincere and thoughtful than he had been before his disappearance, and he had a more mature (dare she say, handsome?) look to him. On the other hand, there were clearly some things that made even time throw up its hands in vain and say, "To hell with this!" Guybrush was still inexorably prone to disastrous accidents if the story about the Pox of LeChuck was anything to go by, and he was so obviously keeping something important from her that any passing dolt in the Institute would have been able to tell. In the end, that eternal underlying sweetness of his that won out, keeping her from punching him again, at least. That was only by a hairs width, though. Her snugglecakes was going to have to stay on his best behaviour if he knew what was good for him.

She left the Mighty Pirate™ alone for the time being when the announcement of the next shift went off. He would want some time to catch up with Morgan next, presumably. As much as the woman's attitude bothered her, she was a friend of Guybrush's, as she had claimed. Elaine could be strict, but she wasn't the kind of shrewish future wife/past fiancé who would keep her man from seeing his friends. Besides, she needed some more time to catch up on the goings-on of the Institute. Patients filled the building to the brim, now, it seemed; there would be a lot to investigate.

After a few quick trips back and forth to the bulletin and a few new leads to follow up on, the governor gave in to her nurse's persistent nagging and headed to the cafeteria for brunch. After the relatively light fare of the day before, Elaine took advantage of the Institute's admittedly scrumptious offerings and loaded up a full, balanced brunchfast of eggs, sausage links, waffles, and vegetable soup. As expected, the selection of drinks did not offer either root beer or grog. Grog she could live without, at least, she thought while making a face. Eugh. For now, she settled for a tall glass of water.

Elaine settled into a seat in the cafeteria and tucked into her meal. Her eyes didn't stay on her food, though, instead gazing around restlessly; she hadn't seen LeChuck so far this morning, and god forbid he wanted to invite himself to brunch with her if he chose now to show up. A certain horribly unpleasant dinner on Mêlée Island came to mind. She was prepared to either move at the first sign of the dread pirate or signal a random stranger to sit with her before he could.

[For Dean]

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[lawful_perfect]

"Indeed," the elder prosecutor nodded, studying his daughter's expression for signs of any belief that contradicted her statement. "For a von Karma to maintain an association with one who blithely allows the guilty to walk free... is to permanently taint his -- or her -- own blood. I am glad to see that you understand this well, Franziska." His eyes were now like steel, cold and unyielding.

Satisfied -- and relieved -- to find that she still held firm to the von Karma creed, the older von Karma now turned his attention to the matter regarding the previous night, taking notes as Franziska related the events. Though this... anomaly Franziska described was different from what he had experienced on other nights, it still sounded very similar to them, particularly the "parlor trick" illusion in the Entry Room, followed by blood seeping from the walls. Disturbing. Only two weeks ago, he never would have believed any of these occurrences... yet now, here he was, listening to this poppycock that he should have by all rights discounted as delusional nonsense instead of taking it seriously. Of course, it helped that the source of this information was as reliable as he could expect in a place like this.

After Franziska had finished speaking, he set down his pen and closed his eyes. "Hmph. Yet more tomfoolery from the Head Lunatic himself. He wants to delude us into blindly believing in this teleportation rubbish. I must give him credit for its authentic appearance as you have described it." He now tugged at the fabric of his left sleeve, back and forth. "Still, just like the optical illusion in the Entry Room, there must be a logical explanation for this phenomenon. We just have to find a way to break through this facade of smoke and mirrors. It may take more than one night to solve Martin Landel's complex riddle."

von Karma opened his eyes again, determination emitting from them as he met his daughter's gaze. "No, I had not. Last night for me was quite uneventful, though not entirely unproductive." He left it at that; Franziska needed not know that his whole night was spent in bed, reviewing his notes.

[iwhipthefool.livejournal.com]

His comments always came out more like orders and Franziska felt herself sitting up a little straighter, listening a little more closely, and feeling just a tiny bit smaller while he spoke. It was unfair how she always felt like that child crying out for attention whenever he was around. She was a prosecutor in her own right! She had achieved so much on her own: become the youngest prosecutor in Germany, held a perfect record in her home country, went after international smuggling rings and helped solve impossible cases! But then....none of that mattered in the face of his record and his accomplishments. She would always be the little girl walking in Manfred von Karma and Miles Edgeworth's shadows. God damn them all.

"I understand, Papa." And despite her desire to overcome and her hatred of her position, she couldn't bear to leave it. She acquiesced where she should have fought. She maintained the status quo.

"And yes, Papa, it will indeed. Last night, the three of us attempted to find a pattern, but we were interrupted before anything could be established. If you deem this matter worthy of further investigation, then perhaps we should begin interviewing witnesses from last night and gather a database of experiences from which to pull the truth." Hopefully from people who weren't going to blather on about unimportant things and stick strictly to the facts.

Which reminded her.

"I believe Klavier Gavin removed something from the scene of one of these purported teleportations. I will interrogate him on the subject later."

Franziska paused and closed her eyes. She couldn't beat around the bush any longer. "And speaking of interrogations, I'm afraid the investigation regarding your case has come to its conclusion. Your presence is requested tonight for the preliminary hearing. A trial will be set at a later date. You are available, aren't you?"