Phoenix Wright (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wright_idea) wrote2008-03-25 06:46 pm
wright_idea) wrote2008-03-25 06:46 pm
Inevitability ((MAJOR APOLLO JUSTICE SPOILERS))
Logically, he should know better than to allow a man with such an obvious vendetta under his skin. Logically, he should know that there has been some manipulation of facts somewhere, some pushing of his buttons, some playing of his strings. Logically, he should just laugh it off and pretend he's never heard of any of this.
Logically tends to have little to do with reality.
And so he stares in the mirror this morning, his mind going in the same circles it's been going through ever since the most recent bombshell was dropped on him. The daughter. The daughter of the defendant is going to hand him the gun to kill his career with, all with the most innocent intentions in mind.
The one part of his brain that wants to win, that wants to continue going as things have been going for the past three years, argues that even if she does hand it to him, he's not obliged to use it. The case goes downhill either way; at least by not presenting it he can minimize the damage, buy some time to really investigate, get the girl's father out properly.
The other part can only see her expression, the look of betrayal and dismay as he holds back something she believes will keep her father out of prison. The belief that he did not, in fact, defend his client to the end as he always brags. The knowledge that her father for God knows how long will be out of his life, and she'll think it's his fault.
It's all a trap. The events haven't even played out, and he's already walked into it, simply by the nature of being who he IS. He doesn't know why the trap is laid. But the moment he walks into that courtroom that day and receives that paper, his days as a lawyer will end in a matter of hours. And what's worse, it'll end in such a way as to throw the innocence of every client he's gotten off before into doubt.
And this time, he'd be doing it knowingly.
His hand reaches up to his lapel, fingering the small badge. He'd been so proud the day he'd received it, had worn it around like a badge of pride all day. This was something he'd worked for, and even if he hadn't really been intending on going much further than speaking to Edgeworth originally, he'd come to appreciate, and even enjoy his job. Saving lives... it was invigorating.
He carefully unpins it and places it on the counter before him, and stares at the image now facing him in the mirror. Its absence is glaring.
He will have to get used to it.
Phoenix puts his head in his hands, and slowly, illogically, continues to fall apart inside.
Logically tends to have little to do with reality.
And so he stares in the mirror this morning, his mind going in the same circles it's been going through ever since the most recent bombshell was dropped on him. The daughter. The daughter of the defendant is going to hand him the gun to kill his career with, all with the most innocent intentions in mind.
The one part of his brain that wants to win, that wants to continue going as things have been going for the past three years, argues that even if she does hand it to him, he's not obliged to use it. The case goes downhill either way; at least by not presenting it he can minimize the damage, buy some time to really investigate, get the girl's father out properly.
The other part can only see her expression, the look of betrayal and dismay as he holds back something she believes will keep her father out of prison. The belief that he did not, in fact, defend his client to the end as he always brags. The knowledge that her father for God knows how long will be out of his life, and she'll think it's his fault.
It's all a trap. The events haven't even played out, and he's already walked into it, simply by the nature of being who he IS. He doesn't know why the trap is laid. But the moment he walks into that courtroom that day and receives that paper, his days as a lawyer will end in a matter of hours. And what's worse, it'll end in such a way as to throw the innocence of every client he's gotten off before into doubt.
And this time, he'd be doing it knowingly.
His hand reaches up to his lapel, fingering the small badge. He'd been so proud the day he'd received it, had worn it around like a badge of pride all day. This was something he'd worked for, and even if he hadn't really been intending on going much further than speaking to Edgeworth originally, he'd come to appreciate, and even enjoy his job. Saving lives... it was invigorating.
He carefully unpins it and places it on the counter before him, and stares at the image now facing him in the mirror. Its absence is glaring.
He will have to get used to it.
Phoenix puts his head in his hands, and slowly, illogically, continues to fall apart inside.