Phoenix Wright (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wright_idea) wrote2008-04-15 11:43 pm
wright_idea) wrote2008-04-15 11:43 pm
Venting ((AJ SPOILERS, AS USUAL))
Phoenix is not a violent man by nature, but lately he's been turning more and more to the boxing equipment found in the Sanctuary's Arena, and making good use of it.
For example, as he is doing now. Two gloves, one bag. His form is lousy; he's not a fighter. But being able to beat up on something right now feels good. After all, it seems like he has no other way to vent his frustration.
And he's got a lot to be frustrated about.
He's frustrated that, just when he was finally figuring things out, his career was going to end in the worst way imaginable, and there was no way he could think of to avoid it that didn't have the potential to make things worse for everybody around him. He's frustrated that a man he'd never met before a month earlier had managed to push him into a corner so effectively, and all without barely lifting a finger.
He's frustrated that the same man is getting everything HE wants -- an escape from prison and the death sentence, a kid who seems to dote on him for reasons Phoenix could not possibly comprehend. To see the man he hates for reasons Phoenix cannot fathom crumble to pieces.
Thwap. Thwap. He continues to hit the bag, channeling all his rage, his frustration into each blow. He hardly notices the burning in his arms, the heavy breathing, the weariness. All he feels is the bag against his fist, the urge to hurt SOMETHING, even if it's just an inanimate object.
It wasn't supposed to end like this.
For example, as he is doing now. Two gloves, one bag. His form is lousy; he's not a fighter. But being able to beat up on something right now feels good. After all, it seems like he has no other way to vent his frustration.
And he's got a lot to be frustrated about.
He's frustrated that, just when he was finally figuring things out, his career was going to end in the worst way imaginable, and there was no way he could think of to avoid it that didn't have the potential to make things worse for everybody around him. He's frustrated that a man he'd never met before a month earlier had managed to push him into a corner so effectively, and all without barely lifting a finger.
He's frustrated that the same man is getting everything HE wants -- an escape from prison and the death sentence, a kid who seems to dote on him for reasons Phoenix could not possibly comprehend. To see the man he hates for reasons Phoenix cannot fathom crumble to pieces.
Thwap. Thwap. He continues to hit the bag, channeling all his rage, his frustration into each blow. He hardly notices the burning in his arms, the heavy breathing, the weariness. All he feels is the bag against his fist, the urge to hurt SOMETHING, even if it's just an inanimate object.
It wasn't supposed to end like this.