dream 001 ☄ court is in session
[ Warnings: Talk of murder but nothing too gory. I'll try to keep any Ace Attorney Investigations spoilers out of the comments as well, although the dream itself should be free of them - as long as you don't overthink the dream.
Effects: None. ]
"Objection!" shouted the young woman on the prosecution bench. Her long black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail held by a large, key-shaped hairpin, and similar, smaller keys dangled from her ears. She was clad in a light pink jacket and a dark blue scarf, and on that scarf was a glistening badge. On her sleeve was the emblem of a golden three-legged raven. As she challenged the unseen defense (as the view was focused on this side of the large courtroom), the voice that rang out from her mouth was loud and clear, confident...and possibly familiar.
With one hand she slammed the desk. "So the defendant's fingerprints weren't on the murder weapon. He could have wiped them off!" She shook her head. "In fact...when he was apprehended, he was wearing gloves!"
"Hold it!"
Another voice - the mirror of the woman's - spoke. The view panned to the other side - to the defense bench. To a woman whose raven hair was in a bun, held by two key-shaped hairpins, which were shorter than the prosecutor's. Her pink vest was partly obscured by her navy blazer, and on her lapel was a different badge. She also wore the exact same scarf, with the three-legged raven symbol. Her hand swiftly snatched up a sheet of paper from the desk, and she answered, "If that were true - which it isn't - then there should have been oily smudges found on the pistol! The defendant just came from work..."
"...to murder that girl!" the prosecutor countered.
"Order!" A judge bellowed, the tone obviously male. The slam of a gavel followed, as did another and another - but the judge remained out of sight. "Order in the court! Prosecutor Faraday, if you cannot prove that the murder weapon was in the defendant's possession at the time of the crime, I'm afraid I'll have to penalize you!"
"But what if that wasn't the murder weapon..."
"We already proved that it was the murder weapon!" the defense attorney shot back. Then she gave the other woman a crooked grin. "In fact...it was thanks to you that I proved it. The ballistic markings of the bullets extracted from the victim's heart matched this pistol, remember?"
The prosecutor gritted her teeth and muttered, "No fingerprints...ballistic markings match...couldn't have been the gloves since we found them still dirty and stuff..." She bit her lip as she leafed through her file folder. "Logic...I just gotta go over everything again, just like my teacher always does..."
"We're waiting, Miss Faraday." The judge spoke again, his voice...notably less masculine than before. It was still deep, but it had risen several pitches. Was it impatience? Annoyance?
"I got it!" The woman called Faraday jumped up, nearly falling over. She snapped her fingers. "We gotta have the detective testify again, one more time, about that part about finding the defendant's gloves!"
"But didn't we just hear all we needed to hear about them?" the defense attorney asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms imperiously.
"No, we didn't, because you just had to go in and object before she finished, Miss Faraday!"
At that point, the Miss Faraday sitting at the defense bench gasped, taking one step back. Her eyes - so very much like the prosecutor's - were wide as dinner plates. "What - !"
"Your Honor, I request that Detective Faraday be allowed to testify once more about the gloves!"
Again the judge's voice echoed throughout the courtroom, "Request granted." It seemed to be getting higher and higher whenever he spoke.
"I'm on it!" The detective, clad in a long blue coat and a matching scarf - with, of course, the three-legged raven - started toward the witness stand. She took off her fedora, revealing a head of black hair.
"Something good better come out of this!" said Attorney Faraday, raising an eyebrow and placing one hand on her hip. "Or else the truth will be lost forever!"
"The truth...will we figure it out today, I wonder?"
Though it was only a whisper from the judge, it seemed to reverberate all throughout the halls. And at last, the perspective changed, shifting upward to the person sitting in the judge's chair...an older, seemingly more imposing woman whose black hair was in a much tighter bun than the attorney's. Her robe matched her hair well, and etched on the side of her gavel was that raven. She smiled, a tired yet hopeful smile and looked down at the three women who resembled younger versions of her, standing at their respective positions.
"Now then, Detective Faraday, Prosecutor Faraday and Attorney Faraday..."
[Kay switches on the phone. She is lying in bed and staring up at the Dreamberry she's holding up over her head. Sleepily she addresses her question as she brushes her tousled hair out of her face, out of her widening green eyes.]
...was that what they meant...about showing people's dreams?
Effects: None. ]
"Objection!" shouted the young woman on the prosecution bench. Her long black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail held by a large, key-shaped hairpin, and similar, smaller keys dangled from her ears. She was clad in a light pink jacket and a dark blue scarf, and on that scarf was a glistening badge. On her sleeve was the emblem of a golden three-legged raven. As she challenged the unseen defense (as the view was focused on this side of the large courtroom), the voice that rang out from her mouth was loud and clear, confident...and possibly familiar.
With one hand she slammed the desk. "So the defendant's fingerprints weren't on the murder weapon. He could have wiped them off!" She shook her head. "In fact...when he was apprehended, he was wearing gloves!"
"Hold it!"
Another voice - the mirror of the woman's - spoke. The view panned to the other side - to the defense bench. To a woman whose raven hair was in a bun, held by two key-shaped hairpins, which were shorter than the prosecutor's. Her pink vest was partly obscured by her navy blazer, and on her lapel was a different badge. She also wore the exact same scarf, with the three-legged raven symbol. Her hand swiftly snatched up a sheet of paper from the desk, and she answered, "If that were true - which it isn't - then there should have been oily smudges found on the pistol! The defendant just came from work..."
"...to murder that girl!" the prosecutor countered.
"Order!" A judge bellowed, the tone obviously male. The slam of a gavel followed, as did another and another - but the judge remained out of sight. "Order in the court! Prosecutor Faraday, if you cannot prove that the murder weapon was in the defendant's possession at the time of the crime, I'm afraid I'll have to penalize you!"
"But what if that wasn't the murder weapon..."
"We already proved that it was the murder weapon!" the defense attorney shot back. Then she gave the other woman a crooked grin. "In fact...it was thanks to you that I proved it. The ballistic markings of the bullets extracted from the victim's heart matched this pistol, remember?"
The prosecutor gritted her teeth and muttered, "No fingerprints...ballistic markings match...couldn't have been the gloves since we found them still dirty and stuff..." She bit her lip as she leafed through her file folder. "Logic...I just gotta go over everything again, just like my teacher always does..."
"We're waiting, Miss Faraday." The judge spoke again, his voice...notably less masculine than before. It was still deep, but it had risen several pitches. Was it impatience? Annoyance?
"I got it!" The woman called Faraday jumped up, nearly falling over. She snapped her fingers. "We gotta have the detective testify again, one more time, about that part about finding the defendant's gloves!"
"But didn't we just hear all we needed to hear about them?" the defense attorney asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms imperiously.
"No, we didn't, because you just had to go in and object before she finished, Miss Faraday!"
At that point, the Miss Faraday sitting at the defense bench gasped, taking one step back. Her eyes - so very much like the prosecutor's - were wide as dinner plates. "What - !"
"Your Honor, I request that Detective Faraday be allowed to testify once more about the gloves!"
Again the judge's voice echoed throughout the courtroom, "Request granted." It seemed to be getting higher and higher whenever he spoke.
"I'm on it!" The detective, clad in a long blue coat and a matching scarf - with, of course, the three-legged raven - started toward the witness stand. She took off her fedora, revealing a head of black hair.
"Something good better come out of this!" said Attorney Faraday, raising an eyebrow and placing one hand on her hip. "Or else the truth will be lost forever!"
"The truth...will we figure it out today, I wonder?"
Though it was only a whisper from the judge, it seemed to reverberate all throughout the halls. And at last, the perspective changed, shifting upward to the person sitting in the judge's chair...an older, seemingly more imposing woman whose black hair was in a much tighter bun than the attorney's. Her robe matched her hair well, and etched on the side of her gavel was that raven. She smiled, a tired yet hopeful smile and looked down at the three women who resembled younger versions of her, standing at their respective positions.
"Now then, Detective Faraday, Prosecutor Faraday and Attorney Faraday..."
[Kay switches on the phone. She is lying in bed and staring up at the Dreamberry she's holding up over her head. Sleepily she addresses her question as she brushes her tousled hair out of her face, out of her widening green eyes.]
...was that what they meant...about showing people's dreams?