They say sibling rivalry shows affection [CLOSED]

[hunter_perfect]

Characters: Franziska, Miles, and maybe Manfred will show up.
Content: Miles crashes at the Estate after his (failed) hunt. Franziska wakes him up.
Setting: One of the many guest bedrooms.
Time: The morning after; Miles has been bandaged.
Warnings: Bickering, probable pain to all parties involved.

Comments

[worth_noting]

Edgeworth had, despite all odds, achieved the impossible: a decent night's rest. At first his sleep was restless (as it usually was), and he found himself drifting off only to wake up moments later with a blinding pain in his side. It was a nice reminder of his failure, if there ever was one. Finally, though, after hours of false starts, after accidentally tossing and turning over his injuries, exhaustion took over. He began to drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep, and became completely dead to the world around him.

At least, until he was rudely awakened by a sharp burning jab near his ribs. Edgeworth's eyes snapped open, and he let out a howl of pain as he rolled away from the source of his torment. Before he knew it, he was thoroughly tangled in the sheets, and he tumbling over the edge of the bed. "Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, as he fell to the floor. Edgeworth let out a low groan (fantastic, this is just what he needed: hard objects - such as the wooden panels on the floor - colliding with his ribcage) and began to

[hunter_perfect]

Franziska's eyes widened as she saw the clumsy bandaging over Miles' face. That must have been an unexpectedly close call, not to mention the reaction she'd gotten from prodding his side and the general paleness of his visage. Her look softened slightly (she stopped frowning, and now only glared). "What happened? Did you at least kill it?"

Drat, her leg was twinging again. Franziska shifted to the other side of her body and crossed her arms beneath her chest.

[worth_noting]

Did he kill it? What was she-oh, it. That damnable werepanther. Edgeworth's face darkened, and his memory reacquainted itself with last night's disaster.

"No," he muttered, as he glowered at the comforter. He took a deep breath, and winced immediately when he felt his ribs move. "No," he repeated, his voice louder this time. "Unfortunately, the creature managed to slip away." It wasn't the complete truth, but Edgeworth didn't want to deal with Franziska's lectures right now. And if she nagged him for more details, well, he'd take great care to tell her that the beast hardly escaped unscathed.

Edgeworth took a break from his self pity, and glanced over at Franziska. Strange, she seemed to be favoring one leg over the other... He raised an eyebrow, and asked, "And what were you up to last night?"

[hunter_perfect]

Franziska's frown returned full-force. Foolish man and his redundant, topic-changing questions. She ignored him, but snapped a bit more than intended. "I have doubts that a creature capable of causing that much damage to you, dear brother, managed to just slip away."

She frowned again, this time at herself more than her foolish sibling. It was...irritating how utterly worri- concerned she became when Miles returned home injured. And that just irritated her more. Gott, she could feel her brows furrowing already.

Scoffing, Franziska walked around to stand before Miles. "And did the were take your sense as well as your precious little crossbow?" She grabbed his chin with a gloved hand and twisted it up and sideways to better examine the distressingly shoddy bandages over Miles' face. "Your dressings are sloppy, fool. They're likely to get infected at this rate."

[worth_noting]

Edgeworth glared at her while she lectured, before he shoved her hand aside. Honestly, they weren't children anymore. There was no need for her co-nagging.

"I'll get them changed soon," he said as he looked away from Franziska. His voice was brusque, his eyes were half shut, and his nose was upturned. "And you still didn't answer my question, by the way." His voice quieted (the last thing they needed was staff - or, god forbid, von Karma - overhearing their argument), and he asked, "Where were you last night?" Edgeworth gave her a sidelong glance, and waited for her response.

[hunter_perfect]

More than a bit perturbed at Miles' prickly attitude, Franziska hmrphed a bit and drew her hand back. She felt her leg throb again at her brother's question and this time her ribs joined in as well, causing her fists to clench somewhat on her crossed arms.

"Patrolling. As usual." She resisted the urge to break eye contact with Miles, but her mouth twisted at the effort. "You hardly need to ask."

[worth_noting]

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow at Franziska, but said nothing. Even when a hunt went well, injuries were par for the course. It's something they both learned years ago, ever since they were children, and a cold fact they should be used to by now. All in all, she looked like she was doing well enough.

"And what did you find?" he asked. Not 'did you find anything'; she wouldn't be favoring her leg like that if she there was nothing out there, nor would she be so 'pleasant'.

[hunter_perfect]

"A werejackal, whose days are most certainly numbered." Franziska snapped a bit, but kept her voice low. It wouldn't do to have Papa pay them a visit.

...curses, she'd just said the creature had escaped (though no in so many words). No doubt Miles would catch onto that and proceed to press for details. Damnable man. Scowling brilliantly, Franziska turned and sat delicately on the bed, as far away from her brother as she could get. Her whip would have been nice right then, she thought, just for something to hold onto.

[worth_noting]

Edgeworth turned towards her, and watched her sulk form. Even though her body was more or less unharmed, her pride came back bruised and bloodied. It wasn't just an escape on the werejackal's part, it was a humiliation. A failure.

"And what stopped you from finishing it off?" His voice wasn't harsh, nor was it gentle; it was completely neutral, detached, and almost professional.

[hunter_perfect]

"The cowardly creature turned tail and ran as soon as I was down." It was easier to speak when she didn't have to look at him or see pity in eyes, imagined or not. At least he had the sense and good grace to keep his voice neutral and stay where he sat.

If there was one thing Franziska could count on her brother for (and there were numerous things), primarily was his tact and detachment.

Still, she snarled and punched the bed frame in rage, more at herself than at Miles. "I will have his hide on my wall by next moon, mark my words." Franziska's head snapped to the side and she glared at her brother. "And you would do well to have a complementary blue one on yours soon. Papa is not pleased."