Lovestruck Romeo, sings the streets a serenade
Who: cheapblusuits and smilegonnakillu , as well as miniworth and justicepuns being the best ninjas ever.
Where: Smack dab in the middle on Route 30/31, but slowly progresses towards Violet City. Probably.
When: November 9th, in the early evening (5:00 or so?)
Summary: After sneaking out of Violet four days ago (namely, on the 5th) with only his bag, two of his Pokémon and the clothes on his back, Phoenix Wright finally meets Dahlia Hawthorne face to face. Be prepared for a lot of wibbling, manipulation, and dramatic irony. Miles and Apollo have also followed him from Violet, as well, but neither Phoenix nor Dahlia are aware of this.
Rating: PGish. Depends on how sick you feel reading Dahlia's posts, mmkay. ALSO UH, SPOILERS FOR THE FIRST CASE OF TRIAL AND TRIBULATIONS.
Log:
The feeling wasnt unlike what one would feel when they're about to embark on their first date.
Phoenix had a feeling this was probably NOT a good thing; he was 25, not 15, and it wasn't as if he should be excited about this. Which he wasn't, just...nervous. Incredibly nervous. And scared.
He hadn't told anybody he was leaving. There was a flash of guilt and he sighed, digging his hands into his pockets and continuing to trudge forward across the grass, thinking back to his friends that were probably worried sick about him back in the city. Larry, Edgeworth, Trucy, Maya...but he knew that, if he'd breathed a word of what he was planning to any of them, they would have stopped him in his tracks. You can't do this, they would have said. This is stupid. You can't do this alone.
...they were probably right.
He hadn't seen Dahlia in four years. When she'd been arrested, he'd been too much of a wreck to attend her seperate trial -- and, afterwards, he'd been too much of a coward to visit her in jail. What if she'd been lonely, he thought, glancing up at the sky that was being lightly tinted by the beginnings of evening, a trickling orange bleeding out over his head. What if she'd been lonely?
Maybe he was trying to prove something, setting off on his own like this. He'd been told so many times that what had happened all those years ago wasn't his fault, but just because people said it...didn't make it true. He felt guilty for not protecting her enough, even if she had been in the fault. He felt guilty for not visiting her in the four years since, and felt guilty for trying to forget when he wasn' even completely gone yet. And more than anything, he felt guilty for whatever he did that had made Dahlia hate him.
Even if it was the fact that he'd done nothing that had made her hate him.
...it was all very confusing, and Phoenix didn't want to get a thobbing headache right before he met up with his ex-girlfriend. Pausing at their meeting spot -- a large, low-branched tree smack dab in the middle of the route -- he gestured for his two companions to come to him.
He'd decided to only bring Butch and Pidge on his trip. If something...did end up happening, something that made his stomach churn and his hands sweat with fear and unease, he would need someone to send the message back to Violet. Hence, the Pidgeotto. And Butch...well, he was Butch. The Quagsire could never be persuaded to stay behind, and so come he had. Phoenix had appreciated the company, too.
"Alright, you two." He kneeled down so that he was eye level with Butch, who had paused next to him and was looking up at his trainer with a quizzical expression. Pidge, who had swooped down with a loud "Piii!" when he'd called, hovered near Butch's head, also tilting her head as if to ask him a question. "Pidge, I want you to stay hidden. I--no, don't give me that look, I told you this before we left -- I need you to be able to fly back to Violet and warn the others if..." He dwindled into brooding silence, apprehension beginning to make his hands shake -- but Phoenix quickly shook it off and turned to Butch, after Pidge's objectionable squawks had tapered into resentful consent.
"Butch, just...stick close to me, alright?" He rubbed the Quagsire's head affectionately, and recieved a fond "Quaa!" in return. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"Qua quagsire. Si sire."
"Good to hear." Another grin.
...slowly, he straightened up, gesturing for Pidge to go into hiding as he leaned back against the tree, his loyal starter taking up a laxidasial position next to him. After a flurry of feathers and several loud chirps, the Pidgeotto was nowhere to be seen, and...it was quiet. But for the incessant backgroud music, that is.
And Phoenix waited.
[ooc; What is verbose. AHAHA. S-sorry I talk too much. And apologies for typos, I suck at proofreading my own shit.]
Where: Smack dab in the middle on Route 30/31, but slowly progresses towards Violet City. Probably.
When: November 9th, in the early evening (5:00 or so?)
Summary: After sneaking out of Violet four days ago (namely, on the 5th) with only his bag, two of his Pokémon and the clothes on his back, Phoenix Wright finally meets Dahlia Hawthorne face to face. Be prepared for a lot of wibbling, manipulation, and dramatic irony. Miles and Apollo have also followed him from Violet, as well, but neither Phoenix nor Dahlia are aware of this.
Rating: PGish. Depends on how sick you feel reading Dahlia's posts, mmkay. ALSO UH, SPOILERS FOR THE FIRST CASE OF TRIAL AND TRIBULATIONS.
Log:
The feeling wasnt unlike what one would feel when they're about to embark on their first date.
Phoenix had a feeling this was probably NOT a good thing; he was 25, not 15, and it wasn't as if he should be excited about this. Which he wasn't, just...nervous. Incredibly nervous. And scared.
He hadn't told anybody he was leaving. There was a flash of guilt and he sighed, digging his hands into his pockets and continuing to trudge forward across the grass, thinking back to his friends that were probably worried sick about him back in the city. Larry, Edgeworth, Trucy, Maya...but he knew that, if he'd breathed a word of what he was planning to any of them, they would have stopped him in his tracks. You can't do this, they would have said. This is stupid. You can't do this alone.
...they were probably right.
He hadn't seen Dahlia in four years. When she'd been arrested, he'd been too much of a wreck to attend her seperate trial -- and, afterwards, he'd been too much of a coward to visit her in jail. What if she'd been lonely, he thought, glancing up at the sky that was being lightly tinted by the beginnings of evening, a trickling orange bleeding out over his head. What if she'd been lonely?
Maybe he was trying to prove something, setting off on his own like this. He'd been told so many times that what had happened all those years ago wasn't his fault, but just because people said it...didn't make it true. He felt guilty for not protecting her enough, even if she had been in the fault. He felt guilty for not visiting her in the four years since, and felt guilty for trying to forget when he wasn' even completely gone yet. And more than anything, he felt guilty for whatever he did that had made Dahlia hate him.
Even if it was the fact that he'd done nothing that had made her hate him.
...it was all very confusing, and Phoenix didn't want to get a thobbing headache right before he met up with his ex-girlfriend. Pausing at their meeting spot -- a large, low-branched tree smack dab in the middle of the route -- he gestured for his two companions to come to him.
He'd decided to only bring Butch and Pidge on his trip. If something...did end up happening, something that made his stomach churn and his hands sweat with fear and unease, he would need someone to send the message back to Violet. Hence, the Pidgeotto. And Butch...well, he was Butch. The Quagsire could never be persuaded to stay behind, and so come he had. Phoenix had appreciated the company, too.
"Alright, you two." He kneeled down so that he was eye level with Butch, who had paused next to him and was looking up at his trainer with a quizzical expression. Pidge, who had swooped down with a loud "Piii!" when he'd called, hovered near Butch's head, also tilting her head as if to ask him a question. "Pidge, I want you to stay hidden. I--no, don't give me that look, I told you this before we left -- I need you to be able to fly back to Violet and warn the others if..." He dwindled into brooding silence, apprehension beginning to make his hands shake -- but Phoenix quickly shook it off and turned to Butch, after Pidge's objectionable squawks had tapered into resentful consent.
"Butch, just...stick close to me, alright?" He rubbed the Quagsire's head affectionately, and recieved a fond "Quaa!" in return. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"Qua quagsire. Si sire."
"Good to hear." Another grin.
...slowly, he straightened up, gesturing for Pidge to go into hiding as he leaned back against the tree, his loyal starter taking up a laxidasial position next to him. After a flurry of feathers and several loud chirps, the Pidgeotto was nowhere to be seen, and...it was quiet. But for the incessant backgroud music, that is.
And Phoenix waited.
[ooc; What is verbose. AHAHA. S-sorry I talk too much. And apologies for typos, I suck at proofreading my own shit.]