cantacquityou | [ARCHIVED] IC-inbox

...This is a general post for Paradisa residents, should anyone wish to harass visit or contact Edgeworth ICly. If you are not from Paradisa (I.E., from another game/dressing room, etc), you are welcome to interact with Edgeworth via ~~his Hotel Room~~.

LOLNOPE. Edgey has a new inbox now. Go there.

Room at various angles.

...Because Edgeworth is very well-off, there will be no question that he will request as much from the castle as he can to feel 'at home.' Therefore, his room will be inspired by a room of one of his favourite hotel suites - the Hazlitts in Soho, London. The hotel room is a bit smaller than it appears in the picture, but is extremely richly furnished and decorated. However, with opulence comes a price, as usual, and because of Edgeworth's fastidious tastes, the castle will inflict upon him at least one temporary loss per month. Unbeknownst to Edgeworth, of course.

At any given time, there will be a book or two on the bed, and others placed sporadically at various crevasses within the room. There is another, smaller partition of the room containing a couch, small table, and chair. There are a pair of small speakers, a heated blanket, a small fridge with at least two wine bottles, and a heating apparatus that doesn't emit microwaves. There's also a burgundy/blue chess set. There's no television, no futon, and of course, no Oldbag . There is a black box on the desk that requires not only a key to be opened, but a sliding puzzle to be solved. There's also a medium-sized kitchen. The bathroom is nothing particularly fascinating, as he doesn't spend enough time in there to feel the need to expend too much effort in decorating it, and it is much smaller than one may expect after seeing the room. There is, however, a clean bathtub lined with a few red/gold, unused candles.

See the chess piece? Definitely Edgeworth's room.

The kitchen is similar to this, but quite smaller:

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: Hotel Room

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I could say the same thing about you.

[This little jab is presented lovingly, really; he has no intention of starting any arguments today, and he's really trying to be on his best behavior. He steals a glance at Edgeworth.]

Good job with that puzzle you sent me by way of Sunflower. I had to ask for some help! [A laugh.] It's really a thrill, you know? Figuring things out.

[Mentally he's practically screaming, yearning to just come right out and ask Edgeworth 'can we be together, please?'

But, just like any courtroom battle, this is a precarious dance, and he has to move with caution.]

Tch. I am disappointed, Phoenix... I had hoped you'd figure...certain things out on your own.

To be fair, I more or less did.

[He stifles another chuckle at the thought of Wheatley and Kirby flailing over the cards.]

But Kirby's input was a little bit useful. He, ah... he also drew a picture of me and you.

...K-...Kirby?

...Kirby?

Yeah, he seemed to know you. Little round pink Kirby?

[He has the picture in his pants pocket right now, but he's hesitant to show it.]

Yes, I know him ...quite well. However...[He begins to chuckle.}

...Kirby, Phoenix? Out of all... [he rubs at his face, chuckling more.]...out of all people you could have asked, you solicited help from Kirby..?

[...and with his face buried in his hands, he begins to laugh.]

Well... Kirby and Wheatley... h-hey!!

[He playfully shoves the other man.]

Don't sit there and laugh at me! I didn't want to ask Maya in case--

[And the playfulness falters for a moment. In case there was something incriminating in the message she shouldn't see?]

--you know, she's always so busy.

True. [He chuckles some more.] So, what did he say? Ah, let me guess...

"Poyo"?

[A mock gasp.]

How did you ever know? It's like you were there!

[And he shrugs, decides it can't hurt as long as he's nonchalant enough about it, and pulls the drawing from his pants pocket to show to Edgeworth.]

First he helped me notice a clue for putting those cards of yours in order, and then he drew this.

[This is his innocent face.]

((This comment and this one for Kirby's drawing.))

[His eyes promptly widen upon seeing the drawing. He slowly reaches out to take it...]

Kir--...

...Kirby ...drew this?

Yep, sure did.

I think he captured your essence well. Your... pink... essence.

[He gazes upon the picture for several seconds...silently.]

[He, in turn, watches Edgeworth closely.]

...you okay, Miles?

. . .

Yes...

...I like it.

[Is that the slightest little smile he detects? Regardless, Phoenix is beaming enough for a handful of people.]

Yeah? ...so do I!

I'd say it deserves a frame.

You could always hang it on your fridge.

[Even in the best of circumstances, Miles Edgeworth is a difficult man to read, and Phoenix is having a time of it now. Where he himself is almost painfully obvious, Edgeworth's words and actions all seem to Phoenix to be carefully selected so as not to give away his position on any of the real, underlying issue--if it can even be called an "issue"--behind their meeting. Then again, he supposes it could just be that this is a matter of emotion... apparently the only matter with which Edgeworth is unskilled.

As Phoenix looks at Edgeworth, vaguely smiling there still in the grass, longing spreads rapidly through his bones and blood and skin; it aches dully in the pit of his stomach, in his arms, in his throat where his pulse is beating rapidly despite his outer presentation of calmness. Rather than something lustful and physical, in actuality it's a simple need for some kind of sign or spoken word that his deep and terrible fondness for this man isn't going to end in destruction. It's been a long time since he's felt this strongly about someone else, and whether he admits it to himself or not, he's been burned. It's the scar tissue left from that burn (and the scabs of more recent cuts) that keep him from acting on the desperate want to soak in as much of Miles Edgeworth as humanly possible.

And it's all hidden behind the best poker face he can muster. It's still in-training and not nearly the mask he might unknowingly garner some years down the road, but it's a start. Only his prominent blush and sweaty palms belie the truth that he's no longer afraid of mentally admitting.]

So... can I ask what made you finally decide to get in touch with me again?

Ah, yes.

[He fishes out a rather thick, blue envelope - a size and stock generally reserved for greeting cards -concealed within an inner pocket in his shirt. On the envelope, written stylistically, is 'Phoenix Wright.'

He hands it to Phoenix.]

This. Please read it later, when you have time. It's rather lengthy.

Ah.

[He looks at the letter, dismay seeping into the cracks in his careful shell.

If it was good news, wouldn't it be delivered verbally?

This is probably a polite let-down.

At least... it'll be polite.]

...yeah, I'll do that.

[He sets the envelope aside, shuts his eyes a moment and tries to focus on the breeze.]

[...A resounding NOPE. Hell, 'good news' would be even harder for Edgeworth to express verbally.

...Perhaps it's the whole point fo the letter. Just...perhaps.

Edgeworth gazes at him silently for several seconds before speaking. He chuckles softly.]

...My, I had imagined that a letter I've spent a month pouring my heart into would be a bit better received...

I'm just nervous about reading it.

[Eyes still shut, he's speaking as if to the clouds. Might as well be honest.]

But I'm glad... I'm glad you gave it to me. I kind of want to run off and read it right now.

[And he opens his eyes again and looks back at Edgeworth, smirking.]

It's like waiting for a letter back from a college application, or something.