ataraxionlogs | I hear the train a-comin / It's rollin round the bend [ooopen]

Entry tags:

I hear the train a-comin / It's rollin round the bend [ooopen]

CHARACTERS: Edgeworth and the Murderettes
LOCATION: The brig, yar har
WARNINGS: Edgeworth is an emo asshole
SUMMARY: So Edgeworth is in the brig on his own insistence for a murder he didn't commit. Come make fun of him! Throw things! Pay $2 for a bag of peanuts to feed him!
NOTES: Can happen between the 17th and the 20th. If you can't get him to talk, present: badge.

[Edgeworth doesn't look up when people come to see him. He just keeps looking at his hands, quiet and still; he says little. Still, he hasn't put in a request for no visitors, and he won't; it's less from a desire for company than from a desire for people to be able to see he's getting no special treatment. In the brig, like any other criminal, no matter that he was until recently the one guarding it.

He's in his suit still. He looks exhausted.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Marty slides his lanky arms through the bars and grabs Edgeworth's shoulders, and yeah it's awkward, yeah there's probably some stupid imagery to this shit or whatever, but Marty just has to do it — because it's important to him, if he were in the other man's shoes, and that's enough to motivate him. He pulls the man by the shoulders and, forehead pressed on the bars, hugs him.]

Stop trying to find an ugly name for what you are, because you're doing fine enough, man. And you still got a future that's all yours. You don't need the past to fuck that up for you.

[Society would be laughing their asses off at him right now. Look at that, Marty, trying to be a Mr. Rogers. Trying to do anything good, because look at the guy. Look at how he dresses and acts, look at the pit of his soul, what a fuck-up. But fuck it all if he cares, as long as it means something, in the end.]

So when you get outta this cell, don't let it drag you down.

[Just... don't let it, man.]

[And the self-control he'd constructed for himself crumbles. He shakes with the force of holding back more tears, draws deep and frantic breaths; his hands hook miserably around the bars of the cell, and he swallows once, and twice -

Just...Why? Why is he showing such kindness to him? Edgeworth of a year ago would have thought it was because he wanted to reinforce the evil, self-justifying behaviors Marty himself displayed; Edgeworth of now just struggles with his unhappy, terrible confusion and sorrow. Just - ]

And if I - I don't get out of the cell?

[He pats the guy's back, scoffing. You worry too much about the wrong things, Edgeworth. This entire ship is a prison; you think they're gonna start throwing people like you into individual cells? No way. Marty's just waiting for the 'when' he's free, not the 'if'.]

Worse people've avoided cells, bro.

I believe in you.

It's not -

[He swallows hard, looking down, feeling like crying again.]

I went down there, into his room, to - I wanted to kill him. I went in there with a gun. It isn't - it - It's not logical that I didn't. No one's going to believe me.

[He closes his eyes.]

Except - except you.

[He leans back, one hand squeezing Edgeworth's shoulder, smiling thinly.]

That's just how I roll.

...

What'd he do?

[Marty bets the fucker deserved it. If you wanted him dead. Mr. Follow the Law.]

[There are some he's been obligated to talk to due to their position; there are others whom he's wished to talk to, like Sirius and Josh, because he simply trusts them and needs their reassurance. The rest have been rebuffed when they started digging into this. But Marty -

No; it's not even about his debt of guilt. It's just that...he's already started talking and it's hard to stop.]

He...killed my father.

[He purses his lips. Suddenly, he looks very sure of himself.

He knows what it's like. Wanting to kill the things that tore your little world apart. He's not sure what Edgeworth's relationship with his father was -- hell, Marty didn't have a very impacting one with his own father -- but that didn't matter. If someone killed his dad and he knew where that person was? He'd probably have found them and blasted their heads off, just on principal.

Kind of sad that he sort of killed his mom and dad by way of God, but whatever.

It doesn't hurt nearly as much as it should've.]

... Then you had every right to wanna kill him. That's not something you can just... let go.

[That's what he'd said to himself, wasn't it? There, in front of his locker, as he laid his hand upon the gun, he'd told himself that this was his -

No. That's not right. He hadn't thought it was his right, because it hadn't been something he'd wished to do. He'd thought it was his duty. He'd thought that it was his duty to see that criminals didn't go unpunished; he'd thought that it was his duty, too, to avenge his father. He hadn't thought it was something he could claim, but rather something he had to.

How pathetic. It hadn't been a crime of passion he wanted to commit, after all - just a crime of obligation.]

No, I didn't.

[He lowers his gaze; his voice is quiet.]

No one ever has the right to murder, or even to intend to murder. No matter what happened.

[He's quiet a moment. Then - ]

But I hated him.

[Marty disagrees. Maybe in a perfect world, Edgeworth. But there's so much evil in the world, so much awful that he felt like everyone was practically drowning in it. No... there's plenty of times where someone has the right to murder. Marty will never think otherwise.

But he doesn't say that. It'd do no good to either of them right now, having a battle of morality. He wonders, though, what choice Edgeworth would have made. What would he have done, if faced with the choice: five innocent college kids, or seven billion people?

Yeah, Marty asked himself that before, but it's a choice he's already made. He always let the world burn.]

Can't blame you for that.

I guess now at least he's kicked the bucket, though. You didn't have to go killing him after all, since he did it so well by himself.

[Scoff. He drops his hands, standing in front of the bars, something dark in his eyes.]

You didn't have to get your hands dirty. That's good. You're clean, Edgeworth; you'll get outta here, no problem.

[Edgeworth's gaze is fixed on the ground, and it doesn't rise to meet Marty's. You're clean, he says, and maybe that's true. By rights, Edgeworth should be glad of all of this, shouldn't he? His father's death isn't on his hands. The man who was responsible, dead, and not by Edgeworth's doing. All they need to do is find whoever did do this, bring him to justice, and then Edgeworth can walk free and easy.

But all Edgeworth can think about is the moment in his hospital bed, when he was just nine years old, when the sad-eyed police officer told him Dad was dead, and the moment a year later when he stepped into von Karma's household and thought that now things would be all right. He feels no joy. He doesn't even feel satisfaction. He just feels...alone. Scared.

He wishes they were alive again. Both of them. He wants to press himself into the shadowed corner of the cell, and close his eyes, and when he opens them he wants to be nine again.

He finally speaks, quietly.]

If the true culprit is found. Then I'll get out of here.

[He grins, trying to be supportive. He slides his hands into his pockets and shrugs.]

Hey, of course you are.

You gotta teach me how to be a grand chess master. You're totally not getting out of that.

[Edgeworth nods slowly, quietly, staring fixedly at the floor.]

I...There are others who can teach you as well. If I don't.

[His tone is quiet, but extremely earnest; he really thinks Marty's saying that because he actually wants to play.]

Also, it's - chess grandmaster. That's the term.

[He huffs, looks unimpressed with the alternative.]

See, there's why you're teaching me and not the others.

Besides, we both need the company between horrible things happening. Whether you're a pain in my ass sometimes or not. True facts, Edgeworth; you're stuck with the scrappy weed kid as a friend.

Oh.

[He reaches over to rub self-consciously, perhaps even defensively, at his arm, but his eyes are wide and very sad before he looks down, hiding his face. And he says, with some difficulty:]

I suppose there are...worse fates.

[He smiles.]

Now there's the spirit.

[Edgeworth nods. Then he looks up and says, with enormous difficulty:]

I...Thank you. I don't deserve...support like this.

Hey, man. Me neither.

But it's nice to know you got it whether you deserve it or not, right?

[He looks down, not answering either yes or no. Then, quietly:]

You should probably...get back to your life.

[A nod, as he turns to leave.]

Chin up, Edge.

I'll see you outta here soon.

[Still as sure of that as ever, of course.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I hear the train a-comin / It's rollin round the bend [ooopen]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

it's the backtag tango

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject