ataraxionlogs | who let the dogs out??

CHARACTERS: Miles "Fergie" Edgeworth and will.i.graham
LOCATION: The gardens what keep folks alive
WARNINGS: If you are allergic to dogs stay away
SUMMARY: Dogs meet up for a play-date.
NOTES: Slightly backdated.

[Mr. Graham stated that he has little interest in idle socialization. That should be a comfort, truly, yet for some reason, instead, it just leaves Edgeworth uneasy. Perhaps it's simply that his mentality has been altered by this ship, by the way the passengers occupy themselves through chatter, and he does not fully believe that the man will be content with silence. Perhaps he's nervous that the man will rebuff him as before, with that strange uncomfortable sort of humor. Perhaps he's intimidated by the man's career - because he's not a real prosecutor, never was, and how easy would it be for a member of the F.B.I. to look down on a mere security officer?

Stupid to be nervous.

Pess doesn't sense that. She's as cheerful as she ever is on a walk, prancing into the oxygen garden at the agreed-upon location with energy. She can clearly sense that an adventure is in the offing, and she seems delighted.

Edgeworth, though, just takes her around silently and unsmilingly. He's dressed in dark suit and tie; his manner is clearly standoffish.]

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[ will chuckles softly. ]

I've seen similar things happen — in a couple of those roles. But it's just an idea — broad strokes of motivation that come together to make one single design.

[ if there's anything he's good at, it's extrapolating out a hypothetical situation based on his knowledge of how people work and then speaking on it at length. ]

[And Edgeworth blinks at the sound of that quiet laugh - shifts slightly. Graham seems so...grim, generally speaking; he'll grant he's only been speaking to him a few minutes, but he's been consistently solemn. A show of mirth from him is strangely jarring, like a pale branch grafted onto a dark tree.]

Of course.

[He clears his throat a moment later, his brows gathered together.]

Are there no attempts to curtail this? I should think that few should be glad to see so noble an institution struggling with such base concerns.

There's preventative measures in place. And don't get me wrong, we get a lot of good people, people who just want to do their job the best they can regardless of the money or the commendation.

[ he doesn't speak boastfully — he wouldn't call himself a good person. though he does what he does because he has to, even at the expense of his peace of mind. ]

There are always going to be terrible people in the world.

[ he thinks of hannibal, his perfected outfit on the sheep, his unsettling eyes and clever hands, hands you'd trust with your life. he thinks of jack, pushing for results, pushing. ]

Law enforcement attracts sociopaths pretty regularly. Power attracts sociopaths, really.

But that's hardly -

[He's put up a defense of himself and his profession so many times before that this one that starts to come from his mouth is habitual, practiced, and spirited, just like all the others. Three words in, though, he falters, because he's never really heard that idea expressed before, never heard those words spoken like that. Every time before, when he'd defended his profession, he'd had a weight of knowledge behind him, a firm grasp on the goodness of all the prosecutors he'd studied. He'd had no counterexamples.

But that word, sociopath, is laid side-by-side with his memory of the prosecutor he'd emulated more than any other, and it fits. It fits too well.

He'd never thought of von Karma like that before. Even when he'd sat in holding, he had always been trying to understand what exactly the offense had been that had made his mentor kill his father, why von Karma had shown him such indescribable kindness thereafter, why the man had been so decent and good as to give Miles a home. How he could reconcile the man who had kept so many people safe, put away so many criminals, with the man who would take his dad's life. There had been so many conflicting, difficult strands that Miles couldn't put together, that had tormented him -

What if it's that simple? What if von Karma just went into the law not because he was a good man, but because he wanted power? What if he was just a sociopath?

All these thoughts strike him unbidden, from nowhere; he's stopped speaking, and doesn't resume for too long a time, staring at Graham like he's said something deeply profound - and deeply wrenching, because his expression is lost, miserable, sorrowful. It takes too many moments before he remembers himself; when he does, he looks away sharply, with a harsh jerk of his head.

He must look completely mad.]

That's...hardly - hardly common.

[His counterargument is weak. His voice is weak. He stares down at his feet a moment, then to cover up for his miserable embarrassment, his dizzy confusion, crouches and calls out to his dog, stretching out a hand - ]

Pess, Pess.

[ it's highly possible that the way edgeworth is visibly and suddenly overcome has a lot to do with will's concern for his physical health, later on: such an abruptness of emotion, his face gone pale, body rigid, it could almost be a stroke or a pain or some other illness. ]

[ but he also has the look of a man who has simply suffered a great fright. will isn't... he isn't sure how to handle it. he leaves the young man be. ]

It's more common than you'd think.

[ he murmurs, though will graham's world is riotous with evil, populated nearly wholly by people with minimal ethics or conscience to speak of, both committing crimes and catching them. he thinks of chilton, of freddie lounds. of hannibal. ]

[ but he can actually take social cues, especially ones so plainly spelled out for him, and he takes a few steps away from edgeworth to call his own dog, knowing he might have to chase salem a little. ]

[Pess is - now, like always - a calming presence; it takes a few moments to break away from her play with Salem, but when she does she comes to him and leans sweetly against his knees, after a moment putting her muddy paws up on his thigh in an attempt to lick his chin. He encircles her with his arms; she wriggles in happiness; he lets out a sigh, some of the panic from that monstrous epiphany leaking away from him.

It's a full minute after Graham's last comment that Edgeworth replies.]

Perhaps you're right.

[He doesn't really register how long it's been, how strange and awkward that is. Instead he just scratches behind Pess' ears, staring down at her big doggish smile, and is quiet another moment. Finally:]

I do want to thank you for agreeing to this. She seems much cheered.

Yeah.

[ will's still looking askance at him, but it's not as though he can cast stones in his own glass house of personality deficiencies and awkward pauses. he looks away instead, shifts, and then takes a few steps to call salem. ]

It's been good for them.

[ he drops into a crouch, braces himself for a lap full of wriggling collie. ]

We'll have to do it again sometime.

[Edgeworth nods, working his fingers under Pess' collar. He's relaxed visibly.]

Yes, sir. By your leave, perhaps we might establish something semi-regular?

[ by my leave will mouths to no-one, somewhere between amused and horrified. ]

Sure. Sure.

[ he wonders how offended edgeworth would be if he suggested trading off accompanying them. ]

[Edgeworth's looking down, though, so he misses that expression.]

Very well. I'll contact you regarding an arrangement once I've taken a look at my schedule.

who let the dogs out??

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God I am sorry as hell for this tag

NO DON'T BE

Okay then I'm not

good. .... i think.

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