If the experience of being rerouted from one hallway to another were a bit more like discovering secret passageways, that would be nice. Sirius thinks this for perhaps the hundredth time today. Fiftieth time with the last hour alone.
"Secret passageways don't do this to you," he tells Edgeworth. On patrol together, they have found themselves suddenly very much elsewhere. As if wandering around corridors with emergency lighting wasn't irritating enough, now the hallways are doing this little party trick again. Next thing they know, the room is going to be three times its size and filled with radioactive rats. Brunhilda could have a new friend.
In actuality, the room is filled with things, but none of them are rats, and none of them are people. It's only Sirius and Edgeworth, and a lot of sciencey equipment and things that Sirius doesn't recognise. Not that that's any surprise. Sirius touches his fingertips against a glass dish that's stood on a table, and tips it toward himself, examining the contents.
"Secret passageways always lead you somewhere worthwhile. And where the hell are we? Not to mention that they're actually amusing--whereas this is just the same old, same old."
With a weird edge. Something is playing at the very peripheral of Sirius' senses, but it's much easier to be flippant and dismissive and have seen it all, when really he hasn't seen it all. He's not even seen it all in this room (dungeon? laboratory?), and he glances down along a row of tables toward the wall. The red and muddy swirls of a mural are back there, and with faint amusement, Sirius wander over to give it a once-over.
"We could just stay here and skip the rest of patrolling," he calls over his shoulder, and waits, with a grin, to hear Edgeworth's sharp protest. It will come in five, four, three, two--
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"Secret passageways don't do this to you," he tells Edgeworth. On patrol together, they have found themselves suddenly very much elsewhere. As if wandering around corridors with emergency lighting wasn't irritating enough, now the hallways are doing this little party trick again. Next thing they know, the room is going to be three times its size and filled with radioactive rats. Brunhilda could have a new friend.
In actuality, the room is filled with things, but none of them are rats, and none of them are people. It's only Sirius and Edgeworth, and a lot of sciencey equipment and things that Sirius doesn't recognise. Not that that's any surprise. Sirius touches his fingertips against a glass dish that's stood on a table, and tips it toward himself, examining the contents.
"Secret passageways always lead you somewhere worthwhile. And where the hell are we? Not to mention that they're actually amusing--whereas this is just the same old, same old."
With a weird edge. Something is playing at the very peripheral of Sirius' senses, but it's much easier to be flippant and dismissive and have seen it all, when really he hasn't seen it all. He's not even seen it all in this room (dungeon? laboratory?), and he glances down along a row of tables toward the wall. The red and muddy swirls of a mural are back there, and with faint amusement, Sirius wander over to give it a once-over.
"We could just stay here and skip the rest of patrolling," he calls over his shoulder, and waits, with a grin, to hear Edgeworth's sharp protest. It will come in five, four, three, two--