infomodder | IC contact [Mask or Menace]

Will do. I'll be out front.

[He figures that should be enough and hangs up. Miles will find himself with a bare address as quickly as his fingers could get it out, just to prove that he wasn't being a lying piece of shit about it all. Directions come in roughly a minute later, and Will will, in fact, be out front. Him sitting on cheap plastic chair just by the door and a bearded blunder of a dog curled up underneath it. It's very clear Will was either in bed or ready for it, wearing only an undershirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants, pulled on for decency's sake. If the door has a light above it, it's not obvious. Will can see in the dark, has no reason to turn it on just yet. If Miles finds him when a car or something with a flashing light goes by, he might get to see it in action, Will's eyes and his dog's eyes doing that shine thing.

But it's just Will and his dog, who keeps getting nudged with one foot for continually licking the same spot on his paw. FBI's best.]

[And here comes Edgeworth, riding in on his glorious, shining... vespa. Hey, it was free, alright? He slows down, looking for the address, or a house, or- or anything, really. He frowns, wondering if he was given the right address, when his headlight shines on Graham's house. It startles him, seeing two pairs of eyes shine like that, when he remembers: Graham said he could see in the dark, didn't he? So he pulls over, a bit clumsily, and jumps off his scooter and onto the grass.]

Graham?

[He strides over, dressed in his usual casual outfit: a pink oxford, khaki slacks, and a wornout satchel bursting to the brim with books, notebooks and other writing essentials]

[Fear not, April took a vespa as well. There is no room for Will to judge who else took one, especially when Edgeworth's isn't the tacky abomination April picked out. Will is completely unperturbed by the light in his eyes, doesn't lift a hand to "shade" them, simply watches Edgeworth pull up and stops pestering his dumb dog. Will doesn't look like much right now, but he's without any lingering scent of alcohol or the former day. He managed a shower and good brushing of teeth and all that mess before Edgeworth called, go team.

It takes both hands on the armrests to help him out of the chair, what could easily be taken as tiredness. Laziness. A leg that was asleep. Some achy bones. Plenty of assumptions to come to other than what it really is, but at least he puts forth that effort to get up on his own feet, stand and...realize that Edgeworth might actually appreciate a source of light. So after a moment where he lifts his eyebrows and looks ready to speak, he abruptly turns back to open the door, reach in, flounder with the wall, and turn on the overhead light.]

You got it. [He says once that's taken care of, shutting the door and crossing his arms over his chest in less of a defensive movement and more of not having anything to do with them other than dangle loosely at his sides. His eyes go all sorts of places, physically, need a moment to fully settle, but Will's as on point otherwise. Wave the bloody cloth under his nose, watch him go bolting into the night to find the culprit. Good dog.] So...what did you need to show me?

[For someone who could have easily been woken from a nice, needed sleep for this, he's not actually aggravated. Curious, civil. Nothing accusatory or regretful to be found.

Although maybe Edgeworth's outfit is worth a regret a two; Will can't judge on that matter, either. Better look elsewhere for fashion snobbery.]

Edited 2015-02-02 01:31 (UTC)

[When Edgeworth approaches Will, his pace is quick, his back is straight, and his voice is firm. It's not hostile, no, but it's the stance of someone expecting a fight. Will's calm demeanor, though, deflates him, makes him hesitate for a moment, before he clears his throat]

I have a conversation to show you.

[He speaks quickly, his posture still tense.]

...but not out here. It would be better to show you inside.

[That gives Will some pause. He picks up on words, picks up on how Edgeworth demands to relocate and then eases the pressure of that demand without difficulty, which isn't something Will appreciates. He lives with someone else. The two of them are entertaining a very important guest for the time being. If this was general government housing or a place for Will and Will alone, he wouldn't have a problem with it. April and Abigail have no need to get dragged into whatever the hell this is, and that's what has his crossed arms turning defensive, his jaw tightening.

Still...he did beat a man to death with his own hands without any problem, and April's powers are far more effective in a fight than his. They'll be fine.]

Hope you don't have any animal allergies. [Is all he has to say as he turns, opening the door and tsking at the dog under the chair. He seems to know what that means, gets off his belly and goes running in the moment there's enough room for him to fit. Edgeworth might note that the place hasn't been lived in too long, as much as he'll note they're renovating, adding walkways along the top of the hallways, near the ceiling. Walkways for raccoons, cats, whatever else joins their animal menagerie and decides it wants to play with everyone else. Will does not give a single shit if Edgeworth finds it less than ideal; he came over for whatever reason, he came to Will, Will didn't call him up and invite him without daring to take a few minutes to tidy up. But Will's not keen on a tour. He lets Edgeworth in, follows, shuts the door, turns the deadbolt, flicks off the outdoor light while turning the inner one on, and takes his stand in the same spot a welcome mat might belong.] Better?

[Done being theatrical?]

Edited 2015-02-02 03:33 (UTC)

[Edgeworth notices the change in Will's posture, watching how his arms tense up and the way his jaw tighten, and he doesn't move a single inch. Instead he continues to watch him, waiting for an answer, preparing not to back down.

Will, thankfully, gives in to the request. Edgeworth doesn't reply to his warning and simply follows him inside, his eyes drawn in to the house's strange renovations and additions. He takes a break from his current train of thought to note how odd it all looks, but once Will turns on the light, this tangent is forgotten and Edgeworth straightens up, facing him once more.

And Will. Oh, Will. Edgeworth is never done being theatrical.]

Here.

[Not wasting any time, Edgeworth opens his satchel and rummages through for his device, working quickly to open up the conversation he had earlier that evening. Once he's done, he practically shoves the damn thing in Will's hands, expecting him to look at it.

[He is really really tired (fed up, even!) of everything being theatrical. It's old hat at this point, and Will watches the rummaging with less interest than he actually has. Don't encourage the theatrical, maybe it will learn and back off with its dramatics. Will even manages to wait a second before he grabs that communicator up, no matter how much it's shoved into his hands. He still has to grip, to accept, to choose, and Will Graham isn't the easiest dog to train, by his design.

At first, he doesn't seem too impressed with what he's been handed, by the approach Miles takes. Granted, one of these two is more his friend than the other, but that all washes away when he comes across Yuri confessing, or what may as well serve in its stead.

The cold shiver of betrayal slams up his spine, again, and he's completely unaware of his lips mouthing the word "no" as he presses on, reads Edgeworth asking if he's being taunted while, in Will's opinion, he taunts right back. There's something more personal about this than just Yuri and Will having been friends, or close to it. It's all over his face.]

Where is she? [Quiet, Will looks up from the communicator and slowly hands it over. There is no shove. No demand Edgeworth take it back. Will is remarkably tenser, though his fingers hold it loosely. Tension is reserved for squared shoulders, a dry throat, a paling face.] Somewhere safe?

Xavier's.

[Spoken automatically, spitting the word out like a cannonball. Edgeworth remains as tense as ever, as still as ever, save for a slight trembling of his hands before he thinks to take his device back. He snatches it away, gripping it so tight his knuckles turn white, and shoves it back in his bag. However, he doesn't look back at Will afterward, and instead takes one long, shuddering breath as he adjusts the straps]

She'll be staying at Xavier's for the time being.

[There are no "I told you so's", though they may come in the near future. In fact, they probably will. But for now, he does not brag. He does not declare how he was right and how Will was wrong, doesn't try to rub his face in it. For now, Kay's safety is paramount.]

Edited 2015-02-02 05:03 (UTC)

[Good thing there are no "I told you so"s as Will isn't a doormat, nor does he find this the time for bickering. There are a few more important things going on at the moment other than Miles Edgeworth and Will Graham's issues. No need to go after the lowest blow with someone who's already had his gut compromised in more ways than one.]

And what about you?

[A hand goes to his side, the other pulling away to run through his hair as he looks off at a cage with two hamsters enjoying their nocturnal playtime. Trying to be casual about this...Miles Edgeworth might have a flair for the theatrical, but he doesn't strike Will, right now, as wanting to have his needs brought to light as if they're of equal importance to Kay's. To be mentioned in the face of Kay becoming a target. But it does need to come up, and Will figures whatever he can do to make it seem less of a deal than Kay's situation, the better.]

You got somewhere to stay for the time being?

[Do you know where to go from here?]

[Edgeworth looks up and blinks, taken aback by the question. While he normally goes through life with a plan, always thinking two steps ahead, he hadn't thought that far ahead yet. The threat towards Kay made him forget the peril he faces, and his desperation to get to Will, to show him his proof, made him forget that he was not, in fact, invincible. His powers had something to do with it, too, his resilience giving him false confidence, but the question reminds him that there's a world of difference between healing a scratch and rebuilding himself from flames and ash.]

...No.

[He looks away, suddenly noticing the same hamster cage that Will has his eyes on, and quickly adds:]

Not yet.

[He knows that he doesn't have a plan, knows that he's flying blind, but he's too proud to admit it out loud]

[Those freaking hamsters, so blissfully unaware of a world outside the one where they are coddled and adored by humans, where their larger raccoon brethren see to their needs if no one else is immediately available, are having a hell of time. They're the most delighted things around, currently. Will scratches the back of his head while his other hand slides up his hip, a mess but a thoughtful one. He already extended the same number and name to Kay that he'd extend to anyone from Baltimore should a certain someone pop back up, but if she's been shuffled off to Xavier's and no one has given him a call about it, he assumes she didn't use it.]

Does he know where you live? Have you ever made it obvious over the Network? [Did Will stumble across a conversation wherein Edgeworth made that much obvious? He's not sure. He's trying to run through his Rolodex of Network conversations, made foggier and less compliant by the situation, by Yuri being...not who Will had believed to be. He turns on his heel, figures it's not the worst idea to give Edgeworth a moment to sit in the midst of chaos, and follows those questions up with another, immediately:] Want some coffee?

[That would be an invitation to meander into the kitchen right after him, which is a Pretty Big Damn Deal. Will doesn't make it to be that, shoves away that idea entirely, plays it cool, casual, his voice less of that throaty grumble. Shit. Who cares how late it is, he's going to have the strongest coffee in the house and no one can stop him. Even if Edgeworth doesn't want coffee, there is...something...somewhere...he can graze on if he needs it.

Office hours are for patients. My kitchen is always open to friends.

N o p e.

But Will's kitchen is apparently open to Edgeworth, right now, regardless of whatever "I told you so"s can be tossed around. It's only polite. No one, even those humans who like to think of themselves as gods, is invincible.]

No, I-

[There's too many questions to think straight. There's only two (three, technically, but two at their core), but it's still too many questions. Edgeworth holds up a hand, as if that will put the conversation on pause, and shakes his head]

...no coffee, thank you. And-

[He frowns, the lines around his mouth tightening while his eyes narrow, and quickly crosses his arms]

I didn't exactly hand out my address. [And his tone darkens, his voice and his expression growing harsh as he revisits old memories] But he met me twice in Heropa, once as Lunatic and once as Petrov. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that I live there.

[Well, that's both good and bad. And while Will might be more inclined to focus on the bad than the good, it's not very difficult for him to imagine what sort of inner turmoil Edgeworth must be dealing with at the moment. So he pulls the grinds out of the fridge and tosses out one hand as he verbally tosses out the good first.]

There is a large imPort population in Heropa. [A simple fact, delivered without any mockery, nothing in his voice that could be misconstrued as petty. Just another day at the office, though it's cozier, there is coffee, he's in his own little domain.] You have the idea of safety in numbers, consider it some sort of herd immunity. If his only starting point is that you live in Heropa, he's got his work cut out for him should he... [Grinds in place, water already there, Will turns the pot to on and turns to Edgeworth. For all intents and purposes, this? Not an out of place conversation in Will Graham's world. It's...easy, for him. This isn't the first time he's had a similar discussion in the middle of the night. Middle of the morning. An otherwise "inappropriate" time.] ...attempt anything.

[Will doesn't seem to be on board with the idea that Lunatic would come after Edgeworth, that isn't difficult to pick up on. But he knows the fear of a serial killer coming after someone, regardless of whether or not it slots in with their motives. Their profile. Their best interests. Whatever the case may be, perhaps it's best for both Miles Edgeworth and Yuri Petrov if Miles Edgeworth found somewhere different. Or, at least, stayed inside. Sat his ass down for a little bit, and while the chairs around the table at Casa Ludgate-Graham are nothing fancy, they're there, one of them already facing outwards just enough to be welcoming.]

...like looking for a needle in a haystack.

[He speaks calmly, quietly, without any of the dramatic flair that made up his entrance. It seems like Yuri's threat has made him too tired, too drained, to keep up his current level of theatrics. He taps his finger against his sleeve, giving further thought to Will's argument]

And even if he wanted to-

[Hunt me down]

-go on this wild goose chase, it wouldn't be worth the risk. There are simply too many eyes on him at the moment for him to chase after every target his heart desires. If he does hunt someone down, it's going to be someone who matters.

[The only part of what Edgeworth says that comes close to "surprising" Will would be the last three words. Self-worth problems? Hopeful delusion? An eyebrow raises as he makes a mental note of it, wonders if it should be addressed, wonders if he'd be a good person to address it, and opts to cover it up by reaching into the cabinet and pulling out a mug. It's chipped, if Edgeworth looks. Old, chipped, clearly a very used piece of drinkware. Probably better thrown out at this point.]

Or someone he thinks might be able to take him down. [Depressing thought, one of his closer friends in this superpowered mess of a world doing such a thing? A little bit. But it's not the worst thought he's had, much less verbalized. He sounds more like he's thinking aloud, contributing, instead of announcing his misery.] Someone who can give him a good fight, finish it instead of...him finishing it.

[Normal day? Normal day! Pouring coffee into that mug, nothing strange and out of place is going on. No. Not at all.]

[Will's comment grabs Edgeworth attention, and he jerks his head up, staring at him (meanwhile, the finer details of the mug remain unnoticed, other than the fact that it is, indeed, a mug). He furrows his brow, unable to understand the other man's conclusion: while suicide by cop (or in this case, superhero) isn't a foreign concept to him, why would Yuri, of all people, want someone to stop his rampage?

And then he remembers the conversation he and Yuri shared earlier that month, where he gave Edgeworth his opinion on Lunatic... or rather, himself.]

Punishment. [Breathes deeply as he recognizes the true weight of his words] You mean he's seeking punishment for his own crimes.

I mean that it's a possibility.

[Quick to clarify, even if his physical actions are slow, leaning against the counter and bringing that mug to his lips. Black, strong enough to strip paint off the wall, Will's not especially good at picking out coffee for any reason other than what will keep me awake? Godot's contributions have been gone a long time now. He hasn't forgotten them, he just...doesn't pick them out for himself. Nothing fancy in this house, no.]

He could be intent to target specific individuals before he's taken in, for a plethora of reasons. He could just as easily be intent to hide away for the time being while finding specific individuals a headache. I'm not making any predictions, I'm not saying anything is fact. I'm simply running through what could be.

[So don't take anything to heart immediately, and don't attribute it to me. Please.]

[Sighs]

Nothing's set in stone. It was just-

[Huffs, throwing his hand up, unable to let that thought go]

It's something he said, while he was still keeping his...

[His life? Himself?]

...identities separate.

[Edgeworth throws his hand up and Will looks down at the sludge in his mug, almost the color of crude oil. It's so much easier to take notice of people when he appears to be doing the exact opposite, but he can't keep that going now. His eyes snap up far quicker than he's been moving all along, dangerously close to annoyed, lips a thin, grim line again. He is not a mind reader, okay, and he's assuming it's not the same line Edgeworth mentioned at the start of the month.

Maybe that mug is chipped because of Will's grip. Or his ability to look ready to drop it if something doesn't give.]

Something being what?

[Will can't work with what he doesn't have, almost says as much. Only, no. No no. This isn't work. He doesn't want to go back into that line of work. No, no, this is just...helping out. Consultation? Unofficial consultation.

Whatever it may be, if Edgeworth wants to throw the dog a bone, he might be able to get something more in return. Get a bone with a chunk of meat on the end it, that's everyone's favorite doggie gift.

When they work for the FBI, at least.]

Edgeworth blinks, jerking upright, taken aback by Will's sudden intensity. The shock fades quickly, though; intense persnalities are nothing new to him, especially when there's a case on the line. He straightens up immediately, his irritation fading, suddenly all business]

I spoke to him a few days after I talked to you - as Petrov, not Lunatic. And I-

[He frowns and narrows his gaze, furious at himself for his complete and total ignorance, but forces himself to move forward]

I asked his opinion on Lunatic, seeing as he seemed like the resident expert. [He practically spits that last word out. Oh, the irony is not lost on him] Specifically, why a man who despises criminals would taint himself by becoming a criminal. And-

[Crosses his arms again]

I don't know how much of this is true and how much of this he simply made up. Regardless, he "theorized" that Lunatic may have been tainted by a past incident - an accident, a loss of temper, something that he, himself, felt was unforgivable. And that because of this, he has nothing left to lose. That-

[Stops himself, closing his eyes, taking a moment to recall Petrov's words]

That when the time came, he would willingly accept his punishment.

[Sudden intensity that only grows the longer Edgeworth goes on. Even when he takes a swig from the mug and sets it on the counter, he's still watching, focused, taking in new information and shredding it to bits to create as accurate a profile as possible.]

Lunatic said when the time comes, he'd answer for what he's done. But. He said that as Lunatic. [He looks at that mug, fingers tapping against the counter as he puzzles this all out.] He talked more about atoning than...punishment. That theory isn't. Unreasonable with what else there is to draw from. [Isn't unreasonable and, unfortunately, not quite what Will was expecting, doesn't quite like how on point it is.] Could be completely true. [He picks the mug back up, seemingly not at all bothered by this small glimpse behind the curtain.] Probably told you that with an agenda, regardless of whether it was true or false.

[Words have meaning. Agenda.

Don't they always?]

[He lowers his gaze, his tone going quiet, but not soft]

And he wouldn't need to lie to push whatever agenda in mind. Verity Willis, one of the people who replied to my...

[Clears his throat, deciding to brush past this part as quickly as possible]

...announcement, volunteered her services. A human lie detector, she called herself. While she was able to uncover some of his deceptions, she also said something interesting.

[And he looks back up, staring at Will before he continues]

That he, in her opinion, rarely needs to lie. That, in her words, 'he knows exactly how to deal with people so he doesn't have to'.

Edited 2015-02-06 00:26 (UTC)

[A human lie detector? Well, well, this was more informative than Will initially had expected it to be. Good to know a human lie detector was running around, albeit for rather selfish reasoning. Sure could come in handy in regards to situations like this, sure could come in as a pain in the ass otherwise.]

They often do. [His lack of seeming bothered is starting to break; his shoulders stiffen, he crosses his legs at the ankle, physically drawing in on himself.] Though with what you've just shown me, if he's giving out admissions...you've got what matters.

[Says Will Graham, trying to persuade himself that's true. For the moment, it's true enough. For the moment, Will can't afford to be the one who shows burns from betrayal. He's no longer plagued by physical sickness, has a good group of people to rely on instead of just the one who's wounding him and the rest of the world around them the most, no, no, there won't be any crumbling, no backsliding this time around.

Edgeworth saying he wasn't someone who matters. Please. Will looks at his bag as he says the last part, taking another sip of that coffee. P l e a s e.]

[So Will Graham finally admits that Edgeworth was right. Not about his methods, no, but about the undeniable connection between Yuri Petrov and Lunatic. And really, that's why he came here, wasn't it? To show him his proof, to declare victory once and for all?

Funny, victory doesn't feel nearly as good as it should. Not with the way Will's face fell when he read the conversation for himself. Not with the threat that looms over their heads until Petrov can be brought in. Not with the last dregs of fear and adrenaline sinking into his gut and flowing sluggishly through his veins, making him feel every bit as small as Will looks right now - and when did he start to look so small, anyhow? At what point, exactly, did the other man start to shrink into himself?

When Will looks at his bag, Edgeworth glances away as well, rolling his shoulders and fiddling with the strap. There's nothing more for him to say, is there? No, there isn't]

Unfortunately, that's all I've got at the moment. [A pause] I should be leaving now. I... don't exactly have anything else to show you, I'm afraid.

Edited 2015-02-06 02:53 (UTC)

[Will's eyes remain on the bag; even as Edgeworth causes it to shift, Will's focus appears rather fixed. Whether it's because he feels as small as he looks, because he's avoiding eye contact, that's up to Edgeworth to decide, if he wants. He stays fixed on it for a while, but there's something about don't exactly have anything else to show you that has his face changing. He's listening, he is very much giving the words out of Miles Edgeworth's mouth full attention despite not looking at him. It almost seems like Will doesn't want to look at him, but...not out of humiliation. Not out of being wrong.

He was wrong about more than Yuri Petrov.

He finally nods, glancing across that lukewarm coffee to Edgeworth's face, and oh, that intensity is not lost. It's just quieter.]

You've showed me plenty. [Not at all referencing the conversation with Yuri Petrov, not at all bothering to hide it. There are hot readings to go along with those cold readings, and Will's certainly unable to claim anything cold in regards to Miles Edgeworth. They might be generally attributed to groups of individuals most consider con artists and nuisances, but Will's never had a problem being among the very bottom of the barrel. He was born there.] Anything crops up you think I can lend a hand with, you know how to reach me. [He points, lazy, as if he truly doesn't realize Edgeworth has no idea of the lay of the house, as if he's just like everyone else when they have their groggy states, need sleep. It's the direction of the bedroom April and he share, Edgeworth can at least surmise wherever he's indicating has his communicator.] Generally always hear that thing go off, regardless of what's happening. I'll answer.

[May God have mercy on Will's soul should Hannibal Lecter ever pop back up.]

Don't worry about locking the door behind you; I'll get it.

(no subject)

takethestairs - 2015-02-06 04:49 (UTC) - Expand