estoria | ( Closed ) Stepping forward out into the day, shrugging off the dust and memory...

( By the time Integra reaches it back to her desk, it dawns upon her that Edgeworth is still standing, making her feel as if she'd been neglecting him. To rectify this, she rushes to pull him out a seat. Certainly he didn't need her permission to sit, did he? )

You may sit, if you like-- or remain standing, if you prefer.

( If you prefer. In her attempt to be accommodating, she outright flusters. She was never the best at playing hostess, simply because she almost never had to.

At his next question, she flinches. He came to check on her. )

I've... ( 'been unwell', is what she wanted to say, and not solely because of this one experience. Frankly, if she were being honest with herself, she's been unwell for these past several years. ) been worse.

( It wasn't a lie. There were times when her job back at home made her wish her life had ended there, yet she persevered. She had to. )

Thank you.

[Edgeworth moves to sit down primly, hardly noticing any flustering. He sighs, folding his hands on his lap and knowing where she's coming from. Because he himself has been through worse, as well.]

Yes, it could have been worse. [He closes his eyes briefly.] Especially when you've had to endure more in another world.

I see. ( She gingerly seats herself at her desk once more; eyes shifting from Edgeworth's face as she speaks. ) Then I presume you were forced to relive moments you'd much rather have forgotten as well?

( She wasn't about to ask him precisely what happened, as she wished not to pry-- rather, to confirm her suspicions. There were many others who investigated the same building as she, making it likely that Edgeworth was among them. )

[He nods slowly, barely shifting in his seat.]

Yes, in that building with mirrors. [Edgeworth glances down at his hands.] Those mirrors would show anyone a scene from his or her past.

Yes, I am aware. You needn't say anymore, if you do not wish to.

( She wanted to give him that option, if he did not wish to address his experience, knowing that it would pain her if placed in the same position. Integra spends a moment mulling-- staring into the depths of her teacup, before finally resolving herself for what to say next. )

I could tell you what happened, if you would like.

( Few people ever thought to check on her well-being, and although she did not wish to burden him-- either, she'd rather not leave him without a definitive answer, after all the effort he went through. )

Edited 2016-03-13 03:11 (UTC)

[Edgeworth is curious about what Integra saw, but he feels that it's unfair to ask her about it when he doesn't want to share his memory. Then again, he could be vague about his. And she had offered to tell him, so he may as well ask.

Maybe not directly. He meets her eyes.]

Was it something from that other world? Where you met...me?

( To his question, she shakes her her, indicating a resounding 'no'. Integra then lifts the teacup from its saucer, and takes a sip. )

It was a memory from my childhood, I'm afraid. But if you wish for me to share with you about my experiences from the world I inhabited prior, I wouldn't mind.

( Ruby City largely being the more comfortable of the two subjects, but she made her peace with speaking on the former. She owed it to him, she felt, if that is what Edgeworth wanted to hear. )

[So, the same as what he saw. A childhood memory. He'll let her keep that. Though Edgeworth still looks solemn and serious, there is a twinkle of curiosity in his gray eyes - a glint of wanting to know the truth.

He leans forward, a touch. Not enough to intimidate or unnerve anyone, just enough to express his interest and how attentive he'll be.]

I'd like to hear about them, please.

Edited 2016-03-13 08:25 (UTC)

( She doesn't look at him-- not directly. She never quite knew how to speak of such matters, retreating into what was most comfortable: detachment; the same distant manner she was accustomed to carrying out her work. Steeling herself, she says to him: )

Perhaps I needed to tell someone.

( He hadn't specified what he wanted to hear, so she presumed it was okay. She'd allowed the past to torment her for too long; she could trust him, she felt. )

My father passed away when I was not yet thirteen. He was always ill, so this in itself did not come as a shock to me. However, not long before his passing, I had been named his successor, slated to assume his position among the Round Table. My uncle had been expecting this position prior, you see, and saw fit to take matters into his own hands.

( It needn't be said how that plan turned out. )

[His eyes widen a little. He wasn't expecting her story to start with...well, her history. Edgeworth listens quietly, hands now clasped and resting on his lap.

So, Integra had inherited her rank. At a young age. And already made an enemy. Edgeworth would make a comment about her being so young if he hadn't already encountered many children who had so much thrust upon them, and learned to fight and face death so early in their lives.]

He wanted you out of the picture, I presume?

( She winces, eyes averting to her right shoulder-- the shoulder she sustained a gun shot wound; the one her uncle had managed to hit, the first of her many scars. In response to Edgeworth's question, she nods. )

By whatever means necessary. He very nearly had me killed. That was the memory I relived.

( She turned silent now, her own hands balled up upon her knees. It was difficult thinking about it now, the thought of having to shoot down her own uncle-- a man she believed she could trust, in defense of her own life. It was necessary, she knew. It was not an act she regretted. But everything that came after? The constant need to prove herself, to frame herself a relentless soldier to the Round Table, to appear unmoved by the lives she had been forced to take. That part she abhorred.

Had she truly become so callous; unfeeling-- an Iron Maiden? )

[He knows that feeling - knowing that someone wanted to pull him down by any means necessary, although he only learned of that later in life. Edgeworth nods slowly, with a respectful, somber air about him. Doubtless that had made an impact on who Integra was now.]

What happened to your uncle? [His tone is quiet, and he only belatedly realizes that the question tumbled out of his mouth almost automatically.] I-If I may.

[Boy, this conversation had taken quite a turn.]

It's alright, Miles--. ( When she notices her slip-up, her hand rises to cover the pink hue bestowing her cheeks. She never intended to act so familiar with him-- not when he didn't remember her as she had. ) Mr. Edgeworth, it's fine. I trust you.

( She made the effort, at least, to correct this infraction, hoping he wouldn't take offense. )

I... ( Despite this, she's hesitant to speak. She had no qualms with admitting her role in her uncle's unfortunate end, but Alucard's? To explain her family had not only sealed away Dracula's powers, but experimented on him and forced him into servitude? That she, albeit unwittingly, unlocked his powers that day and assumed the role as his master? That was too much. She swallows the lump that's formed in her throat, resolving herself to say: ) He dropped his gun. As unfortunate as it may sound, I shot and killed him. I had no other choice but to seize this opportunity to ensure my own survival.

( And in many ways, although she did not realize it herself, she abhorred herself for it. To think she was capable of such a thing at such a young age haunted her. )

[Edgeworth doesn't really care much about the lapse; many people had insisted on calling him Miles right off the bat in Death City that he had long since gotten used to it. So he hardly reacts when Integra calls him "Miles". Then again, he doesn't give her explicit permission to use his first name.

Neither does he flinch or react to the next development in the story. A nasty voice in his head tells him, why should he object? Hadn't he also killed a sentient being in Death City, by his own choice? Hadn't his mask reminded him of that?

He purses his lips.]

You acted in self-defense. And there is nothing we can do about that now.

[In the same way there was nothing he could do about his father, who was already dead. Or what he did to forge a Death Scythe.]

( Listening to Edgeworth's words, she finds herself nodding with a knowing, understanding air about her. )

I know. It's never been something I've particularly held against myself, but...

( But... what? Why should she feel any remorse for the man who almost killed her, a child, for something so trivial as a title? She spends a moment resting the temple of her head against her palm. )

Oftentimes, I'll think about the time following my knighthood-- moreso now than I have been, and how it's made me acutely aware of the atrocities that we - as humans - are capable of.

( What she was capable of. )

[Edgeworth frowns, folding his arms across his chest, tapping one arm with a finger.]

I'm also aware of that. You know I am a prosecutor; as one, I've seen people commit atrocity after atrocity, often without remorse.

[He stops the rhythmic tapping, opening his hand to look at the scars and calluses earned from over a year of using weapons, living and nonliving.]

And in the other world I was brought to, I learned that it isn't just humans who are so capable.

Edited 2016-03-30 02:27 (UTC)

I am well aware, Mr. Edgeworth. ( For but a moment, she gently rests her eyelids; allowing them to close as she readjusts her glasses. ) And I am sure - in that regard - there are times when it's not difficult to discern what acts are just-- self-defence, for instance - from senseless acts of violence.

( And in that regard, that is distinctly not what Integra is referring to. )

What I speak of is modern warfare. The expectation that - as a soldier - you are told to detach yourself, to suppress your feelings for the sake of honour or defending your country.

( The dehumanization of it irked her; it always did. The fact that there had been many instances she had been ordered to take life, or made the call to. How was she able to live with herself for all these years? She slumps back in her chair a bit, listless and solitary. )

[Feelings, huh. He closes his open hand, although he cups it in the other. He recalls having a conversation like this the last time he was back home.]

I used to believe being a prosecutor entailed the same. [The badge he always carried in his pocket suddenly felt a bit more weighty.] And yet, our feelings are an integral part of being human. To suppress them - it is easier said than done.

And yet... [He takes a deep breath, and exhales it slowly.] Sir Hellsing, I was also a soldier, of sorts. In the world I came from.

[Which would explain why when they first met, Integra saw Edgeworth so familiar with combat.]

I see. ( At that moment, for the first time since they began this conversation, Integra locks eyes with Edgeworth's, a mixture of pain and uncertainty lingering in her gaze. ) Then I'm certain you understand how suffocating it can be-- to have such a thing imposed upon you.

( Which was true for many of her own mannerisms; always conforming to expectation, as opposed to embracing her own ideals.

At his next statement, she appears half-shocked, half not. It definitely fit, given his knowledge of combat against the droids. )

That certainly clears up a few things, I must admit. ( Steeling herself, she cannot help but ask: ) If I may, what did your duties entail during your time spent in this world?

( She doesn't want to pry too much, but talking with him about such things, admittedly, seemed to help. )

[He closes his eyes briefly, imagining himself back in that other world, memories of that life playing over and over again. When he opens his eyes again, there seems to be a lingering shadow in his gray gaze - the shadow of his life as a soldier of sorts.]

We were given a choice - to join a war against creatures that fed on human souls, among other enemies, or to live under the protection of the city in which we arrived.

[Edgeworth places his hands on his knee.]

Those of us who chose to fight would embark on missions to seek and destroy monsters around the world, train, and help keep our home safe.

To be fair, we were given powers to aid us, and teachers to guide us.

( Here, she's watching him intently now; taking in the shift of his gaze and the features of his face as he speaks. For a brief moment, her hand rises, inadvertently touching her cheek before joining her other to be studiously folded against her desk. )

You did it because you had friends you wished to protect, am I not correct? ( Her voice is softer this time; quieter, lacking the judgement she held against herself prior. ) It's admirable.

( Had this role not been expected of her, would she have still chosen it: the life of a knight defending her country, and the people in it? She had cried out for a knight to protect her - the night of her uncle's attack - but found she had to become the very thing she wanted to defend herself. Why did she feel a sense of obligation to carry out orders out of obligation, when she oftentimes could not condone them herself? )

Edited (I am just noticing my typo like 7 hours later a;lkshdkfjsl) 2016-04-01 04:46 (UTC)

Hmph. [Edgeworth shrugs, shaking his head with a wry grin.] Yes, but first and foremost, I didn't want to be a burden. I felt duty-bound to do my part in the war effort.

[He's not as selfless as people might think. Also, he was pushed by his own experience getting stranded out in the desert with only a disbarred Phoenix Wright and a bunch of monsters for company until someone saved their collective bacon.]

( Well if that doesn't sound suspiciously like Integra's reasons for doing anything. She scoffs, nearly wanting to shake her head. Yes, he was more like her than she previously assessed, and that was disconcerting. )

Mankind is a slave to duty, or so they say.

( There is something darker-- nearly sardonic to her words; much as if she had more to say, but was mentally restraining herself. She could, if she wanted to: about the Round Table's distaste for her, or her determination to persevere in spite of that. What was stopping her? For now, these questions plagued her mind. )

It depends on how much of a slave one wants to be. One can choose to what extent they can give themselves over to that duty.

[Edgeworth's tone remains even and matter-of-fact.]

After all, didn't we establish that a person's feelings are just as important?

[He reaches up to adjust his cravat, feeling the fine cloth against his battle-weary hands. So much for hands only stained by ink, sundered by paper cuts and aching from excessive writing.]

Anyway, the opportunity to travel and fight also opened up opportunities for me to learn more about that world. I had more than ample time to do so; I spent a year and a few months there before coming here.

( Well, that's not quite what Integra was getting at, but... )

That isn't--. ( She stops herself there. ) Please. I am... relieved to hear you were comfortable with the work which you agreed to.

( BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T KNOW A THING ABOUT BEING UNCOMFORTABLE WITH OBLIGATION... ever. Although she was prepared to blow up at him, she unbristles, slowly reverting back into her aura of calm. )

[Edgeworth stiffens; had he said something wrong. But when she calms down, so does he. Okay...that was weird.

He sighs and purses his lips, a wry expression on his face as he makes a sound that almost, almost resembles a chuckle.]

I wasn't always comfortable with a life of combat and the supernatural, as you can imagine. I had every intention of returning to a normal life...and then I arrived here.

( Did he say anything wrong? Not exactly. She'd misinterpreted him, and felt awful for it as a result. But really, when it boiled down to it, she didn't want to admit that after that time spent away from her own world that she was still shellshocked; that certain words or phrases could still set her off.

Still, when she speaks this time around, her tone is softer, hinting of empathy. )

I don't think many of us ever truly are. It means that-- despite the atrocities you bear witness, you are fighting to retain your humanity.

Edited 2016-04-04 00:23 (UTC)

[Edgeworth shifts in his seat, relaxing and clasping his hands together on one knee. He nods slowly.]

Of course. It's so easy to lose sight of that in the legal profession, or in the battlefield. In your home world, or an entire universe away from it.

It's work that makes you want to convince yourself that you're a soldier before you are a person, I know. ( Regrettably, she's been there. ) It can be such a crippling mindset.

( She didn't want to talk about how the Round Table would call her an Iron Maiden, and that-- at times, she was still prone to believing there was some truth to it. And in a way, she didn't want to worry Edgeworth more than she already had.

However, she cannot help but remark: )

It's strange. You always used to be so reserved when I knew you before.

( Not that she's complaining or anything. To Integra, it was refreshing to see him finally embrace his softness; something which had previously been difficult for him. It was something she struggled with, as well. )

[Edgeworth just grins - actually, his grin is bordering on smirk territory - and tilts his head back. Boy, had he come that far? He most likely did. Not that he didn't like it; it was a good change. He chuckles again.]

The Miles Edgeworth you knew most likely did not have the same experiences I did. We may have been from different points in time, as well.

[That world most likely did not have a war, let alone a war wherein you had to trust your partner with your very life to fight more effectively.]

Tell me, what do you know about him? What has he told you?

[It's so surreal, talking about myself as if I were a different person. Then again, that much is true. He and I may both be the same person, but we were shaped differently, in different worlds.]

Edited 2016-04-06 03:50 (UTC)

( Stunned his display, Integra spends a moment (just a moment) staring. She'd never seen him grinning like this, and once she notices, turns her head to conceal her embarrassment. )

Very little, I'm afraid. Your friend-- Mr. Wright, saw fit to fill in the blanks for me.

( She was always closer to Phoenix, truth be told, but later would come to enjoy Edgeworth's company. )

However, I recall that when fist met you, I'd been transformed back into a child. I had no memory of where I was or why, oddly enough. You unwittingly stumbled upon me crying on one of the park benches-- actually, and stopped to ask me why that was. I responded by telling you that I was lost, and that my father passed away.

( At this next part, there is a soft smile gracing her lips. )

You then said that you understood how I felt, and offered me your hand, asking if I would like to have tea with you.

( Perhaps that was why she chose to tell him the fuller story today, because he had been so kind to her before. )

It wasn't until some month later I learnt you had an adoptive sister. A ghastly woman, who attempted to whip me when I explained to her the gravity of her circumstances. ( For whatever reason, Integra doesn't mind talking smack about Franziska in front of him, or not addressing her by name... wait, "attempted"? ) Which leads me to presume Mr. von Karma was her father?

( That was never clear after she had met him, it felt like too much of a coincidence. A pity to think her his daughter, though. She actually liked him. )

Edited 2016-04-06 11:21 (UTC)

[Transformed back into a child? He blinks owlishly at that part but says nothing; these different worlds were all strange. Edgeworth listens, drumming his fingers on his lap, not at all surprised that Franziska had wanted to whip Integra. Although his eyes did widen at that part and his hand twitched as if he wanted to just raise it to his forehead and groan.

Well, considering that Integra was raised to become a knight, surely she would be competent enough to dodge a whip.]

[Manfred von Karma is far more ghastly than Franziska. And Franziska can be more or less ghastly depending on what point in time she is from.]

[His expression hardly changes at her question. The truth about Manfred...was not something Integra needed to know right now.]

That's correct. I presume you met him while he was here?

( Closed ) Stepping forward out into the day, shrugging off the dust and memory...

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