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@advictorem
❝ I never lost a case I should have won, but I won nearly all the cases I should have lost. ❞
𝐚𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐦. original character roleplay blog for vincent "jack" vanderbilt, a defense attorney on a winning streak. sideblog to @sinsolucion. same rules apply; non - mutuals welcome. info brief.
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"ₒₕ... ₜₕₐₙₖ ᵧₒᵤ," he accepts the returning documents with the grace of a shell-shocked common vole; present enough for his body to react to the gesture but mind too lost in habits to instantously discern the change in pace. "this— uh ... ? W—"
"——?!?!??!!! WAIT—" he has half a mind to seize the retreating man by his sleeve; gets foiled when the thought alone causes his fingers to tighten 'round the edges of neatly stacked papers. it cannot be helped. his feet set into motion instead, reports rising higher and higher in the safety of his grasp until they cover the lower half of his face and form a shield that allows for just a bit more proximity. "no, this isn't good at all—!" cue the unsteady steps of a guy who cannot quite figure out the ideal walking speed to not lose track of his recurring visitor without running risk to outright bump into him. "all of this is going to be trouble for your case?! i couldn't give you a single helpful piece of information—"
that was that, or so he thought. when a stumbling half - gallop along time catches his ear, his own stride stifles, loafers squeaking at a short stop. hardly had he even time to contemplate his next steps before the present ones met their end at the edge of a cliff.
mouth ajar, without even a peep, jekyll allowed his ( surprisingly loud? quite the contrast from moments before ) outburst without interjection. his failing to obscure his thoughts be damned, for from then, a new clock ticks down — in court, speed is everything: fast or slow. the former may imply confidence, though a seasoned jury ( judge? ) could claim concerned adrenaline. the latter, a beast of its own — unbothered courage, or worse, stalling.
... he counts internally every passing moment, needing not a watch to gauge what years of experience has thrust upon him. the ample moment in which to speak ( a deep inhalation, or two, approximately eight seconds to serve a sustainable defense ). that being said... he harbors an ounce of fear, for this may be the first ( and hopefully only? ) time he contemplates lying to a judge ( perhaps he has not come to terms with jekyll's occupational retreat just yet ).
a vocal faux pas, a stammering 'uh', is only allowed internally. from there, he continues aloud. ❝ don't think of it as trouble. i know now the facts and have time to work through what i have to make my case. any information is helpful information, and i appreciate your willingness to share it with me. i have managed worse. ❞ though it does not meet his eyes, a smile sets on his face. ❝ you did a good job uncovering the truth. that is all that anyone can ask of you. ❞
he rests; no lies to be found.
@advictorem continued from here.
"... ... ... of course you can't," he realizes then, free hand rising to his face to hide the rush of embarrassment that seizes his cheek with a few seconds delay. god forbid humans were to be equipped with hyper-accurate vision that allows for long-distance observations of any sort. as if the imagined gazes he feels drilling holes into his back on the daily aren't providing enough nightmare fuel. he should be grateful.
"... um." his arm extends slowly ( and the set of documents in his hand along with it ), all while his face remains buried until further notice. "please go ahead and take a proper look."
jack did not think himself uncharismatic, though in this instance, he surely couldn't think himself suave presently either. no, awkward sufficed for this moment — he knew there was ill else to do than admit his visual weakness ( rather, that of most others, for he doubted anyone could read from such a distance when the text was small enough ) but consoling his company did not come as easily as it should. perhaps there was another way to smooth things over.
so, at risk of perpetuating the painful pause, violet eyes peruse paperwork at a brisk pace ( he isn't used to pulling punches; he won't stop to think why he is trying to do so now, either ). ❝ this is good work. ❞ and challenging at that — how will he cast shadow of doubt that his client wasn't the killer? perhaps he was better off not knowing, but his face would not relinquish the thought. the document is handed back, and with that, jack takes another step away. ❝ thank you. i will relieve you of my company. ❞ and without further adieu, he makes to leave posthaste.
' you're a little close— ' he can't be reaching for his emotional security broom already. not yet. surely this is a man he can reason with. (from jekyll)
is he? the space seemed socially acceptable; arms' length, well out of bioterrorism range ( that is to say, coughing distance ). all the same, he acquiesces without verbal complaint, though his visage betrays that silence and brandishes a look of bemusement. ❝ i... cannot read from here, though... ❞
' you know a lot about plush toys ... ' no judgment. just an observation. (from jekyll)
he's speechless, judging by parted lips' prolonged hang — or perhaps the minuscule exhalation could feasibly pass for a sigh. ❝ your hon— er, jekyll... did your parents... not give you toys as a child? as a toddler...? ❞ when soft toys were preferred over potential choking hazards?
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lowered lids mirror straight edged eyebrows and unamused, taut lips. ❝ you can, in fact, trust most hang tags, for regulations long in place keep the throats of these businesses away from the guillotine. and if this one, perchance, fails to meet standards, we sue. not an unfamiliar concept, i would hope. ❞
rather than prolong frivolous bickering, he storms forth, hand at ready to wrench the rodent from hesitant hands and plunge it into the depths of tempered radiation. ❝ let it fulfill its purpose, jekyll. you don't get the calming effect unless you heat it. ❞ and by the gods did this guy need it.
﹙ @nildejure ⎯⎯ ✎ ﹚
and it really is preferable that way. long gone are the times that he'd feel brazen enough to claim the judge's bench. in fact, every other glance at it from down below had only served to make him realize more and more what an inadequate candidate he'd been for the position all this while. perseverance. confidence. authority. fairness encumbers only one side of justitia's scales—the other one is reserved for an innate disposition he doesn't possess. ( what use is a righteous creed if one lacks the ability to inspire others? )
"i'm ... just doing my job. apparently someone found the written report to be 'lacking'—" a shudder preludes an unspoken realization. it couldn't have been him, could it? a scene unfolds before his inner eyes: crinkled report pages stained with critique-laden red ink and a frowning attorney shuffling through them with increasing dismay. "w-well! maybe it was! i thought i was perfectly thorough, but ..." but ... he's been wrong before. so who could really say? "... ... i guess new perspectives also require self-reflection." he dodges the other man's gaze; tries to, anyway, by redirecting his attention to a particularly interesting-looking wooden ornament on the far other side of the hall. "if ... if there's any details you still need, i'll do my best to oblige."
while the mouth makes to motion 'i understand', it is without weight. this was not initially 'his job' and, while tenure could tempt another into dabbling with newfound careers, this one seemed... a regression, in the grand scheme of things. who sets aside scales for a scalpel? ( parental opinion be damned ). like his neutral mien, jack gives little away, pursed lips barring the passing lie from disembarking.
even with new words hanging from tongue ( in this case, 'i see' ), he finds them hesitant still. to be so unsure of oneself ill fitted men of their ilk, they who donned robes of justice and wielded silver tongues against a populace that hung on every syllable, some whose lives depended on it more than others. with every passing thought, those lavender eyes — unwavering, unblinking, unmoving — persist upon jekyll until the body finally thought it time to talk.
❝ the details i seek do not pertain to your... report, ❞ he retorts, brows furrowed and cheeks scrunched into the lower lids of bemused eyes. ❝ moreso your position. why have you stepped down? ❞ tact left to the wolves, his tone makes innocent inquiry more akin to a demand.
...perhaps he was mistaken, seldom that may be. had confidence not been his forte, he would relent, assuming this man's identity otherwise of no intrigue. still, he entertains the notion of an erroneous supposition with a brief turn of head, giving glance towards the ascended podium overlooking the court, where another had taken seat.
well then — incorrect after all, albeit in title alone. lavender eyes narrow, as if his very glance could part the dark strands obscuring identification. ❝ but... you are… ❞ his words wilt where they stand, mouth ajar amidst contemplation. ( who are we, if not our appellations? ) ❝ ...fine, ❞ should it please this peculiar personality, he would speak only of the corpse, the body of the hour.
...at least, until session's end, where jack made haste, hoping to blindside the mortician once more in private, the man's nerves be damned. ❝ ... i did not think i would ever see you behind the stand—the witness stand—jekyll. ❞
﹙ @nildejure ⎯⎯ ✎ ﹚
Contempt is heard in the consonants of most languages, or how the voice takes a whimsical, mocking tone. Beneath many corporate shoes are the shills and monkey suits that barely think to try and raise their head, and their spines have long bent out of fear.
His chin lifts. Unfortunately, he can't grow a few inches with a bit of boldness alone; though heeled shoes are a statement piece.
" For my career-?" Hands clasp, a thin smile that could waver as easily as the twitch in his brow. " You clearly haven't heard what Justice has been up to." Now, this he chuckles to himself at what he perceives is clever ambiguity, his straightened shoulders and raised brow are egregiously displayed. To let that fly out of his mouth without stuttering like he used to, now that was a victory worth preening over later.
" I'd even bet ten percent of the proceeds that we have a victory within the second day. I'm sure you've seen the payout for wrongful death cases."
a sisyphean task, dashing the venomous ooze seeping from his crevices of his sneer. ❝ how... ❞ ( precious. ) ❝ ...noble of you. i will take this declaration as your wholehearted support for taking on this case. why, i've even prepared the substitution of attorney document for you, ❞ a shrug of enlightened shoulder slides the messenger bag into a position of easier access, allowing for a manilla folder's quick retrieval and subsequent shove into apollo's palms.
❝ perhaps i will in fact learn from this... find out just what justice has in store. i eagerly await the magnificent turnabout your agency is so known for, and i anticipate owing you that ten percent if you are even half as competent as you are confident. ❞ a loss, as impossible as he knew it to be, would not be of consequence with his comfortable wealth; instead, he would contemplate what to do with this youthful attorney's share. ( and even more so, contemplate however would apollo pay him? )
‹ ... Just finished polishing off his coffee, too. Excellent timing! As the other man led with his request and followed in with his body moments later, the detective had already stood upright to greet his new potential client. The man was well-dressed, perhaps a little moreso than the detective at first glance ( for the detective's shirt ran a button or two lower than it really should have ) and right to the point. Good signs in a client, but could also be the telltale signs of a person who was all airs before manners. ›
❝ A simple enough idea on the surface, ❞ ‹ Shuuji would reply with a grin towards the other. › ❝ What's your name, before we get into the nitty gritty? Just so I'm not just constantly calling you "sir" throughout this. ❞
a simple lift of brow — however innocent, peculiar, and small it may be — quietly inquires on the necessity of names. after all, was "sir" not fitting for someone you worked for — not with? a slow, tempered smile curves the lips of pale skin. ❝ call me jack, ❞ he offers, hand extended. ❝ and it is indeed simple to say: you see, my client is being accused of murder, ❞ of which jack was willing to bet his father's life ( a gamble of no consequence to him ) that they had committed in truth. ❝ and is not the... fan favorite of their town, i will say. many will not talk to me, as their defense. but i imagine your good nature may provide better results. ❞
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— 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 !
ORANGE. you'll have to let go of it someday, you know that, don't you? don't be afraid of that. it's something that has to happen, just as troubles will be forgiven, actions will be remembered, and just as the time will pass regardless of whether you are taking a step forward, or back. you've got a strong personality, and i admire you for that, along with your lack of hesitation when finding an answer for yourself and for what you want to do.
knowing what you want in life is very important, and although it's good that you know that, it's also important to consider what other people want in life, too. you're bright, and you're fiery, and emotions are something that you feel a bit too much of sometimes, but I understand. don't lose yourself in the path of moving forward, or you'll end up right back at the start.
tagged: @kagoshou xoxo <3
"what do you want me to do?" solitary ring brushes briefly against his own mug's rim as he retrieves it, abundantly refilled, from the break room's coffee machine. "pound that kind of self-awareness into him with good, old-fashioned ceramic? even pedagogy has its limits. sometimes you gotta let kids reach for the stove top and allow them to get burned."
behind the rim of his mug is a smug smirk, sharpening the right edge of his lip. ❝ oh, well, if you're offering, i got a decently sized sculpture i've been meaning to get rid of. ❞ it wasn't to his tastes, and his father knew this well when it was sent. ❝ with his track record, i don't think a mere burn will do. i was hoping you would frighten him a tad. i gave it my best shot, but he is sure that i can bring him freedom. i'm not even sure what my lunch'll be, let alone that. ❞
❝ an excellent display, ❞ he applauds, three fingers rhythmically meeting the palm of his left hand as he stands over his ( mayhap former ) client and the officer that took him down. ❝ a nine out of ten; point deducted only because the clown yet breathes. ❞ crouching to loom closer, he sighs. ❝ what kind of moron flees on bail that was barely granted to them? unless the jury is catatonic and you personally handwrite their verdict, you'll be likely to spend your twilight years squinting through an obligatory barred window. ❞
with that, he offers a sympathetic smile towards ray. ❝ good work, sir. i'm sorry this guy thought himself capable of escape. ❞ and even sorrier for his back: truly the police department in this district deserved the doping rumor he's heard. had he taken another route in life, perhaps he would have been badgering them to admit it for the press.
@bloodxhound // short welcome starter.
A familiar scoff precedes the opening of floodgates. "Look, man, I'm going to be honest with you--this is probably the stupidest issue I've had to call you for, but oh well, I guess the cops like busting your balls. They wanna DEPORT me for setting off fireworks that aren't even mine, but since I was there with my bUdDiEs, it's my fault!"
❝ your balls, ❞ he corrects, peering over the rim of his mug for even an ounce of introspection ( perhaps he asked too much of the young and dumb ). ❝ unfortunately, i lack the experience you seem to have, as mine are quite fine, thank you. ❞ with that, a hand extends slowly across rosewood to retrieve his midori notebook, alongside a fountain pen that taps idly along airy, cotton pulp pages.
❝ now... presumably, your citizenship isn't in question, so i doubt we need to worry about that, but i do need more information on the event. your presence can be quite damning. did you set off any? ❞ his inquiry has a lingering bite, a snake willing to lunge should a lie attempt to placate his palate.
Oh, this was... just peachy, the peachiest on the tree in L.A., dying because of the heat and limited water. And there was the standing cause himself, drying any positivity out of the air with his thinly veiled disgust. Sure, Apollo liked to pride himself as a man representing the WAA's reputation,and being the only lawyer there not to be suspected in a case, it felt pretty solid. But now this new gaze feels like it's going to turn him into a dust mote if he stays within the line of sight. Somewhere out there, it feels like there's a word or phrase for someone turning a conversation so badly that you're somehow their newest victim. Either way.
"We've had cases that seemed pretty set for results... You'd be surprised how much you find out in a single day." His grip on the folder is light, tenative, like his acceptance while he chances looking over this unimpressed pencil-pusher.(Not unlike himself.)
"Though, this is the most obtuse way someone's asked for help- If you're seeking cooperation with ...." The name isn't far from a glance down. "Mr. Dunnit, I'm sure he wouldn't mind another pair of eyes on his case."
youthful optimism was to be admired while it lasted, before the roots of realism strangled its last breath. for that reason, his smile grew, tickling the corners of his eyes ever so slightly. ❝ so i've heard. your little agency here feels like a fitting home for this case. ❞ a good graveyard, if anything.
tucking his hands within pockets of entwining forearms sprawled along his chest, jack allows himself a muted chuckle. ❝ oh, i'm not asking for help. ❞ he would not confess that this was below his paygrade, but gods be damned if this greenhorn thought he required assistance. ❝ i will not be pursuing this case any further, but i believe i saw that this facility will take any on. i feel it could be beneficial to your career in the distant future to get more trials under your belts. ❞
it took only a moment for him to replace 'wins' with 'trials'. what was his norm may not be this rookie's.
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➜ ( general information )
full name : vincent jacques vanderbilt.
nicknames : jack. he doesn't like bastardizations of his first name.
age : thirty - eight.
date of birth : july 26th.
nationality : american.
occupation : defense attorney at a partnered law firm.
sexuality : he can't keep a partner long enough to know for sure.
➜ ( appearance )
face claim : duke leviathan zebert from "the youngest hides a lot of things".
height : 6'0".
hair colour : black.
eye colour : purple.
distinguishing features : you couldn't pick him out from a crowd, but he does dress nicely. pretty average build; he works out frequently enough to be healthy.
➜ ( background information )
hometown : salt lake city, utah.
current residence : bel air, los angeles.
education level : summa cum laude at yale university's law school.
father & mother : a neurosurgeon father, an anesthesiologist mother. he does not keep much contact.
❝ vace. ❞ long had jack moved beyond professionalism with this particular frequent flyer. there were less syllables, therefore less time wasted, in getting to the point on a first name basis. ❝ what did you 'allegedly' do now? ❞
@privateerings // short welcome starter.
