#dream thread

Sometimes dreams do come true.

This would have not been the first time Zenyatta dreamt of Genji...

But never like this.

Making sense of it was impossible while it happened, he could only allow it to.

So he nodded.

His student was stunning. A vision.

New AA au: Miles Edgeworth is his own private jet who regularly precision-strike crash-bombs Phoenix Wright, who receives nothing but a bump to the head.

Are you kidding?  Yes, please, share those AA dreams

Okay, just a little context first.

See, the dream thread on Court-Records was a pretty desolate place before I and a few friends essentially took it over and made it into our personal chatroom, though we regularly keep on topic. And so, so many amazing dreams, dream sagas, and running gags have been born of it. It is now one of the most active threads on the forums.

And one of the longest-running is definitely the story of Drunkworth, or drunk Edgeworth. What a rascal. I can’t believe he’s now my mom.

Ahem. It started around when the fan translation for GK2 came out that we got into the discussion of how OOC Edgeworth seemed in both AAI games, and even more so in GK2. Our discussion inevitably went awry when one of us suggested that he wasn’t OOC, just dead drunk throughout the entire thing. And it stuck.

And a while later, after another friend unintentionally set up the Crack Theory thread, my friends and I overtook that one too when someone (was it me?) brought up our dear Father in Heaven Gregory. At first it was just a silly pun, but then the whole thing blew up into a full-on cult, which we now call the Church of Edgeworthism, complete with scriptures retelling the sacrifices Our Holy Father had made, the suffering the Holy Son endured, and the ascension of one disciple, Phoenix Wright, by solving the DL-6 Incident. Praise be.

And somewhere along the lines, we merged them together, so now whenever we refer to Miles, we have to specify whether we mean his normal self, his drunk self, or his Messiah self; or some combination of the three.

But then it only got worse when I started having these dreams, since we were just getting GS6 news, where Phoenix randomly replaced my father. At the time, I wasn’t sure if Maya replaced my mother, but she was there too. And so, Trucy and Apollo also became my siblings. At first, I thought it was a fluke, but then these dreams kept coming back.

And some other point, someone else’s dream established that Phoenix can’t hold his alcohol for his life, and it sealed his fate as a drunkard too. Just, not as bad as Drunkworth. No one is as bad as Drunkworth.

And then another pivotal dream came along, where I thought I woke up, but was actually having a vivid dream. I woke up to the sounds of the TV playing and thought my parents were up already. But when I went out, it wasn’t my parents. It was Phoenix and Edgeworth on my couch, watching TV. And I just went back to bed and pretended I saw nothing.

Henceforth, they’ve been recurring as my parents, spontaneously replacing them at random, and we’ve been through a lot of weird adventures. And by now, I’ve simply accepted the fact that I’m in the habit of calling Phoenix “Dad” and Edgeworth “Mom”. There was even one dream where they added Maya as a second mother in the paperwork, so I guess I’m in a polyandric family?

And as a result, I sometimes come upon situations where “Dammit, Mom! Just because you’re indestructible and the Messiah doesn’t mean you won’t get burned! Put on some gloves when you’re handling the oven!” And when he doesn’t listen, I tell on him to “Grandpa Gregory”, who’s always watching from heaven.

Continued from this post.

It has been frustrating lately. I’ve come upon another drought of AA dreams (not of dreams, mind you, Weird Al’s songs have been stuck in mind again). So, in classic Rubia fashion, I return to reminisce.

After the last fiasco, my subconscious (henceforth known as Subby) led me to a different series, but with a reference to suggest I’m still part of the same “timeline”, so to speak.

I had returned to high school, but my class schedule was a little different than my current course. I was a linguistics major who dabbled in art. And fortunately, I had the choice to pick the best professors for my art and Japanese classes: Professor Wright and Professor Edgeworth.

As a matter of fact, Trucy and Athena were both students and assistants to Prof. Wright. I swear Apollo was supposed to be around, but I didn’t see him. (Even funnier by then because we had another running gag that Apollo is a frequent stoner who had a weird habit of spinning/running around in circles. He’s been through a lot, guys.)

I don’t know exactly why Mr. Edgeworth would be teaching Japanese, or why he insists that his students refer to him as “Mitsurugi” during the duration of the class period, but apparently I was also a teacher’s assistant for him. (Actually, this was established in another dream. More on that next time.)

Anyway, there I was in the art class, practicing with watercolor for an assignment, and I was inspired by nature. I drew a beautiful bay reef with a flourishing fish and coral community. I even had added a scuba diver with a camera on the side, to “capture” the moment.

But, while I was satisfied with how it turned out, I took another look at it and decided it was missing something. It’s pretty, but boring. I’ve seen better works that capture the real beauty of the seascape.

So, I did what I had to do. After the paint had dried, I grabbed a set of crayons and very sloppily sketched out a picture of a spiky-haired merman wielding a red trident and with a very, very angry face (we’re talkin’ >8( kind of angry) trying to chase away some fish out of his backyard. It looked like a five-year-old had drawn it. I was so proud.

When I submitted the finished product, I made sure to let the professor know that I perfectly captured his image in the picture too.

He just stared at it, looked at me, and smiled sheepishly. Speechless, just as I had expected. Naturally, when Trucy and Athena saw it, they burst into laughter.

Continued from this post.

I thought that was that and I wouldn’t see him (as a merman) ever again. How wrong I was.

A few days after that one, I had an indirect sequel. This time, I was cruising by another sandy beach in a motorboat, as if on a fishing trip. It was pretty chill, though I definitely had a lot more fun zipping across the waves than actually fishing.

Eventually, though, I sailed out a bit to do a little dolphin watching. As I scanned the horizon, though, I caught sight of something a little smaller, a little different: a man.

No, wait, it wasn’t just a man. It was Phoenix. No, wait, it wasn’t just him. He had a blue tail fin.

At first, I paid him no mind. Clearly, he’s not coming this way, so I have no reason to worry……

Oh, God! He has seen me and is waving a hand. And now he’s coming over…!

I instinctively fetched my harpoon, which I didn’t (and still don’t) even know how it got there, and threw it at him with all my might. It didn’t even come close to hitting. I saw him dive back underwater.

I didn’t see him come back up, so I zipped off to retrieve my harpoon that I stupidly did not tie to anything.

As I was searching for it, he reappeared right beside my boat. He was making a confused look.

So I loaded a harpoon gun that I apparently had and fired it at him, point-blank. Again, he dodged. But this time, he didn’t come back. I saw him swimming away and sighed in relief.

Continued from this post.

So, I mentioned that I was teacher’s assistant to Professor Edgeworth. People kept calling me the teacher’s pet since I’d often be seen following him around.

After all his classes were finished for the day, I was in his office filing through some exams and grading them. (This was for a class different from mine, so it was okay.) And I came upon a page where one of the students had slipped in a pink envelope with a heart sticker into the pile.

It was addressed to the professor, of course. I felt the temptation of curiosity, but decided it was only fair to let him know first.

I brought it directly to him at his desk and casually mentioned he had a love letter. He gave it but a single glance and then: “Scrap it.”

Even I felt the sting of that brutal stab. “Say, Professor, you didn’t even look inside. Have you seen it before?”

“Plenty of times. A certain young lady from a previous term has been pursuing me for attention, and she thinks writing these letters will reach out to me, but I have no time to address clingy people.”

Ouch, what a tragedy. I obliged, but before I trashed it, I felt it was only fair to give it a look. So I opened it up and read it.

The letter itself was well crafted and the handwriting, neat and elegant. Interestingly, it was also written entirely in Japanese, but I was able to read most of it. I’m not much of a romanticist, but I can appreciate some fair poetry.

And then, at the very end, the sender leaves a final plea… hoping that he would reconsider tweaking her grade from a B+ to an A- because “it’s only a few more points”.