#nongs

Dandenong dirt roads, for Spoxe.

Prison, a place of so many to manipulate and threaten. It was paradise for Manfred. It was to his ecstatic pleasure that he figured out that he could make anyone do anything he wanted for him. Just took a bit of blackmail here, bit of lying there. Long story short, someone helped the old bastard out of prison. 

 And now, here he was, looking for someone else to torture. His son. He didn't care what Franziska had to say about him being a her. Queer folk were disgusting to him, and he could never keep his mouth shut about it. 

  Edgeworth was surprised, he supposed, to see the newly-released man back in the Prosecutor's Office after such a short time.

  He'd been half-jogging, half-walking his way down the inhumane amount of floors between his office and the main floor, on some rather unimportant, easily forgotten errand, when he'd noticed the familiar black-and-white figure. He stopped and paused, before stating a rather curt greeting.

  "Ah, Prosecutor Blackquill. A pleasure to have you back in the office so soon."

  Another pause, as he debated whether or not to continue the conversation, or leave it at that.

  "This may be more than I should be delving into, but I'm, ah, curious. It hasn't been long since you were proven innocent, and I'm surprised you've opted to return to work instead of spend more time with friends and family...?"