These are all requests by Lord Blackquill. I thought it best to put them in one big post rather then a bunch of asks.
O Hero: I will write about my character mourning yours.
He'd failed Simon. Having attended his execution yesterday Miles now sat at work. Having made himself come in to file the final papers about the younger Prosecutor's fate. His mind contorted and twisted. Wanting it to go away. To simply disappear. To have found some loop hole in the case. Miles wanted to believe that the truth could always be revealed. But today-- It was too late. Today the time had passed. Today he had failed his co-worker. Miles simply sat at the desk. His face buried into his sleeves. Unable to really work. Unable to finish the files. He wanted someone to blame-- but there was only himself. Miles had promised to get Simon out... he wouldn't soon forgive himself for failing at that. It was a blow to the Prosecution office, to his pride and to his now dead co-worker.
Thus he finally gave in. Leaving the office numbly he announced he was going home sick. No one questioned or stopped it. Knowing that he shouldn't have driven in and shouldn't be driving home. Instead he drove to Wright Agency. The door opened. The place was silent, lacking its zany aura. Lacking any bright spirit. Trucy had let him in. Saying only Phoenix was here. Polly and Athena had the day off. He found his friend buried in the back of his office. On the floor.
Sitting beside him. Taking a sip of the grape juice he so unceremoniously had at his side. It was a slow motion as they glanced at each other. Neither able to stop the tears.
Enamor Me: I will write a fluffy drabble about my character trying to woo yours
Gosh Miles was nervous. What had he been thinking even showing up at the damn Prosecution's summer party. Worst of it was that everyone was in swim shorts. There he was. Simon. The young Prosecutor leapt from the high dive with grace and agility. Flying like a bird before diving like a swan.
Miles wandered closer to the pool. Hovering near the edge in his swim shorts and a dress shirt. Suddenly his was grabbed. He didn't even know who but they wrestled the shirt off of him and he landed gracelessly in the water. Gasping for air his silver hair had him looking like a wet cat. Hissing for air. It wasn't that he couldn't swim. Or even disliked it. Miles was just very private! Thus he blushed slightly as Simon swam quite close. "Finally here Prosecutor Edgeworth!"
He tried to sound confident. "Of course Simon. I came just for you....."
Simon laughed. "You didn't need to do that..."
Miles gave a little smile. "Uhh well no. But I'd heard you were quite the swimmer."
This time Simon blushed a little. "Really?"
Miles nodded. Whispering. "So far you don't disappoint..."
Sleep: I’ll write a drabble of my character snuggling in bed with yours.
Miles sighed heavily. Finally. Simon was out of jail after all this time. It seemed surreal. The man laying beside him. He haden't had anywhere to stay when he got out of jail. Miles had no problem with it. Simply glad that he was alive and well-- on his way to being alright. It was odd. Having him here beside him. The first few nights they had stayed in separate rooms of his house. But Simon's insomnia kept him up. Crying, screaming, ever disturbed. So Miles had thought they could at least try sharing..... maybe the company would ease Simon?
Miles needed to read up more on sleeping disorders... Simon began crying in his sleep again, sure to wake up soon....
Slowly Miles stroked those thick black locks. Delicately petting the mess of white streaks laid in it. Placing Simon's head gently against him as he seemed to be relaxing. Next he knew Simon was clinging. Arms tightly around him. Face against his neck. Even if the man was awake. It seemed better that he had company. No one deserved to suffer alone...
Protect: My character keeps yours safe from harm.
He saw Taka flying ahead. Simon followed at a hurried pace. Miles had to rush as well to keep up. "You and that damn bird." He laughed a bit about it. The 20 year old Prosecutor calling and calling for it to come back. They were out in the park. Making there way back from a Sushi lunch. The new Prosecutor held quite the fondness for sushi. Then it happened.
Taka flew out of harms way.
Miles threw Simon back toward the grass.
Tires squealed and head lights seemed like the sun in his eyes. His arms went up to his face.
"S-ss-ssimon?" Miles couldn't feel anything. Red was partially obscuring his vision....He saw the youth there. Close and far. Red rimmed eyes. He was okay. That was all Miles needed to know.
Gift: Your character or mine, surprising the other with a present
Simon smiled. Looking to Miles with a look he had not seen in a long time. The sort that almost lifted the years of prison. Providing a lightness the filled the air. Simon had that aura about him. A way with filling the gap in his heart. Taka flew onto Miles' shoulder. He gave the bird the usual scratch and greeting.
They talked about work. A soft touch of hands here and there. Nothing out of the ordinary. Neither was quick moving. Both subtle in there gestures. It seemed proper. Moving about Miles' house in the usual ways of cooking, cleaning, quiet conversation. A game of chess. A witty remark. A quiet summer day. A game of cricket in the backyard. Edgeworth sneezing from all the grass pollen. Winning by just a few points. They moved back inside. Miles sneezing and blowing his poor nose into a kerchief.
Simon leaned over behind the sofa. That wicked smile. A hand on his shoulder. Then he held it out. A silver pocket watch. Dangling it above his eyes as if he was a magpie.
Miles smiled back. leaning his face back and rolling his shoulders. "You shouldn't have...."
"To commemorate the times."
He ruffled silver strands and placed in in the pocket of Edgeworth's shirt.
Haunt Me: I'll write a drabble about my character watching over yours [As a ghost]
Miles watched Simon. Standing in front of him as the papers were filed.
The man carried on-- un-noticing of his red suited company. The files were clear.
Miles Edgeworth. Victim, deceased. A single stab wound. Straight through his shoulder blade. Just to the left of his heart. He bled to death slowly over the course of up to an hour.
This crime was professionally organised. Simon's eyes blazed with anger as he sorted through the case over and over. Every tiny detail. Miles whispered.
"Please stop Simon.... I dug too deep and payed the price. I don't need you to avenge me. Keep yourself safe-- help others. Don't go down this path...."
Yet, Miles was powerless to stop. Him. He could only watch from Death and follow him to the bitter end.
