Hey, all. Since I have no idea where I put this, I'm dropping it here. This is a story I wrote regarding some of my characters, and whatever. Enjoy.
That Damned Ace
5:34 PM. God knows how long she's walked. The date would be branded eternally into Athena Cykes's mind: The seventeenth of February, the day Trucy Wright had been tried for murder. More importantly, the day Athena failed to win that trial. The day that her former boss's daughter was sentenced for something she was innocent of. Former boss's...It had only been, what, a few weeks since the information had slipped? All of it had just...happened. No warning came, nothing signaled the coming storm. It had just happened while she looked away, and just like that they were gone. They were gone, and Athena was the last one left. They had left quietly. Apollo? Who knew where he had gone. He had simply vanished, leaving no trace behind. And Phoenix, while he and Athena had exchanged parting words, there was something...off about him, as if he hadn't been there. As if he was no longer Phoenix Wright, but simply a different entity altogether. His voice had sounded so hollow, and even now they would constantly echo in Athena's mind, blurring together to form a constant droning of empty words. Athena finally brings herself to sit down on a park bench, her back to the setting sun. This wasn't her fault. But Trucy could have been saved. This wasn't a missed opportunity, either, Athena KNEW this was coming, she KNEW that this path could have been avoided. She could have prevented another wrongful death, and yet she lost, she lost the trial so spectacularly. Trucy was on death row. It was Athena's fault. She could have been saved. Everything was wrong, all because of one card, one small piece of evidence. ...Forged evidence. Something that happened long ago, back when she wasn't there to stop this. Athena of all people knew what it was like to see one's facade break. To see the moment when a person physically cracks, cracks in such a way that one could practically hear it if they took a closer listen. Even when her own smile finally broke, every time it happened, the crack was there, and there were always two solutions to this: Tear it down or patch it up. Nobody was quite sure what to do. Show what's behind that mask, yet put so many emotions on the line? Or quietly regress to what one used to be? She didn't get to see this moment in anybody during the incident. Yet, had she been there to see him, she would have seen the look in Apollo's eyes: Tired. Desperate to rebuild. Cold, even. She had missed the chance to see this. Had she been there, who knows? Maybe Apollo's whereabouts would at least be known. Questions buzzed through Athena's mind, desperate as she was to clear it, yet there was a point where she finally asked herself one important question. Could Trucy be saved? Wouldn't that take a miracle. A real miracle. Unlike that damned ace.
That Damned Ace
5:34 PM. God knows how long she's walked. The date would be branded eternally into Athena Cykes's mind: The seventeenth of February, the day Trucy Wright had been tried for murder. More importantly, the day Athena failed to win that trial. The day that her former boss's daughter was sentenced for something she was innocent of. Former boss's...It had only been, what, a few weeks since the information had slipped? All of it had just...happened. No warning came, nothing signaled the coming storm. It had just happened while she looked away, and just like that they were gone. They were gone, and Athena was the last one left. They had left quietly. Apollo? Who knew where he had gone. He had simply vanished, leaving no trace behind. And Phoenix, while he and Athena had exchanged parting words, there was something...off about him, as if he hadn't been there. As if he was no longer Phoenix Wright, but simply a different entity altogether. His voice had sounded so hollow, and even now they would constantly echo in Athena's mind, blurring together to form a constant droning of empty words. Athena finally brings herself to sit down on a park bench, her back to the setting sun. This wasn't her fault. But Trucy could have been saved. This wasn't a missed opportunity, either, Athena KNEW this was coming, she KNEW that this path could have been avoided. She could have prevented another wrongful death, and yet she lost, she lost the trial so spectacularly. Trucy was on death row. It was Athena's fault. She could have been saved. Everything was wrong, all because of one card, one small piece of evidence. ...Forged evidence. Something that happened long ago, back when she wasn't there to stop this. Athena of all people knew what it was like to see one's facade break. To see the moment when a person physically cracks, cracks in such a way that one could practically hear it if they took a closer listen. Even when her own smile finally broke, every time it happened, the crack was there, and there were always two solutions to this: Tear it down or patch it up. Nobody was quite sure what to do. Show what's behind that mask, yet put so many emotions on the line? Or quietly regress to what one used to be? She didn't get to see this moment in anybody during the incident. Yet, had she been there to see him, she would have seen the look in Apollo's eyes: Tired. Desperate to rebuild. Cold, even. She had missed the chance to see this. Had she been there, who knows? Maybe Apollo's whereabouts would at least be known. Questions buzzed through Athena's mind, desperate as she was to clear it, yet there was a point where she finally asked herself one important question. Could Trucy be saved? Wouldn't that take a miracle. A real miracle. Unlike that damned ace.
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