Phoenix Wright (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hobologic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-05-11 08:04 pm
hobologic) wrote in towerofanimus2013-05-11 08:04 pm
The fundamental things apply
Characters: Phoenix Wright and YOU
Setting: Room 4-20; dormitory floors; elevator; floors 14, 28, 32, 37
Format: Starting with prose, will match any format
Summary: Phoenix arrives in the tower and goes exploring.
Warnings: None yet. Will update if necessary.
Room 4-20 and dormitories:
After reading the letters, Phoenix sits on the bed for a while, thinking. It's a lot to take in. It seems like a joke, or a dream. It is, quite frankly, mad. Worlds destroyed? Magical towers? (And just when he'd been looking forward to a spot of nice semi-normalcy.) The problem is, as mad as it is, it feels real. He pinches himself. That doesn't work. He frowns. He doesn't know what to think, but whatever he thinks, it isn't good. Suddenly, he gets up. He changes into his usual clothes, sliding his arms into his hoodie and zipping it up, then pushing his hat on over his spiky hair.
Sitting around feeling upset and confused isn't going to get things done or solve any mysteries. He heads out into the hallway and down the corridors of the dormitories. He has to find out more about this place, and there is no time like the present. He makes his way down the hallways at an unhurried pace, every now and then stopping to examine a wall or a door, or even a suspicious patch of floor. There isn't much to examine here, but he does his best.
The Elevator:
So, it seems you're stuck in the elevator during the long trip down to the first floor. With you is a man wearing a beanie, humming to himself. Off key. He seems quite determined to keep humming, too.
Floor Fourteen:
Phoenix has gone through a number of floors now, and he could use a break.
Violet lemonade isn't grape juice, but he couldn't find any grape juice anywhere, so violet lemonade it is. He'll have to make do. He's brought two whole bottles with him into the media room. With his precious beverages, Phoenix has sat himself down in one of the room's many beanbag chairs. The setting as a whole might be unpleasant, but he does appreciate a good beanbag chair. He's currently playing a car racing game and is doing his best to handle both the game controller and his lemonade bottle.
It's not going very well. Not only are his scores atrocious and his crashes near constant, but the beanbag chair is in imminent danger of being soaked with lemonade. Still, Phoenix continues to concentrate on the game, seemingly unaware of the peril both he and the chair are in. (Or is he?)
Floor Twenty-Eight:
A musician ought to feel right at home on this floor. However, Phoenix isn't entirely at ease, much as he isn't entirely a musician. He gives the organ at the center a wide berth, but manages to find an ordinary looking piano that's more his speed. With a deep breath, he sits down and begins to play. The resulting sound could be called a song if it weren't so garbled and bewilderingly played. As it is, it's just barely identifiable as this tune.
Floor Thirty-Two:
He's surprised to see the outside floors. They defy all rules of architecture and logic. He shouldn't be surprised, he knows, not after all he's seen, but he is, nonetheless.
He makes his way out onto the floating island warily, but nothing happens. Nothing dangerous appears. He makes his way across the island, thoughtfully. He has a lot to think about, here. Playing video games and playing the piano haven't done much to relax him, and his investigations have come to nothing so far. Nothing but more weirdness. He keeps walking. He doesn't stop until he stumbles upon a cluster of plants, bearing fruit.
He pauses to study them. Grapes. There's something alluring about them. He knows, right away, that he shouldn't risk eating them. Nonetheless, he leans down to pick one, curious. He turns it over in his fingers. They seem like perfectly normal grapes. They smell good, too. Phoenix sighs. Now, this is just cruel.
Setting: Room 4-20; dormitory floors; elevator; floors 14, 28, 32, 37
Format: Starting with prose, will match any format
Summary: Phoenix arrives in the tower and goes exploring.
Warnings: None yet. Will update if necessary.
Room 4-20 and dormitories:
After reading the letters, Phoenix sits on the bed for a while, thinking. It's a lot to take in. It seems like a joke, or a dream. It is, quite frankly, mad. Worlds destroyed? Magical towers? (And just when he'd been looking forward to a spot of nice semi-normalcy.) The problem is, as mad as it is, it feels real. He pinches himself. That doesn't work. He frowns. He doesn't know what to think, but whatever he thinks, it isn't good. Suddenly, he gets up. He changes into his usual clothes, sliding his arms into his hoodie and zipping it up, then pushing his hat on over his spiky hair.
Sitting around feeling upset and confused isn't going to get things done or solve any mysteries. He heads out into the hallway and down the corridors of the dormitories. He has to find out more about this place, and there is no time like the present. He makes his way down the hallways at an unhurried pace, every now and then stopping to examine a wall or a door, or even a suspicious patch of floor. There isn't much to examine here, but he does his best.
The Elevator:
So, it seems you're stuck in the elevator during the long trip down to the first floor. With you is a man wearing a beanie, humming to himself. Off key. He seems quite determined to keep humming, too.
Floor Fourteen:
Phoenix has gone through a number of floors now, and he could use a break.
Violet lemonade isn't grape juice, but he couldn't find any grape juice anywhere, so violet lemonade it is. He'll have to make do. He's brought two whole bottles with him into the media room. With his precious beverages, Phoenix has sat himself down in one of the room's many beanbag chairs. The setting as a whole might be unpleasant, but he does appreciate a good beanbag chair. He's currently playing a car racing game and is doing his best to handle both the game controller and his lemonade bottle.
It's not going very well. Not only are his scores atrocious and his crashes near constant, but the beanbag chair is in imminent danger of being soaked with lemonade. Still, Phoenix continues to concentrate on the game, seemingly unaware of the peril both he and the chair are in. (Or is he?)
Floor Twenty-Eight:
A musician ought to feel right at home on this floor. However, Phoenix isn't entirely at ease, much as he isn't entirely a musician. He gives the organ at the center a wide berth, but manages to find an ordinary looking piano that's more his speed. With a deep breath, he sits down and begins to play. The resulting sound could be called a song if it weren't so garbled and bewilderingly played. As it is, it's just barely identifiable as this tune.
Floor Thirty-Two:
He's surprised to see the outside floors. They defy all rules of architecture and logic. He shouldn't be surprised, he knows, not after all he's seen, but he is, nonetheless.
He makes his way out onto the floating island warily, but nothing happens. Nothing dangerous appears. He makes his way across the island, thoughtfully. He has a lot to think about, here. Playing video games and playing the piano haven't done much to relax him, and his investigations have come to nothing so far. Nothing but more weirdness. He keeps walking. He doesn't stop until he stumbles upon a cluster of plants, bearing fruit.
He pauses to study them. Grapes. There's something alluring about them. He knows, right away, that he shouldn't risk eating them. Nonetheless, he leans down to pick one, curious. He turns it over in his fingers. They seem like perfectly normal grapes. They smell good, too. Phoenix sighs. Now, this is just cruel.
Floor 32
Dave leans over to pick one off. If Phoenix is too wary to eat it, Dave will eat one fine. Like some damn poison tester.
But he's never gotten any trouble for eating anything on the different floors.
no subject
"Thanks for the advice. I owe you one." Or he will, if he survives his rash act of eating. The grape does taste good and very much like a normal grape, although it isn't quite the same as juice. He picks another.
However, he's doesn't eat it yet, still puzzling over one of the stranger things he'd just heard. "What do you mean, I wouldn't die? I'm guessing that's not a poetic metaphor." Though you can't be too careful. Some people like to overuse metaphors, he knows.
no subject
"You'd figure it out once you've been here long enough. I'm just speeding up the process." Missy nudges Phoenix with her paw. She gets excited about meeting new people. It's one reason why Dave's willing to talk to people he doesn't recognize.
"Well you'd just wake up in your bed good as new. It's like some magical surgery where they remove our souls and replace them into new bodies. We're like living Barbie dolls and mass produced." He's mostly kidding about being mass produced, but the soul thing is true. "But you can't die permanently here is what I'm getting at. You're stuck here for the long joyride."
sorry for the slowness!
"I appreciate the speed-up. I'd like to learn as fast as I can, so any more accelerating you can do would be welcome."
Phoenix smiles down at Missy, who seems friendly enough, though he's never seen anything like her before. "Nice fox--dog--thing."
He tries to wrap his head around the whole magical surgery, brought back to life thing. "That's--how can that even be possible? Not that I'm doubting you. And not that I want to die." He looks down at himself. "I feel pretty real." He looks and feels just the same as always, in fact. He pinches himself. But yes, it feels just like normal. And he doesn't wake up from this bad dream, unfortunately. "There's evidence to prove it, I assume?"
More like Im sorry. Wasnt really online this week umu;
"Thanks. To be honest, I'm not sure what she is. I got her as a gift though. Name is Missy." Missy bumps her nose against Phoenix playfully.
"There was evidence. A video recording of the process used to be around, but it got erased by the people in charge. They don't really want people knowing about it, i guess. Tough luck, but there's a lot of people who can vouch for it, if you aren't completely sold." It was actually pretty terrifying to witness. Like, that was definitely something you didn't really want to see. More so the fact that you watched it happen to your friends while they were alive. "But you aren't any less real. I'm not sure how they can keep doing it."