perceivesjustice: (determined: put on your war paint)
[personal profile] perceivesjustice
[It's been a while since That Case wrapped up. That Case meaning the one that Mr. Wright managed to pull off with that Jurist System he'd been working on for so long (not that it stuck around for very long, seeing as Mr. Wright is not actually a lawyer and technically does not have much to do with the legal world anymore), the one where Apollo could barely find his voice as it came to a close. Flying through court cases by the seat of his pants is definitely not something Apollo would like to repeat, and yet he had found himself doing it over and over.

But for now... He's taking a break. Helping around the office. Aiding Trucy with her new tricks (mostly of his own volition). Supervising Mr. Wright and his efforts to take the bar exam again. But, of course, he's found that there is yet another loose end he needs to tie up.

Prosecutor Klavier Gavin... While no longer taking the music world by storm, he's still rocking the legal world. And although Apollo has seen it fit to keep up with the current events in their shared territory, Apollo had deemed it more appropriate to give his rival some space as of late, considering he had lost some important people in the course of their time battling each other. But seeing as some time has passed, Apollo has become... worried, of all things. Gavin is a grown man, and a very capable one at that. Apollo owes him his thanks at the very least, for all Gavin has done for him. However, he hasn't heard a word from him, and his imagination is starting to take him in places he'd rather not go.

The best course of action, in this case, is to put those thoughts to rest and see the man himself. It wouldn't be very polite of him to storm Gavin's front step, so Apollo goes for the next best thing: his office. Gavin's secretary lets him approach the office door, blank-faced and almost unhelpful. Still, it's better than nothing, and so Apollo will hang onto that thought as he knocks on the door.
]
demotivation: (Default)
[personal profile] demotivation
 ["We're really all that made it?"

The question echoes through Grif's head, bouncing around the walls of his skull. No matter how much food he stuffs into his body, the ringing of those words continues, filling him up with something much worse than plaque in his arteries. Even if the others are alive, he's not sure how long that will last, or how long they will last. The uncertainty of their fate - of everyone's fate - has never sat particularly well with Grif-- it rolls around in his stomach like cold leftovers. But not seeing them, losing all contact, is a severed link he's not prepared for.

Top that off the the responsibility of leading and Grif feels like he's going to be sick.

Their quarters are small and hardly private, but at least they're separated by team color, and that adds some familiarity to this whole mess. They're supposed to meet the new recruits tomorrow; Kimball let them off for the rest of the day so they can recover. Not that Grif can see that happening any time soon.

He barely makes it to his cot before he rubs a hand over the front of his helmet
.]

Simmons, I swear to christ, this better be a dream. Make that a nightmare, goddammit, so wake me up already!
un_beau_coquin: (c'est vrai que je suis très très bon)
[personal profile] un_beau_coquin
[It takes a while to clean up the rubble from the Great Bread Incident. While cleaning isn't exactly Spy's forte, he's not too much of an asshole that he won't help. In the end, it's taken care of thanks to a few well-placed bombs and a very inconspicuous pile of rocks covering the gaping hole in the ground.

However, it's mostly forgotten in favor of something much more pressing, that matter being one Miss Pauling. Sure, before Scout came to him in desperation, he never spared her a second thought, but after seeing her in action? Now she has definitely raised a few red flags in his head.

Sure, he knows she's basically the Administrator's lap dog, but he had no idea her list of chores is so... intense. Back when the blast had still been fresh, he'd overheard her speaking to Scout. Her unusual to-do list had been pretty much drilled into his head by Scout, anyway, since he'd been  over the moon after the incident, hanging around Spy like a puppy as he barked off triumphant whoops of his success.

Or something. Unfortunately for Spy, he has a very good sense of hearing coupled with a good memory.

Now Spy wouldn't be a very good Spy if he lacked intel, so he's done some digging... Only to hit a brick wall. Every. Single. Time. He doesn't think he's hit this many pages of "CLASSIFIED" since he tried to access the intel files way back when he was a rookie.

Looks like he'll have to do this the old fashion way.

On his way out of the base and to his car, he catches up with Scout.
]

Hé, connard. In case you 'ad zhe burning desire to know - and, do not deny it, you do - I will be spending some time today to track down your amoureuse. Do not worry about repaying me; I was feeling quite generous today, so do not zhink much of it.
tetraslash: (quiet: truth lies only if you realize)
[personal profile] tetraslash
[As night falls and Lloyd finishes wandering around the streets of Meltokio (man, that city is a lot bigger than he imagined, though not quite as big as Welgaia, and definitely livelier and louder and full of more people who appreciate food - just because angels don't need it doesn't mean he can't enjoy it! - and just all around more fun), he almost flies back to Zelos' mansion before remembering that it's probably a bad idea to do that.

While he promised that he wouldn't get too distracted, he can't help it. Everything's just more colorful down here and it's been so long since he's been able to dabble in the little things. It doesn't mean that he's forgotten what he needs to do down here; if he can navigate this world and figure out a way to prevent Zelos from completing his transformation, he should be set. Right?

The angel exchanges small talk with Sheena when he arrives. While she doesn't seem too happy to be accompanying the oh so popular Chosen, he can pick up genuine concern from her. He dodges all the questions about his origins with his usual grace (in other words, close to none) and bids her goodnight.

The little one wishes him goodnight when he passes and leaves it at that.

Lloyd appreciates the room he's given, but decides to spend the evening on the balcony, waiting for the Chosen to come home. He sits on the railing, letting night cloak him as he watches the courtyard.
]

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