Tempest Bound: This is only the 'prologue' of sort - I have more written, but this is just to test the waters. I am not making it up as I go along, as Ace Attorney's cases are planned out so methodically I can't even comprehend.

This is my attempt at a full 'game', despite the title only being of the case. Sorry. I have no title, so

So, if people like it, great! I'll be posting more. If not, s'cool, too.

A few things about this:

Yes, there will be OCs - original characters - hence, non-cannon characters. If you don't like, don't read, but I have attempted to stay within the bounds which the AA universe has kept within, especially concerning names *coughpunscough*

What I would normally write as italicized text is instead all caps - as it is in-game

Lastly, the italics here are used to mark inner thoughts, flashbacks (which will themselves be separated from the rest of the text with a line break), and the small 'cinematic' at the beginning of each case (again, separated from the rest of the text)

Let's just jump into things~

A gunshot.

Someone is pleading, begging for their life. They are cracked across the face with a pistol. A hiss of, "Tell me!"

"It wasn't me—"

The cool metal of the muzzle of a cocked gun presses to the forehead of the quivering and prostrated form. "You know that isn't true."

"I didn't—"

Another gunshot, and then silence. The body tips over, spills.

The woman kicks a leg out of the way as she leaves the interrogation room, and drops the gun, carelessly, on the stone floor. She doesn't bother closing the door behind her.

June 20, 9:49 AM

District Court

Defendant Lobby No. 1

Ah, to be at the courtroom on trial day.

Don't you just love the smell of anxiety in the morning?

My name's Phoenix Wright. I'm a defense attorney, and today is trial day—not for me, of course. For my client. My client, who's sitting over there, glumly staring down at her hands.

And hooked up to an IV drip.

"Ms. Fink, everything will work out. You'll be a free man—I mean, woman. Don't worry!" That's me, ignoring the bad feeling in my gut.

She shakes her head weakly. "I wish I had your optimism, Mr. Wright, I really do." She looks up. "But my fingerprints are on the murder weapon."

"But there's a reason they're there." Smile, Phoenix. Do it.

"Because it's my gun, you mean?"

I manage a lopsided, twitchy smile. "W-What else?"

She sighs, nearly raising her hand to her forehead, but then her handcuffs pull her other hand, too, and she stops. "You're not very good at building morale, Mr. Wright."

She's right. Athena's the one for the job. Speaking of, where IS Athena?

"Defendant, defense," the bailiff by the courtroom doors says, "the trial will begin in a few minutes. Please proceed into the courtroom."

Ms. Fink is already being helped up and lead by her elbow by another bailiff—she can't even stand on her own—but I'm hanging back by the door. "Just wait a second," I'm saying, "wait one second, she'll be here—"

The door bumps into my back. "Boss," says the voice from behind the oak, muffled and annoyed, "you're going to have to move out of the way if you want my help in court today."

"A-Athena!" I'm nearly batted away as the door pushes open.

Athena rolls her eyes at me before turning her attention on our client. "Ms. Fink! Are you feeling all right?"

She shrugs, showing her manacled wrists. "As much as one could expect, I suppose."

"No, I mean about your injuries."

Ms. Fink blinks, looking surprised. "Oh. Well, they've put me on this drip—painkillers, they said. So I feel fine."

I clear my throat. "Don't painkillers, er...make your mind a bit fuzzy? Is that the best idea for trial day?"

Athena gasps and glares at me. "How can you say that, Boss? Do you WANT Ms. Fink in more pain than she already is?"

Ms. Fink frowns. "'More pain'? I said I'm fine, Ms. Cykes."

Athena grins and is about to explain—super hearing, voice of the heart, Widget, experience—but the bailiff cuts her off before she's able to breathe out a single syllable. "Court will begin shortly. Please proceed to the courtroom."

Athena forgets about analytical psychology in favor of saying, "We'll get you free, Ms. Fink, don't you worry!"

Ms. Fink simply bows her head and allows herself to be lead into the courtroom.

To be continued...