Hey, guys! I actually attempted a Narumitsu AU. Basically, all of the prosecutors are a news team, and all of the WAA are a news team, and there's another one in my headcanon that's Grossberg + Gregory + Raymond Shields, though that station wasn't mentioned.
Things to know about this AU:
-Phoenix never got disbarred, nor was his record scathed in any way.
-DL-6 happened, only that Gregory, Manfred, and Edgeworth were in the elevator together and Manfred failed to get away with it. He is a mere weatherman, not a criminal genius.
-This is a dystopian AU, because there are no lawyers for real justice. Most defendants Phoenix rescued in the RU are now imprisoned.
-Kristoph and Gregory are the only attorneys who remain attorneys in this AU.
This was actually really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own neither Ace Attorney nor the many Anchorman quotes I totally stole.
(O)
It was a beautiful morning in Los Angeles. Skies were blue, the birds were singing, and I was 100% sure that it was going to rain.
"What do you mean it's going to rain?" Maya whined.
"Can't you feel it? That breeze… It just reeks of precipitation."
"It smells like sunshine and rainbows!"
"Rainbows come from rain," I reminded her. "I, too, sense a rainbow in the making."
"You're no fun. You know, tabloids are saying that Trucy can control the weather with her magic, and that's why you're never wrong when it comes to weather."
"…She can shoot a cat out of a gun, sure, but control the weather?" I asked.
"I know! People are even getting mad at her whenever it rains."
"Even if she did control the rain, I'd be proud of her. It takes some rain to get these Japanese cherry trees to bloom in L.A., you know. People are so ungrateful."
"Hey, Mr. Wright! The Doppler's up!" Ema called.
"Great," I said. "What's it saying?"
"It's totally clear… It looks like we're in for sunny skies," she said.
"Oh, but Nick thinks it's going to rain!" Maya replied.
"That's not what the evidence says," Ema said unenthusiastically. "Scientifically speaking."
"Since when has Nick ever relied on science?" Maya asked.
"Hey, I roll with it on most days," I replied. "But it's going to rain today. I just know it." I grinned. "They've done studies, you know. They say that 60% of the time, the Doppler radar's correct every time. That's not very accurate."
Ema sighed. "One day science will catch up to you, Mr. Wright. Let's just hope it does before you retire, or the citizens of Los Angeles might actually have to carry an umbrella with them on days when it isn't going to rain."
"Or they might have to turn on their headlights while they're driving because they didn't know that it was going to start raining beforehand!" Maya exclaimed.
"Woah, that escalated quickly," I said. "Do you know how dangerous it is to turn on your headlights while driving? They say that four people have died while doing it!"
"That would be a horrible way to die, scientifically speaking," Ema replied.
"Hey, boss!" someone exclaimed. I turned around to see Athena and Apollo at the door. "We've got a great news story! Apollo's friend let us in on the fact that the Space Center is getting ready to launch their new rocket! We've even got an interview with Mr. Starbuck himself, talking about how he's trying to overcome the fears of the disastrous launch of six years ago!"
"Woah, kids, make sure to keep that story rated G. We don't want any kids to be deprived of the news just because our descriptions got a little gorey."
"Hmph, it's like you think we're going to get an M rating just for showing a little blood," Athena complained. "Or," she gasped, " A terrorist attack. With bombs."
"Athena! Watch your mouth!" Maya exclaimed. "We don't want to scare off little kids with that sort of thing. We'll leave the crude sort of news to the von Karmas."
Everyone shuddered. Karma News, our rival news team, had featured some of the most horrible news around, claiming that it was their duty to use the freedom of the press to release everything. While we made it our goal to make mornings brighter with accurate weather and encouraging news, Franziska and her team crushed happiness by telling stories of murder and sadness. There was only one member of that channel's news that was moderately respectable, and that was their stuck-up weatherman who happened to live with me and wear a wedding ring that looked suspiciously like the one I wore.
"I can't believe you married their weatherman," Athena said. "Sure, he's kind of cute, and he himself isn't so bad, but you basically married into melancholy murder stories. Miles has got to be at least a little bit scarred by the news he wakes up to every morning."
"He loves the truth," I said sadly. "He doesn't want to be blissfully ignorant about the world we live in, and I think that's brave. Sad, but brave."
There was a moment of silence as we all thought about the horrible stories that Karma News had released to the public, and how it must affect poor Miles.
"Hey," Ema said softly. "Let's cheer up. It's almost seven, and the city is relying on us to make their day better before they go to work."
"Yeah," I said. "Let's leave the sad stuff for Karma News at Eight."
Apollo and Athena took their seats behind their desk, Maya and I took our spots by the green screen, and Ema walked behind the camera and began tampering with it. Everything ready, we all put on our best smiles and stared at the clock, burning 6:59 into our eyes.
Then, the numbers changed.
(O)
"Good morning, L.A.!" came a familiar voice from the TV at the Karma News station.
"Offering you the best of news and the most accurate of weather, you've come to the Wright Place!"
"The best of news? Sugarcoating the truth is a foolish act of foolery that fools only the most foolish of fools," Franziska complained.
"I don't get why they do it, pal!" Gumshoe complained. "They're all such good people, but they never confront the truth! The people of L.A. need to know what goes on within the city so they can protect themselves."
"Indeed," I said. "The news is a serious matter, and the people don't watch because they feel obligated to know about the newest animal at the Berry Big Circus. No, they watch to know what happened to Russell Berry, to know why Max Galactica was never to be trusted in the first place."
The anchors on the television stopped talking, and we stopped to listen to the weather. We almost always agreed, and the Doppler had never been clearer: the people of Los Angeles had sunny skies to look forward to.
"Pack up your umbrellas, L.A., because it's going to pour later today!"
"Pour?! Where is his evidence? That is completely baseless!" I exclaimed. Franziska and Gumshoe looked at me suspiciously, and I pulled up the Doppler. "There isn't a single cloud on the radar!" I'd been up since four in order to get the most accurate reading possible, and somehow—perhaps because he'd been snoring until I'd left at six—I knew that Wright couldn't have studied it for long.
"The Wrights never look at the evidence," Franziska said, shaking her head. "Think of all of the people who will be carrying their umbrellas on a perfectly sunny day! Do they even know how many people are counting on them?"
"He probably slept in until six-thirty again," I complained.
"Why did you marry him, again?" Franziska asked, an almost vicious look on her face. "He's a somewhat attractive man, I suppose, but you've married into blissful ignorance in its purest form."
"I can't quite remember," I replied. "Though I suppose opposites attract."
"Hmph. You don't see me marrying their anchorman," she said.
"And I haven't married their camerawoman!" Gumshoe said.
"That's probably because you're far too enamored with our reporter," I said. "Who is, in case you haven't noticed, late."
Speaking of the devil, I heard the door burst open as Klavier and Maggey began speaking excitedly, far too loudly and completely incomprehensibly.
"Where have you been?" Franziska asked. "We take pride in our work, you know!"
"Ja, we've all heard about your father's 40 year streak of perfectly forecasting the weather," Klavier said boredly. "Achtung, we've stumbled upon a brilliant story, and we've even earned ourselves an interview!"
"It better be brilliant, if it made you two ten minutes late," Franziska said, rubbing her temples.
"A killer whale bludgeoned the owner of the Shipshape Aquarium to death, sir!" Maggey exclaimed. "And we've got an interview with the owner of the whale—she's totally nuts, sir!"
"Are you reporting a murder or a comedy show?" Franziska asked. "Because the people of Los Angeles rely on us for precision and succinctness, not foolish laughter. We aren't the Wright Place."
"Nein, we're losing viewers, fraulein. I think it's good to incorporate a bit of entertainment into our usual routine," Klavier chipped in.
"As long as 'entertainment' doesn't involve fifteen minute news stories about a gay frenchman and his horrible restaurant, I think I'll cope," she muttered.
We all settled down to watch the Wright Place's news broadcast, occasionally throwing in sarcastic comments and insults as we watched. It was truly a perfect morning, the sun shining, the birds chirping, and me feeling convinced that for the first time in his career, Wright would fail to make an accurate prediction.
"Stay classy, Los Angeles," Apollo finally said, causing Gumshoe to instinctively wake up, Klavier to shut of the T.V., and Maggey to jump to her feet.
"Five minutes, everyone!"
The whole news team gathered their notes together, studying them intently, and I took one last glance at the Doppler radar, which still looked clear. I can't be wrong, can I?
Walking over to the green screen, I prepared a short speech about how wonderful of a day it would be, sun shining and most definitely not raining, you fantastical catastrophe.
"All right, pals! Airing in 3… 2…" Gumshoe signaled the "1" with a silent cue, and Franziska began to speak.
It won't rain. I'm sure of it.
(O)
Patting Apollo on the back, I stepped out the door and took the elevator down to the ground floor of the news tower. Walking out the door, I was greeted with warm sunshine, and I looked into the sky to find one lonely, puffy cloud. See? The rain is coming, one sky marshmallow at a time.
I walked home to my classy apartment, which was literally across the street from work, and took the elevator up to the twelfth floor, feeling a little guilty about how easy it was for me to get to my room, unlike Miles. I opened the door to room 1202 and breathed in the scent of Miles Edgeworth and dirty socks that I should probably have cleaned up days before. Heh. Joke's on him.
I turned on the TV to watch the news and walked into the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat. Miles never bought any food I knew how to deal with. Frozen meat? Whole tomatoes? Lettuce? Somehow he always managed to turn it into something edible, but my attempts to microwave together a burger out of raw meat and tomatoes had never ended well.
This time, however, there was an obstacle. "Pess?" The fluffy dog looked up at me guiltily, and I walked over to find exactly why she was giving me that look. "What? You pooped in the refrigerator? And you ate the whole wheel of cheese? How'd you do that? Heck, I'm not even mad; that's amazing." Pess merely stuck her tongue out at me, happily panting as I scratched behind her ears. "I've got to clean this up now, though. I hope that cheese doesn't get to you later."
Grabbing some paper towels, I overheard Miles talking over the television. "The doppler looks completely clear, Los Angeles. I'd recommend that you take some time to enjoy the beautiful weather, whether that means taking out your bicycles, grabbing a picnic basket, or merely getting an extension cord so you may use your laptops outside."
"Nerd," I said, walking over to the fridge to clean up the Pess mess. Maybe I should take him out on a picnic. He technically suggested it. I'll wear my rain jacket, and he can see what his little doppler radar can do for him.
Grinning to myself, I finished cleaning up and attempted to make some sandwiches, putting them in a plastic bucket after my attempts to find a picnic basket had failed. And he says I'm not romantic. I sat down on the couch, a cup of coffee in hand, hoping that the news wouldn't be too gruesome.
"Reporting from Shipshape Aquarium, Kay Faraday here, speaking with the one and only Sasha Buckler! Sasha, it's great to meet you. I heard there's some trouble going on around the aquarium?"
"The captain… He was found dead in Orla's tank, and some seaweed heads think Orla did it! Orla's so sad without the captain here… And now they're gonna put her down!"
I turned off the TV, not wanting to hear the details. The news was always so sad, and no matter how we reported it, we could never change it. Perhaps that's why the von Karmas were so fierce about making people aware, because there had to be someone with the power to make things better.
...Right?
I sighed, looking down at my sandwiches.
...I'm getting takeout and a proper picnic basket.
(O)
Looking up into the sky anxiously, I wondered if Wright had been right. No… It's completely ludicrous. There were a few white, puffy clouds in the sky, which had not been on the doppler earlier, but they seemed harmless enough.
He's just making me paranoid.
Driving home, I pulled into the apartment's parking complex only to find Wright standing there with a picnic basket and a ridiculous puffy blue rain jacket.
"What are you doing? You look like a blueberry," I told him.
"You said that it was perfect weather for a picnic. So I've got takeout in a picnic basket, and I'm going to have a nice romantic lunch in the park with the love of my life."
"Take that jacket off. It's not going to rain, and you know it."
"Quite the contrary. The air is singing of bluesy rain! Come on, let's go. I don't know how long this nice weather will last."
I sighed, opening the passenger door and letting him in. "We have all day, at the very least."
"In your dreams."
"Wright, you're impossible," I sighed, stepping on the gas.
"Impossibly amazing." You are a five-year-old.
"Wright, do you understand how many people are relying on you to give them accurate weather readings? You can't ignore what the facts are telling you."
"Hey, if people want the facts, they can look at your channel. My channel is dedicated to telling people the truth."
"What is the difference?!"
"You'll see in a little bit, when you're soaking wet and I'm laughing at you."
"The only reason I'll be laughed at today is because I'm spending my time with a blueberry."
We continued to banter back and forth a bit as I drove to Gourd Lake, talking about the weather not as an awkward ice breaker but arguing about it like a standard married couple. Ironic? Perhaps. But then again, I did marry Mr. Wright.
Once we finally arrived at the entrance, I parked the car and headed immediately to the beach. Any weatherman should know that the air around a beach is cooler than its surroundings, and the scorching, very much not obscured by rain clouds sun was making it uncomfortably hot. I'd hope Wright would know that, but it seems he got his license from a magic conch shell.
"This wasn't a bad idea of yours," Phoenix said as we began unpacking whatever mystery was in his picnic basket.
"It wasn't exactly my idea to implement it. It was merely a passing thought."
"Come on, your alarm went off at four this morning. I'm sure you had every word planned out in intense detail."
"I was merely attempting to get an accurate weather reading."
"And see where that's gotten you?" Phoenix said smugly.
"I hate to inform you, but it hasn't began to rain yet."
"...Yet." He grinned. "But do you see those clouds?" He pointed upwards. "That looks like a nimbostratus to me. Rain is coming, Edgeworth." He waved his fingers around to imitate rain falling.
"It's a mere stratus cloud."
"No, it's definitely a nimbostratus."
"...There really isn't much of a difference."
"There totally is!"
"You have to look at the essence of it. A nimbostratus is a type of stratus cloud, so me calling a nimbostratus cloud a stratus cloud is still factually accurate," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but you're losing information! For Mr. Scientific cloud analyzer, you should know that documenting clouds correctly is crucial."
"Regardless, that cloud is harmless."
"You know that if it's a nimbostratus, I'm right and there's rain coming. You just don't want to admit it."
"It's not going to rain, Wright."
"Mmm-hmm. Now, did your Doppler pick up that baby in the sky, or was it perfectly clear?"
"...It was... Clear," I grunted.
"So my hunch is already working out better than your scientific approach."
"Your "hunches" are a pile of garbage. You can't just guess the weather every day and expect to be correct."
"Hey, I looked at the Doppler. I just disagreed with it." I grunted. "Plus," he added, "I'm definitely not guessing. I wouldn't have a perfect ten year streak if I just guessed."
I knew that. Phoenix had some sort of inexplicable gift in which he could just understand the weather. It was strange and mysterious, but also completely unfair. The Fey line had the ability to weed out lies in interviews, Mr. Justice had a bracelet that reacted when someone was hiding some sort of scoop, and Ms. Cykes was able to evoke emotional personal interviews with even the most stoic of guests.
"I know... But it's unfair how much harder I work, only to get inaccurate results."
"...I don't even like weather forecasting all that much, to be honest," I said, frowning.
"Oh?"
"I feel useless, just telling people news instead of being a part of it."
"Ah." I frowned.
"I mean, what if that whale didn't actually kill that guy?"
"...You mean the owner of Shipshape Aquarium?"
"Yeah, him."
"You mean to tell me you're reconsidering your life because of the euthanization of an orca?"
"No, not really. But I want to experience news. I want to be someone important."
"You're very important. You have many leather-bound books and my apartment smells of rich mahogany."
"I don't want to be like, Marvin Grossberg important... I just want to feel like my life made an impact, you know?"
"At least you're good at your profession," I scoffed.
"Hey, you've been at this job for what, fifteen years? And you've only made a handful of mistakes?"
"But I'm replaceable. By you." I frowned. "If I just disappeared one day, the world wouldn't notice."
"Yes it would!"
"Ten people would notice at the most. I mean, look around." I pointed at a few passersby. "They're all carrying umbrellas, because they listened to you and not to me."
"The world would never be the same without you."
"Is that true?"
"My world would be in a million pieces without you."
"And you're the entire world now, aren't you?"
"I'm very important."
"What if I was meant to follow in my father's footsteps?"
"And what, become a lawyer?" Phoenix laughed. "Lawyers are scumbags. Hasn't your career in the news industry taught you anything?"
"My father was one of the good ones... And perhaps I could have been one, too."
I felt something cold on my hand, and I looked up into the downcast sky. "I think it's raining," Phoenix said, grinning.
"Of course it is," I muttered. I tried to stand up, but Phoenix dragged me back down, pulling off his coat. He was wearing another one underneath, apparently, and he handed his blueberry jacket to me, which was significantly less puffy now. "We'll still get wet," I pointed out.
Smiling, Phoenix pulled out an umbrella and propped it up using some sort of redneck stand he'd created for it. Leaning against me, I felt the warmth of something human among the cold rain, my tangible failures, the cost of the life I'd probably left behind. Phoenix was always there, and he always knew exactly what to do.
I wasn't like that, though. I couldn't just enjoy the feeling of the water pattering on our umbrella, listening to the proof that I wasn't good enough. I was no genius... Only a cumulus cloud lost in an ever-changing sky, a cloud too insignificant to detect on anyone's radar.
Perhaps it was fitting that Wright, the one who truly understood those clouds, had still managed to find me. Unfortunately, I'd yet to find myself.
So I watched the sky, feeling the rain pouring down, wondering what shapes those water droplets had once taken.