Okayy. xD So. I finally went back onto Word and began writing the second (first?) chapter. I would have done it earlier if I knew how to begin the darn thing. This chapter has my own OC, the defendant, and a little bit of a cameo for my OC prosecutor. Ema's in it at the end as well.
Some of their names have puns, but they're more meaningful names, rather than puns. I don't think they're really obvious, though, so don't try looking too hard. XD There is one obvious one though. Or maybe two.
Also, I apologise for any OOC moments for the canon characters. This is my first AA fic, so I'm not really experienced with writing them. If they are OOC, please tell me ^^
Well. Shall I get on with the chapter, then? o3o.
Read and review~! :D
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything in Ace Attorney. I do however, own Quentin, Anastasia, ad Eustace Hadley.
/
Dear journal,
Hi there! It's been an reeeeeeeally boring week here at the Wright Anything Agency. I can't even remember the last time we had a client. Daddy keeps saying that we'll have to start eating Mr. Hat if we keep going like this. I really hope he's kidding, because Mr. Hat is the only way we're bringing in any money. Maybe we'll get a new client soon!
…Speaking of Daddy, he's talked about taking the bar exam for a second time, but he hasn't done anything about it yet. I think he thinks he can do more as a non-lawyer than he can as a defense attorney. He said something about 'legal restrictions' and 'the judge knowing full well that I'm not the person to do anything by the most conventional method'. I think that means Daddy's just too lazy to actually take the bar exam again, if you ask me.
Anyway, I haven't written in you for a while, journal, so I should update you on what's happened since Vera got acquitted a few months ago! Polly (Apollo Justice-you know the one, right?) pretty much stays at our place now. I don't know why, honestly. He and Daddy had a lengthy discussion about something a few weeks back. Lamiroir was there too! I didn't think I'd see her again after the case with Machi Tobaye, to be honest. But that day she came…..she seemed upset. About what, you ask Mr. Journal? ….I'm not entirely sure. But it was a long discussion, alright. I tried to listen outside the door, because the yelling was getting louder and louder and I was getting curiouser and curiouser and then Daddy suddenly stopped yelling and opened the door and frowned at me and I was really scared because he looked really angry so I ran away really really fast.
So I don't know what they were arguing about.
But I'm sure it was something reeeeeeeally important, otherwise Daddy and Apollo wouldn't be yelling like that. Actually, when Apollo finally came out of that room…he left. And he seemed kinda upset. I thought he'd been crying a bit, but Polly never cries, so I don't think that's true.
But don't worry, journal! Everyone is fine now. Although something tells me they're keeping a secret from me. And I reeeeeeeally want to find out what it is. I hate it when people keep secrets from me!But I'll find out. Don't you worry, journal! I'll get justice for all like Apollo does now and Daddy used to!
Well. I don't have anything else to say, except school has been good recently. My teacher, Mr. Hadley, asked me if I wanted to come over for dinner. What, do I look anorexic or something?! I just told him we were doing fine, thank you very much, and that although the idea of a free meal was tempting, I couldn't possibly rob him of his well-earned food. It sort of took the air out of his sails, I think, because he walked away really dejectedly after that. It was kind of funny, actually.
Oh, look, the news is on! Maybe there'll be something about a murder. And you know what they say, when there's a murder, there's a defendant! ….Or something like that.
Gotta go, Mr. Journal!
-Trucy Wright slash Gramarye slash Enigmar.
/
"Whaaaaaaaat?! He's dead?!"
Apollo frowned, tracing the slight grooves on his bracelet faintly, eyes towards the door. Who's dead? Mr. Wright?! He shook his head and gritted his teeth; somehow, if Mr. Wright really was dead, he felt that Trucy's reaction would be slightly more….substantial.
What does this bracelet even mean, now I know the real secrets behind it?
"POLLY! Come quick, over here!"
Apollo's frown deepened, his fingers tightening around his bracelet. "What?" he yelled back, a slight hint of irritance entering his voice.
Why couldn't they just have left me in the dark?
"What?! And he's the defendant?!"
Apollo drew his hand away, turning back toward door leading to Trucy's room. "A defendant?" he murmured to himself. Must be a trial.
Making his way up to Trucy's room, he cautiously peered through the door and saw Trucy staring in astonishment and complete shock at the glowing screen of her mini T.V she'd bought with leftover money from her shows at the Wonder Bar.
She looked up and suddenly grabbed his wrist, pulling him over to the corner of her bed. "Look! At the T.V! A case! Apollo, a case!"
Apollo sighed theatrically and swiveled toward the screen; in actuality, the prospect of a new case to investigate was more than enticing.
"And our top story tonight, a twenty-nine year old high school teacher was found dead today near his car in the car park of his workplace. Mr. Eustace Hadley was well known in the area for his kindness and generosity involving his work with Harbor Childcare, a childcare agency that doubles as an aid organisation. Both Harbor Childcare and Triston High School are mourning his loss, and he is to be sorely missed. As an update from our previous report, the police have found and arrested the prime suspect, a student in the victim's class going by the name of Quentin Megane. Specific details are still scarce, however, but the chief of police has reported that the cause of death was strangulation…"
Apollo frowned. "Triston High School….isn't that where you go?"
Trucy nodded excitedly. "And I even know the defendant!"
"That's nice. But shouldn't you be more worried about the fact that one of your teachers is dead?"Trucy shook her head. "….No. Keep listening!"
Apollo shook his head and grabbed the remote out of Trucy's hand. She protested weakly, but the T.V was turned off before she could do anything about it. She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands sternly on her hips, adopting a facial expression Apollo knew only too well.
"Pollyyyyyyyyy!" she whined, trying to snatch the remote back. "We need to watch it! You're going to defend him!""Woah, who said anything about defending this kid, Quentin Whatshisface?!" Apollo stammered, reaching high above his head to keep her hands of the remote.
"Me! I did!" Trucy started jumping, hands outstretched, standing high on her tiptoes. "At least see him at the detention center!"
Apollo sighed and tossed the remote onto an inexplicably high shelf that had been placed in Trucy's room for no reason other to keep her from fiddling with all Mr. Wright's stuff. Why Mr. Wright's stuff was in Trucy's room in the first place, he'd never know. You could never tell with him, anyway.
"….Fine. We'll go see Quentin Thingamajig now, okay! Just stop pestering me, okay?!"
Trucy nodded in satisfaction. "Okay!" she smiled, immediately brightening up. "Let's go!"
Apollo turned away. "Shouldn't we tell Mr. Wright?"Trucy frowned. "Daddy won't mind. Speaking of Daddy…Polly, you and him don't seem to be on too friendly terms lately. Something happen?"
Apollo turned to face Trucy's serious, slightly curious face with a touch of sadness. "…No," he replied, forcing a weak smile. "Why?"
Trucy remained unconvinced. "You two just seem to be at odds, that's all."
Apollo turned toward the door again. "Well, we're….uh, we're not."
Trucy giggled from behind him. "Guess it's just my imagination again."
Apollo nodded. 'Totally. Say, are you ready yet-hey, how'd you get the remote back?!" he gasped, eyes wide with shock. Hadn't he put that remote on the high shelf….?
Trucy smiled and poked out her tongue. "…Magic?"
/
They arrived at the detention center earlier than expected, and they were forced to wait several minutes before being allowed in. A guard ushered them in quietly, giving them stern glances whenever Trucy tried to speak up. What's with the silence? Apollo thought, frowning out of habit. Are we interrupting something or what?
As they silently filed into Quentin's room, another group silently filed out. A couple of burly guards, staring resolutely ahead at the wall, and a younger-looking woman. The woman didn't look like she belonged in a detention center at all; her dyed bright pink hair was pulled messily into a side bun, and her clothes reminded Apollo of a teenage punk-rock girl's wardrobe. Cut-off black denim shorts above ripped grey tights riddled with ladders, and an oversized rock band promotional top with an uncomfortably low neckline. A studded bracelet completed the look.
Trucy's eyes widened at the sight of the girl, and she started to introduce herself, but instead the girl raised a hand to stop her and stood directly by Apollo's side.
"See you at the trial tomorrow," she half-whispered into his ear, a sly, cat-like smile playing upon her lips.
As quickly as the girl had appeared, she had left, the guards hastily trailing after her.
"You have fifteen minutes," the one remaining guard told the two of them stiffly, and he filed out to follow his co-workers.
Trucy shifted her gaze to her classmate behind the glass slate separating them. "Queenie…" she murmured sadly, holding one hand to her heart.
'Queenie'?
Apollo sat down in the adjacent chair, observing Quentin. He somehow managed to look miserable and impossibly snooty at the same time; though his body language told the defense attorney he was feeling terrible, his face held the same self-righteousness he'd detected in that Wesley Stickler guy he'd had the misfortune to encounter on his second case. Like he'd seen on T.V, he had a head of tangled, greasy-looking blonde hair and an acne-ridden face, but some of it was covered up by his unnecessarily huge glasses. Thick-rimmed, expensive-looking and impossibly big, those glasses took up half of his face. Frankly, it looked ridiculous.
"So…." Apollo shifted in his seat awkwardly. "You're-"
"Quentin Megane," the child said stiffly, though with a hint of the conceited tone Apollo had been expecting. "Absolutely delighted to make your acquaintance." Here Apollo detected a touch of sarcasm.
"Queenie!" Trucy gasped, pressing her face against the glass. "What-how-why did they arrest you?!"
'Queenie' scowled at her, fingers leaving slight indentations on his old, worn notepad. "My name is Quentin," he muttered stiffly. "And the specific circumstances of my prior arrest? That is on a strict need-to-know basis, and you don't need to know."
Trucy's hands bunched into fists. "We're here to help you!" she frowned, a determined expression plastered on her face.
Quentin snorted. "Help me? And how exactly do you propose you do such a thing? I assume it has something to do with high-surveillance prison escapes, thrilling car chases and forging fake identification cards?"
"I'm a defense attorney," Apollo stated flatly, noticing Quentin deflate just a little. He…actually wanted a car chase, fake , all that?
"I see." Quentin pushed his glasses up his nose by the bridge. "And what firm would you work for?"
"The Wright and Co. Anything Agency!" Trucy supplied, sitting down on the seat next to Apollo.
Quentin laughed hollowly. "Of course you would. You are, after all, Miss Trucy Wright."
Apollo nodded. "We'd like to represent you," he told him, leaning on the bench in front of the glass panel.
Quentin frowned. "The prosecution has already made it clear to me that I will be convicted, no matter who is defending me," he sighed heavily.
"The prosecutor's already visited you?" Apollo frowned.
"Who is it?" Trucy asked excitedly, eyes widening at the prospect of learning the identity of the prosecutor this early into the investigation.
"You saw her before," Quentin smirked. "She exited just as you entered. I believe she said her name was something along the lines of 'Anastasia Ceace'…"
"Wait, that random girl from before….is a prosecutor?" Apollo asked confusedly, casting his eyes toward the door.
"She may look under-qualified and unprofessional, but she exudes a completely different aura once she is forced to get down to business," Quentin replied.
"A….different aura?" Trucy asked.
"As soon as she was reminded that I had questioning to undergo, the mood turned sour. She started bragging about how I would lose no matter what."
"….Sounds like a nice lady," Apollo muttered.
"Not really, no," Quentin mused, completely missing the obvious sarcasm.
There was an awkward silence as Apollo picked at his bracelet, Trucy at her hair, and Quentin stared resolutely forward.
"So will you be making preparations to represent me in court?" Quentin asked, breaking the silence.
Apollo looked up. "I thought you said…"
"What I said does not mean I don't want a defense," Quentin replied. "I assume I must prepare a letter or notice of some sort…?"
Trucy nodded. "You need a letter of request. Basically, just write down you want Polly here to be your lawyer, and they'll probably accept it.""'Polly'…?" Quentin muttered questioningly, but he tore a sheet of paper from his notepad and began writing. "There. A letter of request."
Apollo took the paper from under the glass, folding it neatly and placing it in his pocket. "So, will you tell us about your arrest now?"
A fleeting moment of silence passed before Quentin sighed and unfolded his arms. "I suppose," he sighed, resting his elbows on the desk in front of him. "Apparently my fingerprints were found on the weapon. Never mind that the cause of death was strangulation."
Trucy frowned. "Strangulation….that's weird. What was the murder weapon?"Quentin shrugged; he looked annoyed that he didn't know. 'I imagine something like a plastic cord. It couldn't be made of fabric, otherwise there would be no fingerprints."
"Yeah," Apollo mused, absently tracing the grooves on his bracelet. "Um…..so did you kill him?" He was expecting an angry outburst from the teenager, but instead got one from Trucy.
"Apollo!" she yelled, placing her hands on her hips. "Quentin is a nice guy! He doesn't even have a reason to kill Mr Hadley!"
"According to the police, I do," Quentin cut in, silencing Trucy with a hand.
"…..Oh. Well then, they're wrong!"
"Trucy…..just leave it. Quentin, what do they think?" Apollo asked.
"He gave me an A on a test recently."
"An…A?" the defense attorney asked in confusion. "Isn't that a good thing…?"
"Hardly!" Quentin exploded, pushing his glasses up angrily. "An A? Usually I get an A+! Who does he think he is, giving me an A?!"
"….Trucy? Is he always like this?"
"Pretty much. Nobody really likes him because he's got such a know-it-all attitude. But I know he couldn't have killed Mr Hadley!"
"Correct!"
"He's too much of a wimp anyway!"
"Incorrect!'' Quentin protested weakly.
"But it's true! Quentin is so weak-willed, he's like a jellyfish. He's spineless!"
"Yes, I'm like a major non-polyp form of individuals of the phylum Cnidaria," Quentin quipped.
"You're a what now?"
"Trucy. Quentin. ENOUGH." Apollo cleared his throat. "….Wow, I'm not used to being so forceful. Makes me wish I'd done more voice training today."
"Voice training?" Quentin echoed.
"He stays up until five am every day practicing shouting," Trucy explained, waving a hand. "Trust me, it's not something you ever get used to.""Hey, I can't be an attorney if I can't shout objection," Apollo joked weakly.
"….I sincerely hope you were kidding just now, Mr…."
"Justice. Apollo Justice. Not 'Polly' like Trucy says," Apollo offered.
"Hmph. Daddy thinks it's a cute nickname," Trucy muttered scornfully.
"Your daddy is one sandwich short of a picnic," Apollo shot back.
"….Point taken."
"Aren't we meant to be discussing the trial?" Quentin asked.
"Trucy has a tendency to stray off on a tangent. Quentin, the victim was you and Trucy's teacher, right?"
Quentin nodded. "Correct. Before the unfortunate incident with the grade, he was my favourite teacher, actually. Very calm, collected, and never lost his cool. But…"
"…But?"
"He had a tendency to….try and…get it on with the females in my class." He coughed politely behind his hand.
"He….what?"
Trucy suddenly looked sick. "Oh….oh." She raised a hand to her mouth. "He invited me over for dinner one day…..I thought he thought I was a charity case or something, but I guess….."
Apollo frowned. 'Um. Ew. Not as nice a teacher as we thought then."
"On the outside, he was a rather nice fellow," Quentin smiled drily. "Never judge a book by it's cover is how the saying goes."
Trucy faltered. "But he seemed so nice…"
"So did Alita Tiala. And Kristoph Gavin. And Daryan Crescend….okay, maybe not him."
"But still….Mr Hadley was always really nice to everyone, not just girls…" Trucy looked puzzled. 'Queenie, are you sure?""Positive. And my name is Quentin." The boy flicked imaginary lint off his shoulder.
"Do you know anything else?" Apollo asked.
"Barely. The victim was Mr Eustace Hadley, a teacher at Triston High School. Cause of death was strangulation. The scene of the crime was the car park at the school itself….That's all I know." Quentin snapped his notebook shut, eyeing them. "You assure me I won't get convicted for this?"
Trucy shook her head vigorously. "No way. Apollo would never let that happen."
Apollo nodded. "She speaks the truth. Quentin, we'll do everything in power to get you your not guilty verdict."
Quentin smiled wryly. "Then let's hope that's enough, Mr Justice."
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Apollo watched Trucy shudder as they approached the staff car park; there was nothing quite like visiting the crime scene where your current teacher was brutally murdered. Despite the lack of bloodstains, it felt strangely eerie, more than the other crime scenes they'd visited. Probably because the victim was someone they knew well.
"Hey, that's Ema, right?" Trucy pointed to a labcoat-clad figure in the distance, though the munching sounds were clearly audible even from a large distance.
"And she's…glowing with happiness, it seems," Apollo noted. "Wonder what's gotten into her?"
"Apollo! Trucy!" Ema cheerfully waved at them, placing her Snackoos back in her bag. "Long time no see!"
"Hi Ema. You seem cheerful today," Trucy acknowledged.
"That's because the fop isn't prosecuting this case," Ema replied gleefully. Almost too gleefully, Apollo thought.
"You mean Klavier Gavin?" Apollo frowned. "Why not? He seems to be taking pretty much every case thrown at him now…"
"He's in Germany," Ema cackled, rubbing her hands together. "Oh, how long I have waited for this day!"
"Um…yeah. Say Ema, what's the prosecutor like then?" Apollo asked hastily, eager to change the subject.
"Anastasia Ceace is her name…been married for three months now. Avid Steel Samurai fan, though she prefers the Pink Princess. Twenty-five years old, been prosecuting for four of them. Apparently she's real good, only ever lost a couple of trials, and that was up against real good defense attorneys."
"I've never actually heard of her," Apollo admitted.
"Nobody really has. Apparently she likes to stay hidden, not really relishing her victories or anything," Ema mused. "She doesn't take important cases, which is why I'm confused she's taking this case."
"Why doesn't she take big cases?" Trucy asked, confused. "Doesn't she wanna be famous?"
"Apparently not," Ema replied. "I met her before, and let me say this-she doesn't do anything without a reason."
"She's keeping herself 'hidden' on purpose?" Apollo frowned.
"Yeah, weirdly. Completely unlike that glimmerous fop. Honestly." Ema shrugged.
"So can you tell us anything about the case?" Trucy pressed.
Ema looked smug. "I've already finished my investigation," she smirked, handing them a condensed autopsy report.
Apollo scanned the file briefly. "It says the time of death was between eight at night to eight thirty. Why was Quentin even at school at that time?"
"Probably studying," Trucy supplied. "Maybe he was disheartened by the A he got on his test?"
"Were there other students there at the time?" Apollo asked.
Ema nodded. "There were three other students, and one teacher, though they have an alibi. Four students are being kept here as witnesses, while the teacher has been let go."
"What teacher?" Trucy asked. "And….isn't the probability of a teacher murdering another teacher higher than the chances of a student murdering a teacher?"
"Yeah, but the Mrs McCormick's alibi is rock-solid," Ema answered. "She couldn't possibly have been in the car park and the library at the same time. Security cameras caught her on tape."
"There's no security camera in the car park, right?"
This time Trucy answered. "No way. It's where everyone goes at break to smoke weed-"
"That's enough," Apollo nodded hastily. "You said there were four students, but three at school at the time of death. What's up with the fourth person?"
"She says she has important information about the murder," Ema replied. "Coincidentally, all four students are in the defendant's class."
"Then they're in my class too!" Trucy exclaimed. "Who?"
Ema read from a list. "Felicity-Rose Watson, Harrison Styles, Alyssa Harbor, and Ino Takahashi. Ino is the fourth person, by the way."
"Ino?" Trucy echoed. "The Japanese exchange student? Somehow, I can't see her as a witness in a murder case…."
"Never judge a book by it's cover," Apollo reminded her.
"Oh, and don't even think about trying to pin the blame on Ino," Ema said. "She has an alibi as well. Her parents can account for that."
"So how does the know about the murder?"
"She wants to testify about the defendant's behaviour before the murder, and his possible motives," Ema explained. "I believe she's the prosecution's third witness."
Apollo nodded. "Thanks for your time, Ema. By the way…what was the murder weapon? Apparently Quentin's fingerprints were found on it, but that's nearly impossible, given the murder method…"
"He was strangled with a plastic skipping rope," Ema replied. "Those fingerprints were found on the handles."Trucy snickered. "Queenie has a skipping rope?"
"Unidentified fingerprints were also found on the rope, but since the prints are remarkably similar, we believe that the rope belongs to his younger sister, Bertha Megane."
"Oh. I see…" Apollo absorbed this information. "Well, thanks Ema. Can we talk to the witnesses you mentioned?"Ema pointed to a large iron door. "They're through there," the explained. "All four students are in there. Take as much time as you need," she winked.
Trucy nodded. 'Thanks, Ema!" She turned to Apollo as the pair walked away, opening the door. "Wow, she's really more helpful when Klavier's not around, huh?"
"Maybe we should keep Klavier away from our cases more often," Apollo remarked.
Looks like this case is about to heat up…
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Wow that was long. o.e
Anyway, I officially hate Quentin, if I can hate my own OC. God, why'd I make him like that? /face palm.
Anyway, I wonder if you guys noticed the One Direction reference. I actually don't like 1D that much. I just wanted to make a pop-culture reference in true AA fashion xD
Yeah. Nothing has really happened yet. But if you think it deserved a review, then please, review. 3
-Reff o3o