DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the installments of Ace Attorney or any of the characters.
A/N: This chapter was inspired by a prompt sent to me by HeroMan66475. Thanks a bunch and I hope you enjoy! *Virtual hugs*
ACE ATTORNEY SCRAPBOOK
Chapter 10: Say What?!
Case Tag: Dai Gyakuten Saiban, Case 3 (Translated: The Adventure of the Runaway Room)
Quote: User suggested prompt!
For those unfamiliar with this game, imagine Barok as Edgeworth and Naruhodou as Nick :)
FYI: I have not actually played Dai Gyakuten Saiban, but watched some English dubs online (I am crushed we missed out on this game...), so pardon any moments that may seem OOC. There will be several references to pop culture in this chapter. For fun, try and see if you can identify them all! I'll list them all out at the end, just in case :)
February 19, 1900, 12:45pm
Scotland Yard
Following the conclusion of the case of Cosney Megundal, legendary English prosecutor, Barok van Zieks, decided to pay a little visit to Scotland Yard in order to do some research. Having recently returned from a five year absence from the bench, he wanted to ensure that his prosecutorial skills were still as stellar as the local gossip tabloids proclaimed them to be. The trial yesterday had been somewhat of an eye opening experience, with a new light being shed on Japanese culture, courtesy of the young foreign exchange student with aspirations to become a defense attorney, Naruhodou Ryuunosuke. Though young and somewhat rash, Barok figured that Naruhodou would be a fine attorney one day, as the rookie's heart was in the right place and he seemed to genuinely believe in his client's innocence regardless of the circumstances.
With every officer, lackey and investigator alike all bowing in admiration and respect to Barok's presence as he grandly strode through the building, the prosecutor eventually made his way to the records room. Once inside, he closed the door behind him and set about his work. Being away from the courts for several years, Barok had numerous cases that he wished to look into and planned on spending a good portion of his day at Scotland Yard, something that he had done many times before. Plus, doing his best to remain as "crime-free" as possible over his five year hiatus, Barok was interested in discerning whether or not any developments had been made by Scotland Yard into major investigations such as the Jack the Ripper case.
Much to his disappointment, it appeared that no breaks in the case had occurred since the body of the last victim was discovered a few years ago. Barok returned the file to its drawer in the filing cabinet and then attempted to close the drawer in question, but found it jammed. Pulling the drawer out again, he tried to realign it so that it would close properly, but it was still quite stuck.
"In the name of Justice..." Barok murmured as he continued to work on the cabinet.
Extending the drawer nearly all the way out, he gave it one forceful shove, the cabinet banging backward against the wall behind it, which seemed to do the trick. The drawer successfully closed, but not before the force of the push caused some haphazardly stored evidence resting on a wall shelf a few feet above Barok's head to come crashing down. Unfortunately, due to his proximity to the shelf, the evidence came crashing down on him, hitting him directly on the head. Barok stumbled backward, ultimately losing his footing and falling down on his behind.
Hearing a ruckus emanate from behind the closed door of the records room, 10 year old Iris Watson glanced up from the mechanism she was currently tinkering with and looked over at the door in question with curiosity.
"Sir?" her cute little girlish voice quite the change from the standard adult male that could be heard speaking throughout Scotland Yard. "Did you hear that noise?"
Watson's counterpart, the infamous Sherlock Holmes (yes, he's really in the game), with his pipe to his lips as he stared out the nearby window and watching the hustle and bustle of the crowded London streets, turned his head to face her.
"Of course, my dear Watson," he replied in his customary cool and collected tone. "It sounded as though something tumbled off of a shelf in the records room."
Watson frowned as she looked from the records room to Holmes and back again.
"I believe I saw Prosecutor van Zieks enter into the room earlier," she mused aloud. "I hope he's all right..."
"He's very capable, Watson," Holmes reminded her. "But you may check in on him, if you'd prefer,"
Watson pushed her goggles up so that they rested just above her strawberry pink bangs and slid off the stool she had been sitting on before making her way over to the door of the records room. She carefully turned the knob and pushed the door open a slit, just enough to peek inside.
"Prosecutor van Zieks?" Watson called out quietly.
She did not immediately receive an answer, but, when she did, it was nothing more than a low groan. Alarmed, Watson's eyes darted around the room, but could not see much, as her vantage point was obscured by some shelves and cabinets. She scurried inside to have a better look. Rounding the corner of some cabinets, Watson came across Barok, who was lying on his back on the floor of the records room.
When Watson did not return from the records room as quickly as he would have surmised, Holmes turned away from the window with a frown. Finding the door to the records room slightly ajar, he decided to take a gander himself.
"I say, Watson," Holmes said as he strolled into the records room as if he owned the place. "What in the world is taking so long-"
He was admittedly surprised to find Watson on her knees, cradling the head of an unconscious Barok van Zieks.
"He must have been struck on the head when the evidence from that shelf tumbled down," Watson explained as she looked up at Holmes.
Holmes glanced around the floor immediately surrounding his partner and the unconscious prosecutor, examining the various items that had fallen from the shelf adjacent to the room's three occupants. Finding the piece of evidence he believed to cause the injury to Barok, he snatched it from the ground and held it up under the light.
"I deduce that this item here is our culprit," Holmes said confidently.
"Is that a brick?" Watson was more surprised than uncertain.
"Yes, my dear Watson, 'tis a brick," Holmes replied. "I figure that this was an item belonging to the dearly departed victim, 'Thrice-Fired' Morta, a poor bricklayer who met his demise only a few short days ago and was the impetus for the trial of Cosney Megundal that concluded only yesterday."
"Yes, that does seem likely," Watson agreed, turning her attention back to Barok. "But I fear that Prosecutor van Ziek may be injured..."
"Perhaps...oh, wait, there he is. Prosecutor van Ziek is coming around," Holmes motioned toward Barok, who was slowly beginning to stir.
"Pocket..." Barok groaned, bringing a gloved hand up to his head to rub it in an attempt to soothe the aches and pains there.
"Pocket?" Watson repeated. "Is there something in your pocket?"
"Pocket...monsters..." Barok murmured.
Watson and Holmes shared a perplexed glance.
"Pocket monsters?" Holmes repeated. "What the devil is he talking about?"
"Got...to...got to catch them all..."
Barok blinked, slowly coming back to complete consciousness. He, with some assistance from Watson, managed to sit up. He glanced between the detective duo, trying to ascertain exactly what happened, as the last few minutes were completely erased from his memory.
"Plummers," Barok stated, completely unaware of the jibberish he was spewing. "Plummers wear red and green overalls. They need to save the princess."
"Princess?" Holmes leaned over to Watson and whispered to her. "I think he hit his head harder than we thought."
Barok frowned, becoming irritated at the fact that Holmes and Watson didn't appear to understand anything he was saying.
"Wilford Warfstache!" he exclaimed, gesticulating wildly with his hands. "He is the king of FNaF!"
"Finn-aff?" Watson repeated. "I say, he's completely lost his marbles. Perhaps you should examine him, Watson."
Watson, a licensed physician despite her young age, crawled over to Barok and began to examine the prosecutor's grey haired head. Barok winced when she touched a sensitive spot in the area where the brick had struck him.
"Attention, duelists," Barok was becoming increasingly frustrated at the lack of communication. "My Grandfather's deck of playing cards has no dismal cards, except perhaps for Kuriboh..."
"He's sustained a nasty concussion," Watson informed Holmes. "We will need to get him home so he can rest and I'll prepare an ice pack to help reduce any swelling and tenderness, as well as an analgesic-"
Holmes, still holding the brick in his hands, tossed it up and down lightly. He was only half listening to Watson, with most of his attention locked on to the prosecutor who was spewing some irritatingly foreign sounding nonsense that was, quite frankly, beginning to annoy him.
"Yes, that would probably be a wise course of action," Watson pretended to agree. "But I have something that I'd like to try first."
Before Watson even had a chance to question what his plan was, Holmes took the brick and smashed Barok upside the head with it, knocking the prosecutor out cold once again.
"Holmes!" Watson shrieked. "What in the world was that for?!"
"It's elementary, my dear Watson," Holmes replied. "A hit on the head with a brick is what scrambled his brain, so, it is reasonable to believe that a second hit to the head would undo the previous scrambling."
"It doesn't exactly work that way-" Watson attempted to reply, but she was interrupted by Barok coming to.
"Why..." he began to say, rubbing his head in a similar fashion to the way he did earlier when he regained consciousness the first time.
"Awaken, my Death God of the Old Bailey!" Holmes urged, using the prosecutor's unfortunate nickname.
"Why...does my head feel like it's been repeatedly smashed into the prosecutor's bench?" Barok groaned.
"It...worked?" Watson was more appalled than impressed, by her partner interpreted it as the latter.
"Like I told you, Watson, it just works. You may have a medical degree and be considered a prodigy, but I," Holmes said with a victorious smirk as he tapped his temple. "Have my analytic reasoning and that is a crucial weapon in the arsenal of a detective."
"Detective Holmes, why is there a brick in your hands?" Barok questioned warily.
Holmes glanced down to the brick in his hand before returning his focus to Barok.
"To be continued," he said quickly, tossing the brick aside and dashing from the room.
Barok just watched him leave, feeling even more confused than before. This was certainly not how he imagined his day at Scotland Yard transpiring.
Reference Answer Key!
"Pocket Monsters..."/"Got to catch them all"-Pokémon (aka Pocket Monsters)
"Plummers wear red and green overalls. They need to save the princess..."-Mario Bros.
"Wilford Warfstache!"/"He is the king of FNaF!"-Markiplier (aka the King of Five Nights at Freddy's)
"Attention, duelists,"/"My Grandfather's deck of playing cards has no dismal cards, except perhaps for Kuriboh..."-Yu-Gi-Oh! the Abridged version
"...it just works..."/"To be continued..."-Jojo's Bizarre Adventure