Sorry for my lateness. Several things happened and school started, but anyhoo. You're here for Story Time.
"Are you absolutely certain you wish to accompany me?" The rich lady pressed, "I'm at two minds about this, but both work quite well."
"You did say there was a chance we could run into someone who needs help." Apollo affirmed, "the Wright Anything Agency does just that."
"You've only just recovered." Her brows quirked, "I don't believe you should run amok too long. Are you sure you're fine?"
'Am I sure?! Me?! Apollo Justice?!'
"Yes." He grinned doltishly.
"I'm not convinced…" She patronized, her eyes staring down at him by the incline of her head.
'Listen lady, compared to what I've been through these past few days and moments ago... I am!'
"I'm fine." He pressed harder, more audible.
Her neck retreated, unpleased and unsatisfied as she shook her head.
'I'm going to have to bring out the big guns! Chords of Steel, not yet!'
"I'm fine!" He shouted with vigor and enthusiasm.
She tuned smarmily, "It's the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends... scream!"
"I'M FINE!"
Chords of Steel broke the area to a crescendo, snatching the attention from those across the street. The light from day reentered his eyes, unknowingly scrunching shut and balling his fists as the rest of him tensed entirely.
"Wow…"
He slackened, reverting his hunched slump to peer at her.
"That actually sounded pretty good…"
'I think someone's ears are bleeding...' He thought oddly to himself.
"Alright…"
"So I had to break the sound barrier just to convince you…?"
She ignored his remark, "on a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?"
"Physical or emotional?" He squelched.
She approached him silently, ebbing forth fluidly like viscous oil. Her fingers suddenly jolted, locking his jaw bone in her grip. She grinned menacingly, "I can crack both."
Her breath had a sort of waft sweet fruity smell, close to a nail polish scent as his face was wrenched towards her own. The brown horns stood on end like the antennas in a thunderstorm as he dangled in the unclenched grasp. He panicked, searching for anyone who could possibly question why this woman was currently manhandling him. Her clutch curved his neck, causing him to sweat.
'No! Don't snap it! I don't want a Guilty Jawbreaker…!'
His eyes scrunched close, waiting for her to send him to the mysteries of the afterlife. 'It was a crazy life, despite all the Hell! Goodbye, cruel world!'
The soothed wily whisper inquired once more."Pain level…?"
"None! Zero...!" He cried forlornly. 'Fear… Over 9,000!'
The air retreated to a gasp when said hand landed on his forehead. It was much nippy than his own far stricken heated skin, but somehow simmered him down to the point he involuntarily relaxed.
"Since you're that persistent, then I might as well check your temperature."
'I thought the doctor over there should be certified for this...' He moped as she settled onto the landing pad of his face.
Her thumb distended from the rest of the bundle down to one of his eyes, blindsiding him in one area.
"Wow, your forehead." She laughed. "And I still fit comfortably on it."
"Why does everyone hate my forehead?!" Apollo griped.
She offered a genuine grin, "don't be too upset about it." She eulogised. "Studies revealed bigger foreheads show an indication of cleverness, diligence and practicality. It can also mean that you are full of ideas… like the ones you commented earlier… Don't worry…" Her eyes beamed white for the first time, "I'm not judging you out loud either…"
'How did she know that?!' He twitched, shifting her hand slightly.
"And just like that, you give it away too easily…" She deviated, "as a perceiver, you should know this already. We just need to exercise that, now won't we?"
His muted gawk remained as she held over him. She did not let go immediately. Scanning his face up and down, she meticulously ensured her guest was well with his being in a soft smile. After a moment of appreciation, her brows scrunched back to focus, releasing him from her grip, tucked back to her chest defensively.
The tension welled up like an ugly bag of snakes, ransacked from his temperament as she relinquished his face. His eyes tracked on where hers landed on, near hesitant.
'I almost forgot!'
His thumb tucked under the red fabric of the his vest collar, bringing forth the golden pendant tacked practically forever of his ranking.
"You like the badge, huh?" Her offered a flashy toothy wide grin.
"The emblem of your profession." She regarded reflectively, "It must be nice to have one… Appreciate its presence."
"Yes, I do!" He held the golden medal pridefully.
"Trusting a lawyer." She snickered tenderly to herself. "By Jove! Am I glad I brought my looking glasses!"
"You wear glasses?" The red attorney scampered quickly on her physique, not one lense was stumbled upon.
"I am four eyed in a sense." She leered coquettishly. "Yes. You seem… fine."
'But your superior is far more deadly…'
"First things first," she waved her hands upwards. "Posture."
"What?" Apollo quirked at her unhighlighted violets, incapable to stick to them for long.
"Strike a pose…!"
"Yes, ma'am!" He stiffened straight like an erect soldier, a sweat nearly trickling from his forehead. 'I won't vogue!'
Her glare was stabbing and musing. Arms at his side and muscles stiffened, he dare not turn when she traveled. She trailed around his pull, pensive and precise. The lady did not touch him, merely grasping some sort of intangible result. The journey of appreciation ceased. Her finger beckoned upwards, commanding, "chin up. Now puff your chest."
"Am I heading off to another one of your fop parties?" He quirked as he mimicked her procedure.
"No, but if I am." She mantled the sun from blocking his forebody intently. "You'll be elected as best piñata. Fiesta, Apollo!"
'Yikes!' His lips swallowed themselves.
"Now you're almost as tall as me." She pleasantly addressed. "Take a deep breath and have a boast when walking."
Apollo followed, astonished she had not patted his head like an obedient puppy, part for his comfort, another dismissing that he was indeed shorter than the rich lady.
'I'm being forced to reenter lessons for the School of HardKnocks…' He slumped.
"Ah. Ah. Back up," She beckoned with one hand. Her other limb fetching for something in her pocket. "Now, let us complete our objective."
'If it's a leash she's going for, I would not be surprised. I'm not into that kind of thing…'
Lo and behold her mobile device unearthed and embraced the light of day. Her digits skimmed passed the screen before her face morphed with vexation.
"This phone…" She sighed exasperated, "it's far too glitchy… I need a new one."
Apollo winced, figuring the brand and style swiftly, 'Huh, it looks a lot like Mr. Wright's new phone.'
Upon further examination of the cellular device, he saw a dangling chain attached to the corner, holding a figure at its terminal link.
"What is that?" Apollo inquired closely.
She flinched as if his forehead scorched her, "...you carry a Bum Rap Rhiny but you don't know this mascot?"
"...no…" He responded distantly, "A friend gave it to me and one of our clients. Said I could have it. I don't exactly keep tabs on that line of merchandise."
"Then again… this is a rare exclusive." She delightedly enlightened. "This is the Umpire."
Her hands basked underneath the suspended entrapped animal. Offering it for the attorney to gain a proper vantage: the elongated body, the unfurled leather violet wings with eyes spots on both sides of its levitators, the large eyes in its sockets, and the extended curling antennas above them. The piece de resistance was the tiny gavel it held in its arms. The animal in question was a butterfly.
"It's job is to watch all sides of the law, hovering above, making sure the rules are followed." She relented, "eventually making judgement when ends meet, if not, the presiding side shall be Overruled."
"You would think an animal that would pass as a judge would be larger than a butterfly…like Phony Phanty," he snided. "Something a little more intimidating…"
"That is where you are wrong. I never knew Justice could be so blind. Judge attorneys or defendants and sent to the Executioner." She finally released the dangling chain, watching it sway wildly upon release. "Justice is sentenced when the aperture is sealed. It is the judge. Phony Phanty had a magic brush. When he draws with it, all his sentences become truth. A strange old man in a black gown advised it when coming up with ideas."
'A strange old man... in a black gown?'
"That however, had to be subjected to a slight change due to a sudden outburst a year ago in court… and that the judge was brother to a bum rapped lawyer, and his enigmatic dark nature as you can see by his horns, red skin, and yellow eyes. Fitting, wouldn't you say?" She wandered. "As this Age progresses, the evolution of these plushes do too. That's why a new brand of Judge came out, more light hearted, but still watching with all eyes on the court."
"I never took you for the like of plushies." Apollo drearily commented.
"Who would not?!" Her blonde hair backlashing as she placed attention away from her phone. "They are absolutely adorable."
Her hand sneaked over her mouth in a whisper, "plus, I actually helped invest into these little critters. Reimagining the law in a... new form of image."
"You actually… invested into the Restorative Law System Campaign?" The weight of news causing his back to crane over. 'You've got to be kidding me?'
"I love how these new law enforcements look - spliced together with something lovable! Gatewater Group expanded its outlook with the Blue Badger when the theme park was a great success. Why not explore the rest of the animal kingdom in tune to the law? Defense attorneys, prosecutors, investigators, judges… On a brighter note, is it not working?" She craned her neck smugly.
"Doing the work and solving the actual crime fixes the problem." Apollo deadpanned.
"It does." She admitted. "However, the image to the general public towards the court systems cannot be 'suaded by just a handful of lawyers."
She momentarily settled her phone. "In one hand you see a lawyer. You do not know to trust him - the man or woman in a suit to present you in court. This… Dark Age." She mumbled. "...has brought forth a negative image towards you attorneys. That golden pendant you hold so dearly onto may make people look at you as a simple crook, forging and manipulating the system in your own selfish gains to justify the ends to your means..."
'... If you put it that way…' He grabbed the medal stapled to his lapel.
"Now, you need a united opinion. You lawyers require a better image. Supposedly seven long years of darkness where the court system's judgement could be easily bought out and fabricated…"She scoffed, her nails treacherously close clawing her own face, "only seven…? With no favourable view, no trust towards attorneys, what is a simple way to consciously and subconsciously sway someone?"
"I don't know." He stumped.
"Give me something to work with, Apollo!" She demanded. "How do you drag the attention of an audience?"
"AH!" He flinched, "something they like!?"
"Right you are." She receded. "In times like now, people are very much into tangibles and merchandise, and image. Grab their attention with something people like and eye catching."
Ms. Regina retracted her gaze to the streets abroad, searching, "Ah!"
She slowly braced the attorney to turn. Her pointer mounted over his shoulder, "look at that owner's dog."
Apollo sized the small animal currently linked on its chain as the owner haphazardly whistled down the sidewalk.
"What's the very first thing that comes to mind when you see the puppy?" She asked delicately near his ear.
The red attorney shrugged dismissively. "It's cute."
"What else?"
He explored the walking animal just a tad more. "It looks trained and pampered."
"Come on, Apollo. Don't think." She slyly boasted, "what impulse do you feel as soon as you see it?"
"I want to pet it."
As soon as he responded, she let go. He returned to her mantle. The look on her face was gleaming triumphancy as if he just won first place at a spelling bee. "Exactly! You want to!"
"How does that solve or do anything?" He gaped unpleased.
"You're thinking too basic! Don't be, or you'll be alkaline instead of fine. But it is good to return to the basics once in awhile." She emphasized, "We have the natural instinctive impulse and desire to coddle this animal. This first thing the human brain responds immediately to the stimuli. You can feel it in your fingertips, don't you?"
Apollo bare witness to his own hands before eyeing the dog just about to pass their perimeter. That tingle in his paws and the urge on his limbs sending that covert desire actually disturbed him.
"Now imagine that with a plush. Humans too, have a natural tendency to touch anything soft, amiable especially to texture and feature." She closed his hands together, making him stare at her, "now imagine that with a lawyer."
She stepped back, "if a person needs help and solace, with no place to receive it, again people go for comfort such as that as a pillow or plush."
'That's what the second pillow is for…'
"If a person requires legal help, 'now where am I heading off to?'" Violets enigmatically traced him. "Simple, but a powerful tool."
He reconvened, "yeah, but… isn't that idea a bit too far fetched? For plushies to cause an entire movement?"
"You? Asking me that?" She laughed, "for someone with cases as yours, you are judging me about far fetched ideas?"
"Okay, that's on me…" His horns drooped.
"It's subconscious, Apollo. It is also active in the consciousness in favor of the new cause that the law is heading towards. You barely get a dirty look in your direction just because of your profession?"
"No, at least I haven't noticed, yet." He thought aloud. 'Is this… psychology?'
"And it is working. Of course you have to make such large and wild beasts tamable and approachable, which is the plush. No logical person would ever approach a rhino or elephant unless they are aware they're tamed. Even then, there would still be that fear. Most are sold out on posters, mascots, costumes, candies and the lot on day of release." Ms. Fate nosed her phone once more, before perking an eye at him. "Advertisement at its finest. By time you realize it, it's too late."
'Junie did complain about something needing to preorder and saving a few before release…'
"Look at the time. You've gotten me tangled in my own web." She scoffed pleasantly. "To-do List. My first appointment was conducted this morning."
She struggled slightly with the glitchy device before settling back on track. "Now my second-! wait a moment…" Her expression morphing to a sullen concern. "You haven't even properly taken care of yourself this morning, have you?"
The red attorney bluntly spoke, "normally waking up in a hotel room the day after a foggy night and without a virus isn't the usual way I take care of myself in the morning..."
"Isn't it usually the other way around for most lucky people?" Regina probed before shoving her phone back into the recesses of her pocket. She shook her head displeased, "no. This won't do. You will not accompany me like that. You march yourself back up that room and get yourself spick and span!"
She leaned on her hip nettled, "you smell like… toilet cleaner."
"Awww!" He grated, 'but lady!'
"We have lots of work before heading off. Come!" Ms. Fate motioned, "we are going back in and getting you fixed right up."
Her midnight back and blonde curtain swayed as the hotel called unto them. He moped, reluctantly following Ms. Fate back into the glassy doors where he had entered earlier. The air conditioned foyer was slightly more vacant than before, save for a few ghostly occupants.
"Back so soon, Ms. Spectre?" The receptionist added respectfully.
"Yes. I have a few things to do before heading off," Regina responded in the same manner. "Do me one little favor before I head back up to the suite?"
"What is it that you need?"
"Bring Mr. Waters down here as soon as possible," she lowered her tone. "I have a few words to discuss with him."
"Oh…" The receptionist's happy go lucky facade faltered. The deathly slow proffer for the desk phone had a wobble, unable to break from the woman behind the remaining protective barrier. "Yes, ma'am."
She veered back towards the elevator, Apollo's footing nearly tripping himself as he shifted involuntarily. Those same metallic doors divided, allowing them both to enter the chamber. The tune elevated the mood as Ms. Spectre vouched, "Have you ever thought about getting your wisdom teeth removed?"
"Ugh... no." He thought oddly, "I can't afford that. They don't hurt so why bother?"
"You are a spectacle, aren't you?" She stopped for a moment before beginning, "it's rare when they fully grow out without hurting… but, a lawyer unable to afford dental?" She scorned heartbrokenly, "that does not sound too good. They may become uncomfortable in your mouth if they ever decide to… grow."
"Yeah…" He rubbed his cheeks woefully, feeling those accursed procrastinating last molars at the back of his mouth. 'Wait... how does she know I have wisdom teeth?!'
The lift discontinued to their stop, the clatter of their shoes muffled by exquisite carpet. Stopping at the ivory suite door, the card slipped into its respective place before the ajar became widened. A cleaning cart with numerous folded and fluffed towels, sheets, toiletries occupied the ranged miniature shelving. Halted the way to the dining area as they entered, was a gentleman with two tinted brown hair. Attired appropriately in Gatewater uniform, a white long sleeve fixated with a black bow at the collar caked under a beige overcoat with an elegant red lapels and dark longs slacks with matching shoes.
He addressed them with a formal bow, towel in arm. "Greetings."
"Huh," She jested playfully, "I see you're out of that costume."
He blushed heavily, "yes… it was hot in there. Returning here is a favourite, however."
"Hmmm… I checked into the room last night." Ms. Spectre stated, "I'm just momentarily returning. Mind if you come back a little later?"
"But it is not clean." He informed calmly.
"Neither is he." She indirectly shrugged to her guest. "Please have his clothes cleaned up again. I would more than appreciate it if it landed at the 'top of the pile' this time."
"Yes, ma'am!" He wheeled the cart, "I'll return shortly to pick up your belongings, sir. They would be ready in a half hour or so. I also replaced the items in the bathroom and cleaned the bedding. All is missing is the breakfast set."
"That's fine." She waved. "Thank you."
The click of the door had Ms. Fate face the echo, "odd… he would rather remain bellboy than manager?"
"Maybe he's happy where he's at?" Apollo added.
"You may be right." She dismissed. "You are lucky that I rented a suite for a day: last night and until the afternoon. Take advantage of the moment and get yourself preppy."
'You want me to get behind my ears, too?'
"I wash this hair in beer." She ran her fingers through the rebellious lock on hair first place to her ear. "It's how I get it so blonde."
"I thought beer washed out sorrows not color." He remarked.
"Then you, sir, have some issues that need to be sorted." She blindly fished for the entrance knob, "once in awhile we need sharp young who will do well carrying out duties and sometimes we need those who look good in a suit and make progress." She peered over her shoulder secretively with a wink, "don't tell Chesh, though! He's very sensitive."
'Who's we?' He dropped. "Which category do I land on?"
She shrugged nonchalantly, "we'll see… sometimes those young graduate."
And there, he was left in solitude. The labored boast he kept deflated into a flaccid reluctant mope, 'the things I do for answers…'
Justice reconvened with the hotel room as if the day had flowed into reverse. The enigmatic steps into the suite offered the impression he hadn't set foot in the Wright Anything Agency at all this morning. The first goal she instructed clearly for him is to clean himself and offer his clothing to the bellboy for a pickup.
'Might as well get started…' He paused as the realization kicked in, 'why am I taking a shower in the first place?!'
Placed into the room like a scolded child, he grumbled to himself until the memorable decaying stench of utilized disinfectant that removed all the unwanted from the think tank of the office hit him hard on the nostril, causing him to crinkle on the face. "Yeah… gotta use it…"
The attorney marched into the lavatory. He stumped how amazing this suite bathroom was the size of his bedroom. It boggled him how much room he could possibly do a comfortable summersault into the shower space. What galumphed Apollo was the topic on how he would style his hair afterwards promptly from the rainfall dousing his horns down to his brows. This grand apartment, as he called it, had massive toiletries to accommodate all proper methods of hygiene. The ones he searched for however was yet to be discovered.
His visage met his own daftly as his fingers tucked behind the mirror, displacing just a moment to search.
"Heck yeah!"
The awarded bibelots clenched happily in fists. "Hairspray and a comb!"
Nothing caulked his fiery determination now! Those stripped garbs met the outside hanger of the door before the corpulent downpour of a shower welcomed him as the grand entrance to a throne.
Who would have ever thought a single change in angle could make the experience of a shower much more refreshing. The waterfall designed architectural head doused his being undividedly, allowing much more tedious tasks to be effortlessly done and scrubbed. As with any accompanying enjoyment of flowing water came the stream of thought.
'Ms. Spectre is part of the Restorative Campaign… I can just imagine the look on Junie's face when she realizes I'm talking to a representative for the Restorative Law Campaign. She might ask me to vouch for a discount…
Could that be a reason why she's very interested in the Wright Anything Agency? Sure, I have to represent the office, so she threw me up here. She did speak about image. Looks like I'm going to be tagging along. I hope she doesn't manhandle like that again!' The worried flinched causing several droplets to spring randomly onto the walls. '...Then how come she didn't represent herself to the office? Why just me?' He egocentrically smirked to himself causing his voice to reverberate in the tiled room, "I am Apollo Justice."
'Unless, she didn't come to the office because how Athena first reacted to her? But she was totally fine at the party… both of them!' He cringed at the moment his younger associate of the law office skipped his mind. The water suddenly becoming hotter as his body reflectively heated. The dial twisted under his command, creating the colder temperament to follow suit.
She is hanging out with Blackquill. No biggie, right? She does that all the time! Yet that carping nettlesome rancid furor balling in his brain persistently clung to the matter. They were intending on finishing their simple little game, to which he gladly claimed the self pronounced crown he conjured in his own mind, once more. Perhaps the solitary inaudible figment to ever remain sequestered to the entirety of the office body was that same ritualistic cacophonic session he conducted every morning, relinquished the turmoiled momentum within. He and his deceased best friend would drive the other occupants of the very childhood local he was raised to the threshold of adulthood insane. They pelted their eardrums to ring whenever they were ever mellow, especially towards Clay. Later, they would discuss how the Milky Way and moon danced to their constellational pattern.
Yet, the third party, which is the opposition on the regular basis of the courtroom dilemma, barges in unannounced explains absolutely nothing and she made haste without giving a second glance or without publicizing a return. His teeth clenched maddeningly. Particularly dithering if the subject of her sudden upheaval of leaving him or that the fact on how swift her preference had switched to the prosecutor - the opposing team, was creating this discombobulated vortex
If it had not been the thrumming roaring water drowning the sound of the background, he would have completed his task sooner. His ears suddenly perked. The dreary lingering weight on his shoulders, the mystifying motion at his feet, the sudden light weightedness of his body and the tension ebbing like rivulets along his spine.
The opaque patterned window barrier born from the misty breaths of warm steam leadened the light of the bathroom. The patters of rain striking the floor filled the room of dead silence. Branching like the overflow of a drainage from the bottom, the shadow climbed the monotonous solace divider from the lump forming, growing larger and larger as it inched closer in escalation, swelling in opacity. The silhouette of a figure halted behind the wall of seclusion. At the side, a part disassembled, forming the arm upward. Something in hand, by what he can make out. Thin and long, clutched in the ball of a closed fist. The eery screeching strings of violins creeped in the back of his mind, readying the imminent wake of this dagger looking object to contact skin. With impulsive apprehension, the divider veiled to encounter his menacing stalker aiming to redecorate the lavatory into a future abattoir.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
"Calm down!" The person commanded, staring at his draped horns at his forehead.
His hostess agitatedly grabbed her ear with her free arm after the piercing shriek nearly intensified to the strength of a flashbang grenade detonating right next to her canal. After the nail board grinding shrill died out, she relaxed insouciantly as her unadulterated reflex returned.
"Someone was selling samples around the mid hallway as I went to deliver your clothing... I just got this new strip of fragrance." She wavered the long thin piece of paper at the tips of her fingers. "Eau de Toilette."
The light waft proliferated her mood.
"It's called Unforgivable Mistress…," she grinned mischievously. "I was wondering if you'd want to see the selection yourself."
"N-no… I'm fine…" He stammered shakily, water secretly attempting to splash at her feet as he awkwardly stood diagonally to conceal any modesty left.
She shrugged nonchalantly before exiting the bathroom.
He raked the moonless auburn brown hair himself as he graced the comb to his scalp. Getting those all time famous two horned spikes like a champ was the goal. He was not familiar with the brand of hairspray the hotel courtesy provided, but it executed its function faultlessly. He hadn't the need to comb off excess talc that would appear as his own, giving off the impression his dome referenced a dandruff dilemma.
Save for his appointment, his premeditated meet with his hostess was on hold before the bellboy could return. The most of what he can salvage is the new ivory robe hung to the bathroom wall. The steam wafting out of the warm bathroom followed as he made himself comfortable on the sitting area section. 'Looks like she hasn't come back yet…'
Curiously, he peeked outside of the window, surveying the building across from the hotel. He dare not rubberneck at the ever shifting and ever so miniature roads and people below. The very notion inducing his toes to curl and prickle from the burden of his not so keen love to tall heights.
Most large industries you see today started from simple places… law firms… and they are formidable. Perceive it now - the whole firm. That is up to you to decide.
"She's seriously into the Restorative Law System Campaign?" He muzzled over, the simple office currently homed in the complex building. He can count the amount of clients they had defended overall in three hands. The countless amount of people stepping into that very same law firm he had done a little over a year and a half ago packed to the brim on wrongful charges. Requesting all three lawyers under that roof to take the case by the neck and put it in a chokehold!
'That was weird…'
"You were the one here last night."
"ACK!"
Apollo's body ricocheted watching that unscathed phlegmatic bow of the bellboy.
"Sorry, sir," the bellboy happily apologized. His fingers bent at perfect angles, withholding that unmistakable red suit in tow. "Your clothes have been cleansed. Dry cleaned, pressed and steamed as the tag suggested."
If his clothes were anymore linearly folded, as soon as he would finish dressing up, he'd fold back into place. "Thanks!"
"For my lateness, I also apologize for the inconvenience of being here earlier. I would have thought this room would be empty. The staff have been out of whack lately when informing each other as of late."
"It's fine." Apollo boasted, "you don't have to apologize for everything."
The bellboy passively accepted with another bow, "did you leave this here? I was scrubbing the place and found it near the dining set. I thought it would be important."
The employee handed the attorney a sleeve of paper in between to heedful gloved fingers.
"What's this? A piece of paper?" Apollo skimmed quickly at the page as it landed in his possession. 'It has a date written on it… It's hardly legible… '12/16/27' - Is that a code? Or a date? December 16, 2027? It must've come from that notebook she had.'
"The Miracle." He spoke aloud. 'The rest is a bunch of equations, shapes and numbers I don't even understand…! I haven't seen anything this complicated since...,' he swallowed as the violating trembles reached his feet. 'Calculus…!'
"It must be if I found it before I threw it away!" He gladly reminded. "Stay awhile… stay forever!"
'What about the staff being out of whack, again?' His focus returning to the page. 'I'm going to keep this for a bit.'
The paper creased and folded clumsily into the neatly folded apparel.
"Just not in this room, I have to finish cleaning it," he added, quickly. "If you do not mind, I will return when you are done."
"Sure!" Apollo grinned widely. "Do you know, Ms. Fate well?"
"Not much, but she gives amazing tips and tips." He clamored with slightly more thrill than his tone can elevate. "She came here yesterday with two other men, besides you! Must have been one exciting night."
"Not really." He deadpanned.
"Ms. Spectre is part of the Gatewater Group here. They visited earlier today. Her assistance helped the place much more since a shareholder suddenly pulled out a few years ago." He blushed heavily, his face growing exceedingly red, "it's one reason I enjoy her company. I worked both at Gatewater land and as manager here once due to the sudden cuts."
"So she's a big help here." Apollo added amusedly.
"Certainly!" He upheld, "I can finally return here as bellboy. I prefer to see more people than sit at an office and dictate tasks when I can do them myself."
'I guess he is happy where he's at.'
"I recommend you dress quickly and go downstairs." The bellboy inquired politely. "You are her lawyer, right?"
"Well, sorta…" Apollo rubbed those horns downward unsurely bashfully.
"She's about to execute the top manager at the foyer. It's one reason I am glad I am no longer manager either." He spoke unashamed. "I think you should go help her. Or save him."
'Save him?'
"As she said on her way down, 'we are all just prisoners here, of our own device. He has trapped himself.'"
"I'll go see what's up." Apollo readily prepared his clothing to adorn his limbs.
"You certainly are different from the men previously here…" He piqued whilst walking away with his cart, "don't take my word for it."
The red attorney apparelled himself just that when he finally considered his physique ready for the day. Tie was on nicely and he didn't even have to readjust his hair when speedashing. The elevator couldn't have come any sooner. The insistent urge of him nearly creasing the button from the socket urged that his presence was required. His body commanding to move quickly as the illuminated numerals cascaded orderly down their destination. The brown shoes ferociously tapped the elevator base as the lift calm to a halt as the voice in his head coordinated. Hurry!
There in the revisited foyer presented situation yet to have commence. His hostess face to face with a fairly short portly man in the usual getup the bellboy had similarly attired. Half balding, bushy mustache and waving desperate hands nearly doing karate chop motions fervently in defense of argument. If the gloves had motioned faster, they would have caught on fire by now.
"Ms. Spectre please!" The man begged, "we would accommodate for the-!"
Her eyes grew a deathly flash of white. "What a surprise, but there are no alibis… I knew you were hiding this morning." Her scowl fixated, ready to launch a nuke. "Trying to avoid the meeting? I gave specific details on how I desired the dinner party to be conducted. It is absolutely embarrassing that all the numerous politics, VIP members, city officials, and most importantly the Master of Kurain to be treated like children at a cafeteria luncheon…!"
Apollo glided frictionlessly down the mini flight of stairs, adagio convening pace as to not exacerbate the ensuing argument.
"Looks like you're having a bad time," Apollo instituted as he stepped down next to Regina.
"Along came Apollo," her face morphed pleasantly to his presence. The rich lady offered a jocose nod to his more presentable feature. "Spiffy."
"Who is this?" The man close to suggesting Apollo as nothing more than a bothersome instigator.
"You really don't pay attention to your surroundings, do you, Mr. Waters?" Her brow scrunching unpleasantly towards the manager's fetid inclination. "This is a renowned lawyer, the law firm he works with is right across from this hotel…" Her head beckoning back, outward towards the street.
"O-oh…" The flame catching sprinkles of water. "Nice to meet you, sir."
'Renowned?' Apollo grinned to himself, absorbing the comment to his little wit, 'I'll take it!'
"A lawyer?" The manager's bulbous shoulders sagged in despair. "Ms. Spectre, you're not planning on placing a lawsuit, are you?!"
Her hand nestled under the elbow escalated intriguingly to her chin.
"The idea never crossed my mind, but now that you mention it…" Her glance trailed off to the red attorney by her side, the concoction of fabricated concepts displaying on that ruminative expression as Apollo and her met eye to eye.
The fidgeted hands tantrumed once more as sweat flew off his brows. "But please, ma'am! It was an unexpected mistake. Our caterer for that night has gone missing!"
Her brow flexed upward, "missing?"
"Yes! Yes," He stuttered. "The caterer in charge of this week's parties went kaput! He hasn't been seen this passed week. Not only your party had been free lanced, but every party this week as well. We are currently rescheduling or compensating. We will be willing to flip the bill for any inconvenience." His nervous trembling fingers attempted to remain still.
"Hmmm…," she trailed off, "I guess your law firm won't be required again... yet." She careened to her side, Apollo catching her side glance once more. "There was a demand to bring back multiple zeros behind the account anyway."
"Thank you! Right away and this day will be on the house as well!" He clapped his hands together.
'I didn't have to say anything! She just stared at me with suggestion and they flipped!'
"I try not to make wrong choices. Only investments." Her glare ignited, eyeing him skeptically. "What I cannot understand is that there was ample time to inform me beforehand, if what you say is true."
The man's hands threw themselves upward, almost in preparation on the receiving end of corporal punishment.
She sighed, her hands nearing her own visage aggravated, "what do you think, Apollo?"
"Me?! Ehm-!" He stammered, eyeing her death rattle then the top manager.
"I'm consulting on legal advice. What action do you think we should take on Mr. Waters?"
The manager swallowed several times in his throat, shrinking in his spot as his quaking hands begged to spare him. Perceiving him now with ease, he shook pathetically, shriveling once more as his torment has not yet ceased. Ms. Fate was asking just that. He would easily dismiss it as a mistake, but there were lots of high classed people and officials. The situation felt alien yet imbolding. His cases just led to the to so simple acquittal, but Ms. Fate is asking for legal action in a different fashion.
'When choosing a client on my part, my desire is to trust them to know that you will not use me… Believing in myself, my judgement, is dependent on my client.'
He avoided her, intentionally. He tried to escape the truth and run from Fate. This was a grand hotel, branched out and the top manager deceived the trust. It boiled him. Finally ensnared and now he's begging? What he could not fathom however, was why did she not handle it herself?
'Why is she asking me?'
She awaited as well as the shaking manager as he was allowed to act role of consigliere.
'It was one mistake, right? One person's mistake should not be paid for by another… This ugly domino effect happening due to one mishap. Ms. Fate was deep in their projects. Retreating would disassemble most of it, just after an unexpected relapse. He was treated well in all honesty. The decision Ms. Fate coveted from him was his verdict. The judge was waiting for his side.
Guilty or not guilty?
The blood red attorney cleared his throat, crossing his arms before voicing himself.
"You should just let it go. He's compensating and the staff are nice. I think it's something we can look over. Besides..." He played with his tie smugly at her, "I enjoyed the party!"
She ingested his opinion, digesting well before crossing once more with the manager in wonderment of regurgitation. The conclusion terminated her final judgement with a smirk, "I guess my lawyer has more clemency than I thought. You have a momentary relief from the existential terrors of big business, Mr. Waters. Do NOT do it again."
The manager gave off his best impression of a blueberry, witholding his breath as his anguished face shared the same shades as Apollo's attire upon release. "I won't. I apologize…"
Her exasperated sigh playful on containing little emotion. "Looks like I won't be your first client for the day."
"That's too bad," Apollo smugly remarked, gaining another terrorizing startle from the flustered manager to the point the hairs twitched atop his lip and another inch of hair falling to the floor.
'I guess he's learned his lesson,' Apollo could not help the ebullient potency extracted from the out of court cogency. The thew in those red perceivers snaked and slithered vehemently in their sockets. The gratification predominantly consisting from the chief manager's usurpation. His heart later pacifyed from the newfound psychedelic.
"Another thing," Ms. Spectre defaced the silence, "let me know if you find the caterer."
"Yes, ma'am." The manager retreated solemnly in a mope.
The same hand that held his face earlier that day gave an affirming soft squeeze to his clean and gleam dress shirt. Her chin upwardly cut the air as she grinned jauntily, "let's go, Apollo."
