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DDD Moderators ([personal profile] tripled_mods) wrote in [community profile] ddd_news2010-08-03 08:27 pm
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APPLICATIONS -- 2010; 001

THIS APPLICATIONS POST IS CLOSED. Please direct your attention to the new one here!
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Kristoph Gavin | Ace Attorney | Idgie's fault

[identity profile] coolestinwest.livejournal.com 2011-03-15 07:51 pm (UTC)(link)
First Person (entry type):I'd once thought that I understood what it meant to be bored: a slow, boring day would be filled with paperwork and little else, necessary but unexciting routine. It's nothing compared to my daily life now. Routine once again but with absolutely no purpose. Really, it's not even the fact of imprisonment that I find dreary - it's the lack of anything stimulating, really. I reassure myself fairly often that it could be far worse but I can't say it's particularly effective.

It's simply a good thing that I'm not as empty-headed as some of my associates here. I do believe I would have lost all sense of self long ago otherwise.

Third Person: This was quite a step down from what he'd been used to.

Before that final day in court, it had almost been like a short stay in a hotel. He'd had everything he could have asked for - filled bookshelves, armchair, a violin, even a vase of flowers. A home away from home of sorts. He was allowed to keep his pristine suit, to pamper himself. In fact, it had all been rather amusing on one level - imprisonment was no joke, to be sure, but this was practically luxury, all paid for by the state! It was fairly obvious that few people sincerely believed he could have killed that Shadi Smith. He'd thought it was merely a matter of time before he would find that one loophole, a gap to wriggle through and then he could once again work on his goal of ruining Phoenix Wright.

Or so it had been.

Now... well. The face staring back from the cracked and spotted mirror looked as if it belonged to a stranger, contorted not just by the mirror but by a scowl that he hadn't quite been able to smooth away just yet, not since he had seen his new living area. He'd been accustomed to keeping his hair in top condition, perfectly styled, glossy. It hung limply now, strands dangling in front of his eyes, he hadn't bothered to try doing anything with it all since that trial. And his eyes... he used to be able to fake a smile oh-so-easily, could even make the expression reach his eyes, those windows to the soul. If that were true, then what would someone see now? Thinly suppressed anger, perhaps - but suppressed all the same. A dancing light of madness in the back somewhere... he'd kept that hidden very well, for a very long time and the only people who had ever seen it were those that he thought could never touch him. The only thing truly familiar about this reflection was his pair of glasses, primly balanced on the bridge of his nose as usual. They offered the only barrier between that window and everyone else: for now, at least. He would reclaim that control.

He glanced down and the scowl intensified with distaste. This was the worst, the most unforgivable part, the thing that to him, at least, truly meant he was not himself. His nails, usually so carefully manicured and cared for, were dirty, grime already finding its way under them. What had he said to Wright? One cannot live a beautiful life without beautiful nails. A metaphor of sorts. Yes. And looking at the state of them now - it was not encouraging. It could only get worse. He clenched his right hand suddenly, feeling the nails bite into the flesh of his palm, knowing that he could expect to see little crescent ridges imprinted there. The old scar tensed. He didn't care. When he knew that the men responsible for his incarceration were happily going about their lives...

His brother. When he had done everything he could to help the younger Gavin, even after all that! And the same for Justice, all the work he'd put into mentoring that boy, only for it to be thrown right back in his face, it was nothing short of an insult. And Wright. Wright. He had heard that the man might be retaking the bar. It almost made his blood boil. The nails dug deeper.

He sucked in a breath. Let it out slowly. No. Even now, that would not do. Control. Right when it seemed all was lost, that was the time to remember what he had. He had his life, such as it was. And more importantly, he had time. He slowly loosened his fist, one finger at a time. That was right. All the time in the world to wreak his own version of justice.

APPROVED

[identity profile] nonesodangerous.livejournal.com 2011-03-17 01:03 am (UTC)(link)
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