great. it's just his luck he'd be the one stuck with farming duty. he couldn't even have time to mope about it, unless he wants to risk ruining the crops, and apollo definitely doesn't want that hanging over his conscious. so he does his best to look on the bright side of things. yeah! there's always one of those. a little exercise in the great outdoors. sure, the weather isn't perfect, but it's better than being cooped up in his house with not a lot to do.
at least this way he can give back a little, help the people out. it may not be defending, but it's a start around here. and really, lawyer or not, apollo won't turn down those in need. he approaches the fields, ready to get started until... a swarm of armed scarecrows, one or two of them with torches, block his path. rather menacingly, at that. apollo jerks back, and he has... nothing to protect himself with.) Oh come on, who lets scarecrows have weapons!? Especially torches! Aren't you guys running the risk of letting yourselves on fire!?
(that actually causes them to hesitate, realizing he does have a valid point. don't they technically run the risk of the entire field going up in flames, too? maybe if he can just reason with them as to why fighting is such a bad idea, they'll let him go.)
(2.
this is something a bit more up to speed with apollo's tastes. simply chasing the bunnies out of the fields. it's an activity he has more fun with than the others, memories surfacing of a small, brown bunny he had years ago and how dearly he cared for it. it brings a smile to his face, one rarely seen, and he's practically glowing from the thought alone. he shoos the bunnies away with a smile and a soft command to scamper away from the crops everyone worked so hard on.
not long later, he comes across a rather adorable little white bunny, as though someone just picked up and shaped a lob of snow. and gave it... creepy red eyes? he doesn't think much of it, ready to just give it a little scare to get it out of the fields. this plan goes horribly awry when the furry little creature leaps at him, leaving apollo narrowly dodging what was sure to have been a rather nasty bite. he yelps as he continues dodging, eventually straight up running away from the little hell spawn.) When did rabbits become carnivorous!? Seriously, isn't this a bit much!? I didn't even do anything!
f
(1.
because of course apollo justice is the one stuck investigating nerd zombies. sure, he could've gotten something else, like a lovely meadow or a regal castle, but no. let's give him creepy labs with lights that flicker, nightmare inducing moans, you know, like something out of a horror movie. they may be weak, but apollo being stuck with only a large stick as his weapon is definitely not going to help matters much at all.
especially not when being pelted with various office supplies and backed more and more into a corner. he dodges notebooks, pens, small containers of paperclips and rubber bands, but the creepiest part is when long, not quite flesh colored arms reach out with weak moans. and apollo, in return, weakly swats them away with his stick. yeah, he's had better plans.) ... I'm seriously not cut out for this, I just want to go home.
(sos send help, idiot red lawyer in way over his head. almost literally, with how these zombies are starting to pile up.)
(3.
this was more like it. a simple collection job, all he needed to do was grab as many of these little crystals as possible, right? collecting evidence came easy to him, handling the liquid carefully based on the warning he was given before coming. pangs of sadness definitely washed over now and then, so he made a point to take breaks. not grab too much at once unless he wished to risk feeling real emotional pain.
but curiosity got the better of him, as he went about examining the rest of the room, just to take a peek and really learn what this place was all about. unknowingly, he moved just the wrong object on a shelf, which was apparently propping a few other things up. flipping through items unaware, it's moments later that a jar of said liquid wobbles over the edge just enough... to have the entirety of its contents dumped straight on apollo. he'd cry out in frustration over his misfortune, but something else hits him before the urge to do that.
it's like slamming into a boulder, the way every grieving and painful memory rushes back into his mind as though it happened only moments ago. names flow through his mind, one after the other, each hitting home more painfully than the one before it. dad. mom. clay. dhurke. faces flash alongside the names, bright and smiling like he wishes he remembered them. those dissipate, and he's only left with their crime scene photos. a young man his age with a knife in his chest. a man far older than him with three bullets in his chest. the feeling of falling over, a small crying baby in front, with the last memory being that of pain. a vague silhouette of a woman, one he couldn't pinpoint.
it's a slow, robotic movement as his arms raise up, fingers clenching in the fabric of his shirt as he hugs himself, staring down at the ground and trembling. using all of his power not to burst into tears right there. for those who dare to get close to him at a time like this, they'll hear him mumbling "i'm fine, i'm fine" over and over.
apollo justice // ace attorney (possible spoilers for spirit of justice)
(1.
great. it's just his luck he'd be the one stuck with farming duty. he couldn't even have time to mope about it, unless he wants to risk ruining the crops, and apollo definitely doesn't want that hanging over his conscious. so he does his best to look on the bright side of things. yeah! there's always one of those. a little exercise in the great outdoors. sure, the weather isn't perfect, but it's better than being cooped up in his house with not a lot to do.
at least this way he can give back a little, help the people out. it may not be defending, but it's a start around here. and really, lawyer or not, apollo won't turn down those in need. he approaches the fields, ready to get started until... a swarm of armed scarecrows, one or two of them with torches, block his path. rather menacingly, at that. apollo jerks back, and he has... nothing to protect himself with.) Oh come on, who lets scarecrows have weapons!? Especially torches! Aren't you guys running the risk of letting yourselves on fire!?
(that actually causes them to hesitate, realizing he does have a valid point. don't they technically run the risk of the entire field going up in flames, too? maybe if he can just reason with them as to why fighting is such a bad idea, they'll let him go.)
(2.
this is something a bit more up to speed with apollo's tastes. simply chasing the bunnies out of the fields. it's an activity he has more fun with than the others, memories surfacing of a small, brown bunny he had years ago and how dearly he cared for it. it brings a smile to his face, one rarely seen, and he's practically glowing from the thought alone. he shoos the bunnies away with a smile and a soft command to scamper away from the crops everyone worked so hard on.
not long later, he comes across a rather adorable little white bunny, as though someone just picked up and shaped a lob of snow. and gave it... creepy red eyes? he doesn't think much of it, ready to just give it a little scare to get it out of the fields. this plan goes horribly awry when the furry little creature leaps at him, leaving apollo narrowly dodging what was sure to have been a rather nasty bite. he yelps as he continues dodging, eventually straight up running away from the little hell spawn.) When did rabbits become carnivorous!? Seriously, isn't this a bit much!? I didn't even do anything!
f
(1.
because of course apollo justice is the one stuck investigating nerd zombies. sure, he could've gotten something else, like a lovely meadow or a regal castle, but no. let's give him creepy labs with lights that flicker, nightmare inducing moans, you know, like something out of a horror movie. they may be weak, but apollo being stuck with only a large stick as his weapon is definitely not going to help matters much at all.
especially not when being pelted with various office supplies and backed more and more into a corner. he dodges notebooks, pens, small containers of paperclips and rubber bands, but the creepiest part is when long, not quite flesh colored arms reach out with weak moans. and apollo, in return, weakly swats them away with his stick. yeah, he's had better plans.) ... I'm seriously not cut out for this, I just want to go home.
(sos send help, idiot red lawyer in way over his head. almost literally, with how these zombies are starting to pile up.)
(3.
this was more like it. a simple collection job, all he needed to do was grab as many of these little crystals as possible, right? collecting evidence came easy to him, handling the liquid carefully based on the warning he was given before coming. pangs of sadness definitely washed over now and then, so he made a point to take breaks. not grab too much at once unless he wished to risk feeling real emotional pain.
but curiosity got the better of him, as he went about examining the rest of the room, just to take a peek and really learn what this place was all about. unknowingly, he moved just the wrong object on a shelf, which was apparently propping a few other things up. flipping through items unaware, it's moments later that a jar of said liquid wobbles over the edge just enough... to have the entirety of its contents dumped straight on apollo. he'd cry out in frustration over his misfortune, but something else hits him before the urge to do that.
it's like slamming into a boulder, the way every grieving and painful memory rushes back into his mind as though it happened only moments ago. names flow through his mind, one after the other, each hitting home more painfully than the one before it. dad. mom. clay. dhurke. faces flash alongside the names, bright and smiling like he wishes he remembered them. those dissipate, and he's only left with their crime scene photos. a young man his age with a knife in his chest. a man far older than him with three bullets in his chest. the feeling of falling over, a small crying baby in front, with the last memory being that of pain. a vague silhouette of a woman, one he couldn't pinpoint.
it's a slow, robotic movement as his arms raise up, fingers clenching in the fabric of his shirt as he hugs himself, staring down at the ground and trembling. using all of his power not to burst into tears right there. for those who dare to get close to him at a time like this, they'll hear him mumbling "i'm fine, i'm fine" over and over.
maybe if he says it enough, it'll be true.)