mixingbowl | Let's get together, yeah yeah yeah

[The file's been in Apollo's hands for a few days now, and he still has no idea what he's supposed to do. He'd mistakenly grabbed it while cleaning up the office (hey, someone has to do it, if Mr. Wright won't), only to realize it contained the details of the Misham case. Details his boss hadn't shared with him. It had stung a little at first; Apollo had thought Kristoph's deeds catching up to him would mean the end of all the secrecy, but apparently he'd been wrong. Then, the dismay had quickly turned into confusion.

Thalassa Gramarye, the note clipped to the photo reads. Sure, she's beautiful, and Apollo can even see the resemblance between her and Trucy if he looks for it, but that isn't what catches his attention whenever he sees the picture. The bracelets are an exact match for his, and Apollo can scarcely believe what that might mean. Though there are million questions clamoring in his mind for answers (Does Mr. Wright know anything about this? Why didn't he say anything?), Apollo turns his thoughts to the one person he knows he should be talking to about this--Trucy. Much as he wants to get Clay's opinion on the whole thing, Apollo balks at sharing the information with anyone else. It feels...wrong, somehow.]

Are you busy today? [Apollo deletes his half-written texts about six times before he finally sends the short question over. Not for the first time, he's grateful to have text as a buffer against Trucy's keen eyesight for a little while longer. It's been hard enough avoiding her suspicion since he found the file. Now, all he can do is wait for her to reply.]

[ The day started out like any other -- especially now that it's summer. Trucy's slept in late today, after studying for exams and projects thrown at her left and right, she's deserved a break like this. ESPECIALLY with her dad gone yet again on another 'super secret mission' that isn't that super secret to her, at least. She's heard him on the phone with Edgeworth, after all.

It's late afternoon at this point, and she's finally up and about. She's in the office still, of course, but in the little room she's designated as her 'bedroom' of sorts. She's been busy practicing various tricks here and there, namely the more dangerous ones she knows her dad wouldn't be happy to find out about. Today, it's throwing knives.

She's set up a large piece of wood, so not to ruin the wall of course, and she's been busily throwing her knives at it. Some stick, others don't... it's frustrating. But practice makes perfect, and she's not going to let this get the best of her. She picks up the knives to try again; a knife is hurled as hard as she can at the board, except this time it sets off a chain reaction of sorts -- it rebounds off of a knife she couldn't get un-stuck from said board with a soft clink, and it happens so fast Trucy has no time to react when it flies right back at her and cuts directly across the top of her left arm.

She's not even sure what happened at first, not until she feels a sudden searing pain coming from her arm and something very wet and warm rolling down her skin. Looking at the damage, she has to cringe a little -- it's deep, and she's pretty sure she's never bled quite this much in her entire life. Initially, panic sets in, as she quickly uses a hand to try and keep the blood from hitting the carpet.

She's not sure if Apollo is still in the office or not -- she's hoping not, because he's going to freak, she's afraid -- but she has no choice but to try and get to the bathroom to get some water on this wound, and to use the mirror to further look at it. She's not sure if she'll need to go to the hospital or not, either.

Slowly, she slides out of her room and down the stairs, wincing every time a drop of blood hits the ground. At least it's not carpeted anymore. She tip toes to the bottom and glances around, before trying to casually slide into the bathroom. The door shuts with a soft click, and she leans over the sink as she removes her hand from the wound, paling as an entire handful of blood splatters onto the white porcelain. ]

Uh-oh...

no subject

[ Case 2 - insert witty case name here ]