Crime Scene Rescue
Oct. 30th, 2021 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerBased on what I’m pretty sure was a panic attack followed by a postdrome sort of thing earlier in the week. It veered off into some weird territory in the end but I think I was needing the fluff, and I’m keeping it because I really like some of the dialogue.
...this song. this song. I just started looking at Tokio Hotel because I've got Übers Ende Der Welt on my Turnabout Histories playlist for Klavier, noticed the title and went...huh...and then google translated the lyrics and went huh, because this song is all of Klavier's anxiety and breakdown in the wake of the end of Apollo Justice, and the feels. The feels. Also it's perfect for this fic, so. Ja.
Main Points:
Ace Attorney
Chapter Summary: Klavier's acting a bit off.
Word Count: 1225
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Klavier has a crush on Apollo that he hasn't managed to convince him is legit yet. Partly because Apollo has observation powers and still manages to miss the obvious.
Warning: brief flashback to Kristoph being Kristoph.
any German is a mix of the dreaded google translate and really, really old personal memory (like, elementary school lessons), please hit me with any constructive criticism or corrections
“Uh. What do you mean, ‘broke him’?” he asks warily, because, well. He’s seen firsthand how much Ema doesn’t like Klavier, but it doesn’t seem to be mutual, because her insults just seem to amuse him.
“Talk to him. You’ll see what I mean. It’s got everyone on edge.” She immediately starts snacking, as if admitting that much was the worst thing in the world.
Trucy’s gotten really quiet as soon as it became clear Klavier was involved, but as they walk down the path toward the prosecutor she finally speaks up, really, really quietly, “I hope he’s all right.”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t wish his rival harm, or anything, even with how annoyingly over-the-top as he can be sometimes. And it’s pretty clear, watching his body language right now (a language Apollo’s become fluent in over the past year, whether or not he actually feels like it) that there’s, indeed, something wrong, because he’s too quiet, too still. As they get close, Apollo tries to see what Klavier could possibly be looking at, and can’t find anything. It looks like the prosecutor is just…staring at a wall.
“I guess you’re the prosecutor on this case?” he asks, and the blond legitimately jumps. It’s not cartoonish, no, but still.
He turns, natural-looking smile on his lips and in his eyes, and greets them normally. Well. In some definition of normally. “Herr Stirni, Fraulein. Ja, lucky you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Trucy wince, and if the tell is glaring enough Trucy can tell…
Well, no, that’s not quite charitable. She’s bright and picks up on things like that easily, but also, Prosecutor Gavin is usually so much more subtle than this. It’s not usually big lies, not usually something that strangles Apollo’s wrist, and his rival must have noticed something about how he reacts to lies but he’s done his best to cut out even the little things, like the overly cheerful act when he’s not feeling it. At least, not when they’re alone. Apparently, that mask is for other people, and Apollo feels privileged he gets to see Klavier more honest and open.
“Whatever’s going on with you, I’m going to help. If it’s bad enough it has Ema worried…” He trails off meaningfully, and the blond winces.
“Ach, that’s—I’m sorry,” he stutters lamely, and Apollo shakes his head.
“You should probably be telling her that yourself,” he points out, and if anything the prosecutor looks worse.
“Ja, wahrschein.” They just stand there, Klavier with his plasticky smile, the one he reserves for paparazzi and tabloids, and Apollo and Trucy waiting for something—anything—else. “…Would you like a personally guided tour of the crime scene?”
“I’m still waiting for you to not look like you want to throw up,” Apollo continues bluntly.
The smile cracks, just a little. Like porcelain. It also looks like it hurts, despite the whole fact that this is a metaphor. “Can we—can we not do this yet, bitte?” Immediately, Apollo places the tone, though it takes him longer than it should have to realize why that would be the case. It’s desperate. Scared. Like the blond is a kid with no control of the situation, and Apollo can’t fathom why he’d be concerned, Justice isn’t the type to—
A memory rises to the surface. Kristoph, giving him his most scathing feedback in public, scolding him if he ever became too passionate in his own defense, making a scene in public, when will you learn the decorum befitting of a lawyer—
Ah. And Apollo had learned from the man; there had to be some sort of mannerisms he’d picked up or something that are probably causing Klavier to feel worse, not better. Great. Well, at least actions speak louder than words, even if those words are Chords of Steel. “Absolutely. Whenever you’re ready. In the meantime, is there anything we can do to help?”
Trucy casts him a questioning glance, while Klavier blinks slowly like it’d taken him a moment to even translate the words, and he’d never expected that and doesn’t know what to do with it. He seems to come back to himself a little as a small, real smile escapes. “Ah…the offer was genuine, though I don’t know I’ll be of much use. Es tut mir Leid.”
“Eh, if it means you’ll go easy on me in court, I’ll take it,” he jokes, and from the way Klavier reacts—no jokes. Got it. “I’m kidding. Mostly. We make a great team in court, but you’re still good enough to make me nervous every time.”
“I—I’m sorry, I give you nerves?” The prosecutor actually trips slightly on the very, very smooth, very straight path as he follows them, and in any other situation Apollo would let himself snicker. This is never being spoken of again.
Apollo shrugs and does his best to sound casual. “Yeah. I mean, I’m sure the guilty party, whoever they might be, is going behind bars when I see your name, but still. It’d only be more intense if it was Prosecutor Edgeworth instead. I have no idea how Mr. Wright managed to face off against him all those times without having a heart attack.”
“Blatantly flirting with the opposing counsel, perhaps?” Klavier suggests, and, yes, good. He still sounds exhausted, and kind of far away, and polite, and subdued, but there’s a spark there that wasn’t before. And—hang on.
“Wait, is that your strategy? Do I make you nervous?” he asks incredulously, because the witness statements are connecting in the most ludicrous manner possible. Objection, that makes absolutely no sense.
“Ach—that’s probably enough secret-sharing for the moment, ja?” The blond is fiddling with his rings, and—wow.
Apollo could probably replace the sun right now, he feels so powerful. “And here I wasn’t completely sure if you respected me as a rival. I’ll take that a huge compliment, Klavier, thanks.”
Trucy, meanwhile, is glancing between the two of them with a weird, incredulous look on her face. Eventually, in a stage whisper, she tells the blond, “Sorry, Polly here is really, really observant except when he’s not.”
“Hey, that’s rude!” Apollo elbows her and they get in a brief scuffle, which is probably not very professional at an actual crime scene where someone died, but some insults you can’t let go unavenged.
When they finish, Klavier hasn’t moved, though at least his eyes didn’t unfocus again. He looks vaguely bewildered. “Nein, that’s okay. I appreciate that one person, at least, values my privacy.” Another compliment. Obviously, that means Apollo’s doing this right.
...this song. this song. I just started looking at Tokio Hotel because I've got Übers Ende Der Welt on my Turnabout Histories playlist for Klavier, noticed the title and went...huh...and then google translated the lyrics and went huh, because this song is all of Klavier's anxiety and breakdown in the wake of the end of Apollo Justice, and the feels. The feels. Also it's perfect for this fic, so. Ja.
Main Points:
Ace Attorney
Chapter Summary: Klavier's acting a bit off.
Word Count: 1225
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Klavier has a crush on Apollo that he hasn't managed to convince him is legit yet. Partly because Apollo has observation powers and still manages to miss the obvious.
Warning: brief flashback to Kristoph being Kristoph.
any German is a mix of the dreaded google translate and really, really old personal memory (like, elementary school lessons), please hit me with any constructive criticism or corrections
Ema doesn’t look bored or annoyed with everything, which is Apollo’s first clue that there’s something majorly off. To be fair, the entire approach to the crime scene was a little weird, and now that he’s thinking back, everyone’s being very careful and the “it’s a great day” greetings were all white lies. Not enough to strangle his wrist, just…the slightest pressure on his skin. “Thank everything scientific you’re here,” she starts without preamble, and he raises an eyebrow. “I’m actually kind of scared I broke him,” she continues, waving a hand in the direction of the shed, and Apollo glances over. It’s the purple that catches his eye first, because it’s a pretty vibrant color and because he knows it.
“Uh. What do you mean, ‘broke him’?” he asks warily, because, well. He’s seen firsthand how much Ema doesn’t like Klavier, but it doesn’t seem to be mutual, because her insults just seem to amuse him.
“Talk to him. You’ll see what I mean. It’s got everyone on edge.” She immediately starts snacking, as if admitting that much was the worst thing in the world.
Trucy’s gotten really quiet as soon as it became clear Klavier was involved, but as they walk down the path toward the prosecutor she finally speaks up, really, really quietly, “I hope he’s all right.”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t wish his rival harm, or anything, even with how annoyingly over-the-top as he can be sometimes. And it’s pretty clear, watching his body language right now (a language Apollo’s become fluent in over the past year, whether or not he actually feels like it) that there’s, indeed, something wrong, because he’s too quiet, too still. As they get close, Apollo tries to see what Klavier could possibly be looking at, and can’t find anything. It looks like the prosecutor is just…staring at a wall.
“I guess you’re the prosecutor on this case?” he asks, and the blond legitimately jumps. It’s not cartoonish, no, but still.
He turns, natural-looking smile on his lips and in his eyes, and greets them normally. Well. In some definition of normally. “Herr Stirni, Fraulein. Ja, lucky you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Trucy wince, and if the tell is glaring enough Trucy can tell…
Well, no, that’s not quite charitable. She’s bright and picks up on things like that easily, but also, Prosecutor Gavin is usually so much more subtle than this. It’s not usually big lies, not usually something that strangles Apollo’s wrist, and his rival must have noticed something about how he reacts to lies but he’s done his best to cut out even the little things, like the overly cheerful act when he’s not feeling it. At least, not when they’re alone. Apparently, that mask is for other people, and Apollo feels privileged he gets to see Klavier more honest and open.
“Whatever’s going on with you, I’m going to help. If it’s bad enough it has Ema worried…” He trails off meaningfully, and the blond winces.
“Ach, that’s—I’m sorry,” he stutters lamely, and Apollo shakes his head.
“You should probably be telling her that yourself,” he points out, and if anything the prosecutor looks worse.
“Ja, wahrschein.” They just stand there, Klavier with his plasticky smile, the one he reserves for paparazzi and tabloids, and Apollo and Trucy waiting for something—anything—else. “…Would you like a personally guided tour of the crime scene?”
“I’m still waiting for you to not look like you want to throw up,” Apollo continues bluntly.
The smile cracks, just a little. Like porcelain. It also looks like it hurts, despite the whole fact that this is a metaphor. “Can we—can we not do this yet, bitte?” Immediately, Apollo places the tone, though it takes him longer than it should have to realize why that would be the case. It’s desperate. Scared. Like the blond is a kid with no control of the situation, and Apollo can’t fathom why he’d be concerned, Justice isn’t the type to—
A memory rises to the surface. Kristoph, giving him his most scathing feedback in public, scolding him if he ever became too passionate in his own defense, making a scene in public, when will you learn the decorum befitting of a lawyer—
Ah. And Apollo had learned from the man; there had to be some sort of mannerisms he’d picked up or something that are probably causing Klavier to feel worse, not better. Great. Well, at least actions speak louder than words, even if those words are Chords of Steel. “Absolutely. Whenever you’re ready. In the meantime, is there anything we can do to help?”
Trucy casts him a questioning glance, while Klavier blinks slowly like it’d taken him a moment to even translate the words, and he’d never expected that and doesn’t know what to do with it. He seems to come back to himself a little as a small, real smile escapes. “Ah…the offer was genuine, though I don’t know I’ll be of much use. Es tut mir Leid.”
“Eh, if it means you’ll go easy on me in court, I’ll take it,” he jokes, and from the way Klavier reacts—no jokes. Got it. “I’m kidding. Mostly. We make a great team in court, but you’re still good enough to make me nervous every time.”
“I—I’m sorry, I give you nerves?” The prosecutor actually trips slightly on the very, very smooth, very straight path as he follows them, and in any other situation Apollo would let himself snicker. This is never being spoken of again.
Apollo shrugs and does his best to sound casual. “Yeah. I mean, I’m sure the guilty party, whoever they might be, is going behind bars when I see your name, but still. It’d only be more intense if it was Prosecutor Edgeworth instead. I have no idea how Mr. Wright managed to face off against him all those times without having a heart attack.”
“Blatantly flirting with the opposing counsel, perhaps?” Klavier suggests, and, yes, good. He still sounds exhausted, and kind of far away, and polite, and subdued, but there’s a spark there that wasn’t before. And—hang on.
“Wait, is that your strategy? Do I make you nervous?” he asks incredulously, because the witness statements are connecting in the most ludicrous manner possible. Objection, that makes absolutely no sense.
“Ach—that’s probably enough secret-sharing for the moment, ja?” The blond is fiddling with his rings, and—wow.
Apollo could probably replace the sun right now, he feels so powerful. “And here I wasn’t completely sure if you respected me as a rival. I’ll take that a huge compliment, Klavier, thanks.”
Trucy, meanwhile, is glancing between the two of them with a weird, incredulous look on her face. Eventually, in a stage whisper, she tells the blond, “Sorry, Polly here is really, really observant except when he’s not.”
“Hey, that’s rude!” Apollo elbows her and they get in a brief scuffle, which is probably not very professional at an actual crime scene where someone died, but some insults you can’t let go unavenged.
When they finish, Klavier hasn’t moved, though at least his eyes didn’t unfocus again. He looks vaguely bewildered. “Nein, that’s okay. I appreciate that one person, at least, values my privacy.” Another compliment. Obviously, that means Apollo’s doing this right.
