Fitting In
Feb. 5th, 2023 01:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Ace Attorney AU (Turnabout Histories) Prequel
Summary: Mia doesn't know what exactly to make of Edgeworth.
Word Count: 1681
Rating: T
SPOILERS for Turnabout Histories and general plot spoilers for the series, lightly mentions some of the darker themes in canon
Mia, as befitting one of the main Fey family, has not met outsiders, really. Sometimes a few will come to their village, particularly tourists, but she’s never really interacted with any of them for long. She wasn’t supposed to do that, and Maya was always the one getting in trouble. Not that she didn’t attempt to protect her sister, but for the most part no one believed her, because Maya was the one who was curious and didn’t think things through.
She doesn’t know what she was expecting when her mother brought a small child home, but then, she’d only been informed by a fuming Aunt Morgan mere hours before, so she hadn’t really had time to think about it much.
But she’d…given Aunt Morgan’s rants, especially since her new sibling was male and she’d barely interacted with men, either…she’d expected someone boisterous. Someone who barely knew how to act or had any sense of propriety. (Larry, maybe, upon hearing a few stories later. Possibly Phoenix-as-he-used-to-be, as described by one too-serious and yet hurting brother.)
The boy mother brings home is wearing a small suit and bowtie and bows to her as he’s introduced. Bows.
Later on, as she gets to know Pearls (a little; barely, since Aunt Morgan is very, very protective of her child although she vaguely remembers other cousins that she hasn’t seen since and no one will acknowledge), she’ll realize that a clear similarity exists between Pearls and young Miles. Solemn, taking to tradition easily, at times too naïve and other times far too insightful for such a young age. Also, precocious. Though probably only Miles could actually spell that word.
Aunt Morgan had always said that those from the outside world did not know how to react. That they wouldn’t understand the importance of their traditions, that the tourists merely come to gawk and don’t believe and in fact have no faith in their hearts.
It takes forever for her to realize that Miles only started believing in channeling when he first saw a ritual channeling, one performed by her as part of her training. He had never complained about how uncomfortable the ritual robes were, but then, this was a child wearing suits and a bowtie, so perhaps his understanding of ‘uncomfortable clothing’ was a little skewed. He didn’t fidget like Maya. He knelt, unmoving, ramrod straight as if even then he understood how…unusual it was, to let a man sit in on a channeling like this, even if it was only practice. How much of an honor it was.
He was proud of his robes. Misty had asked him for a color (apparently it had been so long since a man was part of the main family no precedent for robe color existed). He had considered it deeply, with as much solemnity as he did anything else, and had decided on a color he called ‘magenta’, a color similar to the robes of the main family and yet distinct enough that they could not be mistaken, either. He had actually beamed when a magatama of similar color was found and presented to him.
Mia had, on accident, called it pink out loud. Miles hadn’t spoken to her for two days. While that wasn’t unusual, since they were both busy with their studies (Miles took his as seriously as if he was training to become the Master, which he definitely wasn’t and no one would have blamed him, other than potentially Aunt Morgan, if he was a little less intense about it), but it was unusual for him to do so voluntarily, since he liked to speak, even if it was just to ask questions and get someone else to talk, when he was allowed to do so. She never made that mistake out loud again, and soon got used to calling it magenta in her head, too, just in case it was one of his high tide days.
He had been there to support her, more than the fact that it was part of the ritual to have every member of the main family there, she’d realized. And also, after, when he was weirdly standoffish and quiet and starts when she touches his shoulder, that she realizes he’s wholly afraid, wholly freaked out. Eventually he rationalizes it, fits it into his worldview so thoroughly you’d never have guessed he was a skeptic before (as much as he makes the effort, when they’re lawyers), but here and now he’s trembling.
Which is something she hadn’t known, the fact that he was so stuck in scientific rationality that he hadn’t believed and was, in fact, just being polite and humoring their traditions all this time, because he’d been so very good at it. Now his façade was disintegrating, and it might be funny if it wasn’t so tragic.
She’d also be amused, if she didn’t just want to hug all of the stuffing out of him instead.
It had come as a surprise because, well. Despite all of Aunt Morgan’s words, he’d fit right in. He had always taken them seriously, always respected their traditions with such solemnity that the thought he didn’t actually believe in them never crossed their mind. The ease with which he’d fit in was uncanny, given that he’d never even visited Kurain before mother first brought him. He didn’t protest his treatment just because he was a man. (Mia still remembers that one drunk man at the inn, who started yelling things about how this wasn’t true to Japanese life at all. She also remembers being very grateful to the cowboy who had come to collect him and apologized that “that’s not how things should work out here in the Wild West, ma’am”. She’d expected to find all detectives were like that, because she had seen a few bits of TV here and there, only for Miles to chuckle, later, when she’d told him, and just explain that they’d both fit right in as many of those in the court system had eccentricities. They probably wouldn’t even notice if she channeled someone in the courtroom.)
He didn’t throw a fit that he didn’t get the latest toys, unlike Maya. Apparently they’d watch the Steel Samurai in private, when they could sneak away, but reflecting on it having some sort of outlet was probably important for someone like Miles or he’d blow up like an overpressurized tea kettle. He didn’t get bored but watched with keen eyes that remembered everything and easily picked up on little nuances of the traditions that had taken years of correction for even Mia to master.
It frustrates Aunt Morgan a lot. On one hand, Miles is an interloper, an outsider, a man, someone who should not be trusted or allowed access to the most precious secrets of the Clan. On the other hand, he is so polite and respectful that Aunt Morgan can’t help but like him—or, well, enjoy being treated as if being the head of a branch family is worth something. It takes her a little while to realize that Miles will act quickly to distract her, if she’s upset at Mia or Maya, and if all else fails he’s not even above a faux pas to redirect the woman’s wrath. Mia is actually somewhat in awe.
He also, she learns later, furious, was sent to train at Hazakura, standing under the frozen waterfall for longer than was required of anyone else. And that, in fact, it was hardly the first time, because his training was pretty much all like that. She isn’t sure whether Aunt Morgan was trying to kill him or enhance his powers, but it explains the times he’d gotten sick (the woman was lucky it hadn’t killed him, the bitch) and she’s angry. It’s a good thing he followed her out here, to become a lawyer, because when he’s no longer under Aunt Morgan’s thumb she can actually protect him.
Mia learns some of this over time, the moments that they can snatch between training (so he can read minds, that’s…new), but most of it requires studying for the bar and falling asleep together on the couch surrounded by papers. That he drools when he’s exhausted and he’s absolutely terrible at taking care of himself unless he somehow ends up under the mistaken impression for absolutely no discernible reason that someone he loves will not remember to take care of themselves if he doesn’t set an example. (Mr. Armando thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that she’s tricking him in this way, but didn’t blow her cover, even though she’s not quite sure what she thinks of either of them.) That her little brother does actually have a sense of humor, if a sneaky one that could be easily missed. That he’s self-sacrificing, but in a subtle way, and he’ll blush deeply if anyone brings attention to it. That he might actually have social anxiety, and that is part of the comfort he finds in the formalities of tradition and the court. That as much as he pretends he doesn’t care what others think of him, he cares far, far too much. That while he’s good at words in most other situations, when it comes to personal interactions one needs to look at deeds, not words, because he is absolutely abysmal at talking about things like feelings directly.
Her little brother is strange and prickly and sometimes hard to talk to. He’s so sharp and bright he could cut himself, or others, with that edge. His legal mind helps her more than anything Grossberg ever did for her, despite the fact that the man is more well-known and well-off as defense attorneys go. He loves justice as much or more than tradition. He might be terrible at showing it, but his loyalty to his friends and family is absurd.
When this first began, Mia had absolutely wondered what her mother had been thinking. Now, she’s grateful, because even with the fallout, even with her mother on the run because of getting tangled up in that case, she loves her ridiculous otouto.
Ace Attorney AU (Turnabout Histories) Prequel
Summary: Mia doesn't know what exactly to make of Edgeworth.
Word Count: 1681
Rating: T
SPOILERS for Turnabout Histories and general plot spoilers for the series, lightly mentions some of the darker themes in canon
Mia, as befitting one of the main Fey family, has not met outsiders, really. Sometimes a few will come to their village, particularly tourists, but she’s never really interacted with any of them for long. She wasn’t supposed to do that, and Maya was always the one getting in trouble. Not that she didn’t attempt to protect her sister, but for the most part no one believed her, because Maya was the one who was curious and didn’t think things through.
She doesn’t know what she was expecting when her mother brought a small child home, but then, she’d only been informed by a fuming Aunt Morgan mere hours before, so she hadn’t really had time to think about it much.
But she’d…given Aunt Morgan’s rants, especially since her new sibling was male and she’d barely interacted with men, either…she’d expected someone boisterous. Someone who barely knew how to act or had any sense of propriety. (Larry, maybe, upon hearing a few stories later. Possibly Phoenix-as-he-used-to-be, as described by one too-serious and yet hurting brother.)
The boy mother brings home is wearing a small suit and bowtie and bows to her as he’s introduced. Bows.
Later on, as she gets to know Pearls (a little; barely, since Aunt Morgan is very, very protective of her child although she vaguely remembers other cousins that she hasn’t seen since and no one will acknowledge), she’ll realize that a clear similarity exists between Pearls and young Miles. Solemn, taking to tradition easily, at times too naïve and other times far too insightful for such a young age. Also, precocious. Though probably only Miles could actually spell that word.
Aunt Morgan had always said that those from the outside world did not know how to react. That they wouldn’t understand the importance of their traditions, that the tourists merely come to gawk and don’t believe and in fact have no faith in their hearts.
It takes forever for her to realize that Miles only started believing in channeling when he first saw a ritual channeling, one performed by her as part of her training. He had never complained about how uncomfortable the ritual robes were, but then, this was a child wearing suits and a bowtie, so perhaps his understanding of ‘uncomfortable clothing’ was a little skewed. He didn’t fidget like Maya. He knelt, unmoving, ramrod straight as if even then he understood how…unusual it was, to let a man sit in on a channeling like this, even if it was only practice. How much of an honor it was.
He was proud of his robes. Misty had asked him for a color (apparently it had been so long since a man was part of the main family no precedent for robe color existed). He had considered it deeply, with as much solemnity as he did anything else, and had decided on a color he called ‘magenta’, a color similar to the robes of the main family and yet distinct enough that they could not be mistaken, either. He had actually beamed when a magatama of similar color was found and presented to him.
Mia had, on accident, called it pink out loud. Miles hadn’t spoken to her for two days. While that wasn’t unusual, since they were both busy with their studies (Miles took his as seriously as if he was training to become the Master, which he definitely wasn’t and no one would have blamed him, other than potentially Aunt Morgan, if he was a little less intense about it), but it was unusual for him to do so voluntarily, since he liked to speak, even if it was just to ask questions and get someone else to talk, when he was allowed to do so. She never made that mistake out loud again, and soon got used to calling it magenta in her head, too, just in case it was one of his high tide days.
He had been there to support her, more than the fact that it was part of the ritual to have every member of the main family there, she’d realized. And also, after, when he was weirdly standoffish and quiet and starts when she touches his shoulder, that she realizes he’s wholly afraid, wholly freaked out. Eventually he rationalizes it, fits it into his worldview so thoroughly you’d never have guessed he was a skeptic before (as much as he makes the effort, when they’re lawyers), but here and now he’s trembling.
Which is something she hadn’t known, the fact that he was so stuck in scientific rationality that he hadn’t believed and was, in fact, just being polite and humoring their traditions all this time, because he’d been so very good at it. Now his façade was disintegrating, and it might be funny if it wasn’t so tragic.
She’d also be amused, if she didn’t just want to hug all of the stuffing out of him instead.
It had come as a surprise because, well. Despite all of Aunt Morgan’s words, he’d fit right in. He had always taken them seriously, always respected their traditions with such solemnity that the thought he didn’t actually believe in them never crossed their mind. The ease with which he’d fit in was uncanny, given that he’d never even visited Kurain before mother first brought him. He didn’t protest his treatment just because he was a man. (Mia still remembers that one drunk man at the inn, who started yelling things about how this wasn’t true to Japanese life at all. She also remembers being very grateful to the cowboy who had come to collect him and apologized that “that’s not how things should work out here in the Wild West, ma’am”. She’d expected to find all detectives were like that, because she had seen a few bits of TV here and there, only for Miles to chuckle, later, when she’d told him, and just explain that they’d both fit right in as many of those in the court system had eccentricities. They probably wouldn’t even notice if she channeled someone in the courtroom.)
He didn’t throw a fit that he didn’t get the latest toys, unlike Maya. Apparently they’d watch the Steel Samurai in private, when they could sneak away, but reflecting on it having some sort of outlet was probably important for someone like Miles or he’d blow up like an overpressurized tea kettle. He didn’t get bored but watched with keen eyes that remembered everything and easily picked up on little nuances of the traditions that had taken years of correction for even Mia to master.
It frustrates Aunt Morgan a lot. On one hand, Miles is an interloper, an outsider, a man, someone who should not be trusted or allowed access to the most precious secrets of the Clan. On the other hand, he is so polite and respectful that Aunt Morgan can’t help but like him—or, well, enjoy being treated as if being the head of a branch family is worth something. It takes her a little while to realize that Miles will act quickly to distract her, if she’s upset at Mia or Maya, and if all else fails he’s not even above a faux pas to redirect the woman’s wrath. Mia is actually somewhat in awe.
He also, she learns later, furious, was sent to train at Hazakura, standing under the frozen waterfall for longer than was required of anyone else. And that, in fact, it was hardly the first time, because his training was pretty much all like that. She isn’t sure whether Aunt Morgan was trying to kill him or enhance his powers, but it explains the times he’d gotten sick (the woman was lucky it hadn’t killed him, the bitch) and she’s angry. It’s a good thing he followed her out here, to become a lawyer, because when he’s no longer under Aunt Morgan’s thumb she can actually protect him.
Mia learns some of this over time, the moments that they can snatch between training (so he can read minds, that’s…new), but most of it requires studying for the bar and falling asleep together on the couch surrounded by papers. That he drools when he’s exhausted and he’s absolutely terrible at taking care of himself unless he somehow ends up under the mistaken impression for absolutely no discernible reason that someone he loves will not remember to take care of themselves if he doesn’t set an example. (Mr. Armando thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that she’s tricking him in this way, but didn’t blow her cover, even though she’s not quite sure what she thinks of either of them.) That her little brother does actually have a sense of humor, if a sneaky one that could be easily missed. That he’s self-sacrificing, but in a subtle way, and he’ll blush deeply if anyone brings attention to it. That he might actually have social anxiety, and that is part of the comfort he finds in the formalities of tradition and the court. That as much as he pretends he doesn’t care what others think of him, he cares far, far too much. That while he’s good at words in most other situations, when it comes to personal interactions one needs to look at deeds, not words, because he is absolutely abysmal at talking about things like feelings directly.
Her little brother is strange and prickly and sometimes hard to talk to. He’s so sharp and bright he could cut himself, or others, with that edge. His legal mind helps her more than anything Grossberg ever did for her, despite the fact that the man is more well-known and well-off as defense attorneys go. He loves justice as much or more than tradition. He might be terrible at showing it, but his loyalty to his friends and family is absurd.
When this first began, Mia had absolutely wondered what her mother had been thinking. Now, she’s grateful, because even with the fallout, even with her mother on the run because of getting tangled up in that case, she loves her ridiculous otouto.
