「これが、モノを殺すと言うことだ…!」
Gender: Male
Location: Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic
Rank: Ace Attorney
Joined: Wed Feb 20, 2008 4:00 pm
Posts: 1520
Title: Of Spikes and Devil's Horns, or How Even A Phoenix May Cry
Author: Well, duh. =p
Rating: PG; mild violence
Genre: Romance, "adventure"?
Status: Completed (one shot)
Pairing: HEAVY Phoenix/Maya
Summary: Shortly after 4-4, Phoenix gets an urgent call. It's up to him to rescue Maya, for she's gotten herself in trouble again... Or did she?
Notes:-I came up with Nick's middle name. Sorry. =p It just felt fitting for the story.
-I slipped in another subtle, almost undetectable reference to another heavily acclaimed gaming series out there, based on Phoenix's movements and attitude.
-...Other stuff I can't remember right now?
***
NOTHING was going to stand in his way. Absolutely NOTHING.
He had not been himself since he received the call.
"MR. NICK! MR. NICK!!! THERE'S AN EMERGENCY, MYSTIC MAYA NEEDS YOU TO COME TO KURAIN AT ONCE!! OH GOD, NO, MYSTIC MAY--- *BZZZZZZT*"
Fear crept up his veins, and made even his spikes droop with sweat, afraid of what he'd just heard. No, this couldn't be happening.
WHATEVER it was, it could NOT be happening.
Not to him.
Not to HER.
He could feel his consciousness fainting. He could feel the strength leaving his limbs, and his hands dropped, as if dead, creating a jarringly off-key noise on the piano he was supposed to be playing. His head started spinning.
Please. No. Not Maya. Please, please, not her, please.
His eyesight was failing. His mind went into overdrive. His soul was shattered. "I almost lost her twice... Am I really going to lose her this time...?"
And just as his forehead hit the keys on the piano, sprouting a spectacular bump as well as an obnoxious screech from the mishit keys, he felt the heat crawling from the very bottom of his heart, covering his entire body, bringing his soul together as a whole, burning with not only determination, but a controlled anger that made him look extremely frightening. The feeling had given him his strength back, and drawing himself to his full height, sheer power burning in his eyes, he walked towards his boss, and spoke in a frighteningly calm voice, slow and leveled, and yet otherworldly authoritative.
"Sir, I have an emergency. I will not be able to complete my shift tonight. You can dock the pay from my salary, but I HAVE to leave. Now."
And leaving his nodding superior shivering in fear from seeing an attitude he had never before seen him display while at the Borscht Club, he turned around and headed towards the streets, in the first step of his moves towards getting HIS Maya out of whatever trouble had struck this time.
NOTHING was going to stand in his way.
***
The night was cold. It was close to midnight, after all. And yet, he didn't feel the savage blasts of the cool night breeze affecting him. His body was not his own anymore.
He sped up. An idea struck him, and he immediately pulled out his cell phone. By muscle memory, he dialed a set of well-known numbers, and when a groggy male voice had answered (with a back echo of "what absurdly foolish fool dares to call at this time of the night?!") he had explained his situation in a few words. On the other side of the line, the now wide-awake man tried to object, but he cut across him, and gave him very specific instructions. To his question of "am I clear?", the only answer he'd gotten was a reluctant "understood", but even if the voice betrayed uncertainty, he knew better. Assured, he said to the phone "I'm counting on you", before hanging up and dialing another number.
This time, a young female voice picked up. Once again, he cut across objections. "I do NOT have time for scientific explanations", he said, a tinge of exasperated anger shading his voice. Again, he repeated the instructions, and not even waiting for a reply, he said, "in any case, I just hung up with him, he's on this as well -- whatever happens, cooperate with him, it'll be the best bet for all of us" and hung up, stashing the little mobile back into his pocket.
By now, he had arrived home, and found his daughter and his protegé/son lazing around in the couch. The young girl immediately hastened to her feet, trying to hide from her father's eyes and spluttering an excuse as to why she was up so late; but there was no need of this, for his eyes could only see the way forward. He walked through his room, and found a pair of clean, comfortable socks and his best sneakers. He unzippered his hoodie and swapped it for a sleeveless shirt. He was sweating, and yet he did not feel uncomfortable. He trudged out of the room, and only then did his mind and body address the two other people in the living room, who were watching him with astounded eyes.
"Trucy, Apollo, I have to go out. There's been an emergency, and I have to leave, NOW. I might not come back until tomorrow, or maybe even the day after that. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Apollo, take care of your sister. I'm counting on you. If by tomorrow you don't get any signs of life from me, you are to call these numbers," he scribbled two phone numbers in a piece of paper, "and tell them what happened. They'll know what to do."
And once again, fire burning brightly in his eyes, he stood before the door. Breathing slowly, calming himself down, he spared himself one last thought. "I won't need this," he said, pulling off his beanie, and as he did, his spikes stood there, proud, strong, like devilish horns emitting an electrifying aura. Tonight, he was not a man. Tonight, he was NOT Phoenix Wright.
Tonight, he was a demon. And NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING, would stand in his way.
***
He ran. The train station had closed long ago; he did not have enough change for a cab, and to top it all off, there had been some sort of accident on the way, so in the end, it was rather easier to just sort it out on foot. The road to Kurain Village stood before him, long, daring, challenging. But it would not daunt him.
He ran. His mind raced even faster than his legs were, and that's saying something. He kept going over possibilities, each as unlikely as the next. But this nagging worry would not leave him. It was stupid. It was obscenely stupid. But he could not keep them out of his mind.
He ran. And inside his heart, a constant prayer resounded. "Please let her be okay." Shortly, he felt the full force of the drops that were now slowing his advance, as the sudden rain poured down in earnest. The road had become muddy, but it meant nothing to him.
He ran. And the faster he ran, the more the elements struggled to slow him down. He paid them no attention, no mind. They were only eyesores from the environment, mere flies before his determination, and he swatted them away with relative ease.
He ran. And ran. And ran.
He had been running for about an hour when he started making out the faint colors and shapes of the curious Kurain Village buildings. This incensed him, and renewed his strength. He ran, faster.
And he came to a sudden stop at the very entrance of the village: the massive metal doors had been closed, and given this, there was no way anyone could go in from the front.
But that night, he was not just anyone. He was not a man.
He was a demon, with the very flames of Hell burning in his eyes.
And NOTHING would stand in his way.
***
Circling the village had not been much trouble. It had been slightly tiring, yes, but not difficult. And near the very back, he found it -- the spot they'd used to escape the village when they wanted to have some time alone without all those bothersome elders making snarky and suggestive comments about them. The stone wall was cracked in places, and it created sort of a ladder on the surface, which they'd use to make their stealth getaways every now and then. He climbed up, fast, and dropped without a sound on the other side, hiding quickly behind the crates they regularly used to get to the top of the wall.
He gathered his surroundings. There was an absurd amount of people out tonight, more so considering the hour. And, he quickly noticed, most of these people were men.
Men armed with dangerous-looking sticks, bats, and all sorts of stuff to hit others with, all sorts of stuff that guaranteed a knock-out on any normal person.
He frowned. This was going to be dangerous. But thus far, danger had not fazed him. He was going to get to her, and get her out safely, no matter what the cost. However, it certainly wasn't going to be easy, he thought, as he approached, in feline silence, the man with his back towards his hiding position, and clubbed him as hard as he could in the ribs. He was sure he'd heard a crack or two when his punch connected, and turning him around, gave him another inhuman, vicious whack to his stomach, entirely robbing him of breath.
"Ungh!!"
The heavy-looking man grunted as he fell to the floor. Eyes shining in the dark, he pulled the bat out of the gigantic hands, thinking it'd be a good thing to carry along in the current situation. His breathing had not gone any faster. He was calm. He was in control.
He was a demon. The pointed horns on the back of his head attested to it.
He had been forced to take the long route from the back of the village to get to Fey Manor, so as not to draw too much attention to himself. In his wake, he'd leave all signs of passing through -- unconscious bodies, wooden barrels reduced to mere splints, and overall a careful, measured chaos. This kept on all the way up until the main entrance door of Fey Manor.
The huge, heavy doors of the manor stood before him, imposing and majestic. His irrational anger subsided a little as he swallowed, hard. Those few instants were all he needed to make up his mind, and battling on, he pushed the doors...
...only to find, to his great surprise and worry, that it had not been locked at all, and that the young Pearl was slumped on a corner, unconscious.
He rushed in complete silence towards her, and picked her up in his arms. She was breathing. He sighed, relieved, and looking around, saw the Winding Way and the Side Room entirely deserted. Deciding on the spot, he headed to this safe haven, and gently placed the teen medium on one of the futons. Looking around, he found a small bottle of salt essence atop a drawer, and picking it up, made the sleeping girl breathe in it. To his relief, the girl started showing signs of life immediately, and shortly after, opened her eyes, still dazed.
"Wh... Where... am...?"
"We're in the Side Room, Pearls. You're safe now." He addressed her seriously, still holding her head in his arm. It took her a while for her to completely recognize his face, but when she did, she let an audible gasp out, and covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes immediately wet, letting a small tear run down her cheek.
"Oh, Mr. Nick...! Mystic Maya is... Mystic Maya is...!!" She could barely speak. Phoenix pulled her towards himself and hugged her strongly, pressing her head to his chest. In doing this, he failed to notice the minuscule smile that grazed the girl's lips, as he whispered into her ear.
"It's going to be alright, Pearls. Whatever's going on, I'm going to save Maya. But I need you to be strong. Now tell me, where is she?"
"Sh-she's... i-in the t-training room... on the t-topmost floor..."
Hm. He had not predicted this -- the Manor had been altered a short while ago, and a special training room had been built on the third floor. While the fact that his objective was in the third floor was not a problem in itself, getting there was -- there was no way the stairs would have been left unattended, and he could not see how he'd be able to brave them without making a racket: he was still dripping wet from the rain, and had no way to cover his own footsteps -- that would be his downfall. And the very instant he felt this thought reach his mind, a small chuckle emerged from the very bottom of his heart. Fear? Please. Don't give me that bullshit. You cannot be afraid, Phoenix.
You're not afraid. You're a devil. And NOTHING stands in a devil's way.
***
Having left his young friend in the Side Room, locked with a Physical Psyche Lock from the inside, he decided on his course of action. He had picked up an old ceremonial katana (it held a decorative wooden sign over it, bearing the word "Yamato") in one of the many passageways of the manor -- while it was not sharp enough to cause any lasting damage, it would certainly be much more useful than a mere wooden baseball bat. He weighed it for a bit, tried a few swings, and decided it felt comfortable to wield it on a single hand. For now, his defense was complete. Somehow, the back of his mind thanked god for the partly Japanese heritage of the two girls now inhabiting this mansion, and this thought provoked a small smile to rise to his lips -- it was stupid, coming up with such a thought in this situation, but nonetheless he was thankful for the amusement. It had calmed his feelings a bit.
Slithering towards the stairs, he saw the way deserted. This was... unexpected, but not at all unwelcome. Walking up the steps, he held the sword tightly in his hand, the other hand stuck to the wooden handrail, concentrated in feeling any kind of vibrations on it that might indicate people upstairs of his position. There were no distractions, human or otherwise, the longer he'd climb, until finally, he stood face to face with the heavy doors of the new training room.
Sporting ornamental metal plates, the door had an intrincate japanese design etched upon its wooden surface. Now that he was so close to his goal, he could feel his pulse accelerating. What was he going to find?
...Meh. That was not the issue here. Pearls told me she'd be here, and she has no reason to lie. Whatever's inside, Maya's here. And whatever's inside waiting for me, I'm going to save Maya. That's all that matters now.
His back to the wall beside the door, he pushed it a bit with the sword on his hand. Feeling no resistance as the door smoothly moved inside, he jumped in front, and gave a small dash inside, enough to get him beyond the doors without leaving too many flanks open.
He was in. Phoenix Wright, in sports trousers, sneakers and a sleeveless shirt, soaking wet from rain and sweat, holding a sword in his hand, and with the fire of the ninth circle of Hell blazing in his eyes, was in.
And Maya was certainly there.
What he was not expecting, however, was what he found alongside Maya.
The entire room had been covered with candle ornaments, all burning and shining brightly in the dark. In the middle of the floor, the Royal Kurain Carpet had been spread over what looked like a futon, and on top of it sat Maya, wearing nothing but a small thong and an astonishing nightgown that left little, if anything, to the imagination, looking at him very seriously. Her eyes betrayed a smile, and somehow, he knew she was laughing to herself, laughing at his naiveté. Her face, however, did not move. She looked at him with an otherwise grave expression, and her voice, sultry, delicate, kind, sexy, and yet at the same time commanding, imperative and even somewhat forceful, rang throughout the flames that illuminated the room.
"Phoenix Vergil Wright." He flinched at the sound of his full name. In any case, how the hell had Maya found that one out? "You stand in front of the Master of the Kurain Technique of Spirit Channeling and Master of the Fey lineage. Such a position demands respect, yet at the same time does not desire to trod on others' wills. Therefore, I would like to very humbly ask of you that while you are here, please shed your footwear, and sit on your knees as you speak to me. As I do not desire to bend your will, this is a mere request, in order to respect the spiritual sanctity of this place, and you are free to ignore it if you deem it inappropriate or otherwise against your wishes."
Completely nonplussed at these words and attitude, he let the blade fall from his hand, ringing with a loud clang on the floor. Somehow, hearing Maya speak in such words dressed like she was made the whole thing feel even more freaky. He cast his sneakers aside, and kneeled in front of the beautiful woman with raven hair in front of him, who smiled.
"Thank you."
She stood up, and signaling for him to stay where he was, she headed to the door and locked it from the inside with a Physical Psyche Lock, then returned to her position. By now, his brain was already overflowing with questions, his gaze had lost its shine, and he was very obviously weirded out by what was going on. Seeing this, with a gesture, she invited him to talk.
"B-but... Maya... What... What's going on...? Pearls... She called me... And---" he suddenly stopped, seeing a hand having risen in front of him, demanding silence. She spoke next, slowly.
"Young acolyte Pearl carries absolutely no blame in her actions, for all she did was merely executing the orders I had issued her. Phoenix Vergil Wright," he flinched again, "you are here, before the Master of Kurain, as the results of a challenge she had prepared for you, in preparation for the hardest test of your entire life. The very fact that you have made it this far proves that you are more than capable of carrying out this mission. And thus, I hereby take it upon my authority to issue this mission to you. However, the decision to take it will be ultimately up to you, as only you have final control over your fate, and this will be a mission to last a lifetime."
He gulped. He wasn't sure if he was up to this. But at that moment, Maya had stood up, and kneeling on the floor right in front of him, she took one of his hands with both of hers, kissed it, and held it to her chest, covering it with both of hers.
"Phoenix Vergil Wright... Will you marry me?"
Disbelief rose through his body. What in the...? Is she really asking me what I think she's asking me...?
"I am well aware you are probably asking yourself many questions right now, and I'm afraid I do not hold the answers to all of those at this moment. But if you decide to accept my proposal, I swear on the grave of my ancestors I will work towards answering them to the best of my ability, and towards making you as happy throughout the years we shall be spending together as you have made me throughout the years we have known each other. I love you, Phoenix. I have loved no other man, and this is the only way I know of expressing this fact to you fitting enough for all that you have done for me." She finished with a proud, loving smile.
...This was it. His eyes, wide as wide can be, swelled up, and tears began forming in them. Someone had told him once, "a lawyer can't cry 'till it's all over". But he was not a lawyer anymore. He was Phoenix the piano player, Phoenix the poker player, Phoenix the father.
And suddenly hugging Maya with all his strength, in a rushed move that had them both fall on the floor, the tears overflowed into the kiss they now shared, indicating his full acceptance of the courageous mission the Master had entrusted him.
And as their kisses progressed into caresses, slowly taking off each other's clothes, Phoenix thought in a last, amusing remark, he certainly had been a devil tonight. And now that devil was here, with the woman he loved, and with whom he'd be spending the rest of his life.
He felt happy.
He felt elated.
And he felt that certainly, most certainly, absolutely NOTHING could stand in his way.
~FIN~
Last edited by Shiki Tohno on Sat Nov 08, 2008 12:05 am, edited 1 time in total.