My very first PW fanfic... I've tried to make it original: Mostly OCs, rarely any canon characters, and fresh cases. I hope that I'll succeed. For now, enjoy! If you want to discuss it or comment on it, please go to the discussion post in my signature; I like for comments and such to be separate form the fanfic. Thank you! :)

-Table of Contents-

- Introduction - You are here!
- The First File - Fresh Turnabout
~~Prologue
~~Trial, Part 1

---

Last edited by pariah164 on Thu Jul 17, 2008 10:26 pm, edited 4 times in total.

Turnabout Duality: The First File - Fresh Turnabout

PROLOGUE

The cold night sky was thick with rain clouds, hovering over the city and bringing an overall feeling of gloom. A girl stood in the downpour, each raindrop feeling like a tiny ice pick to the skin.

Served her right for not having an umbrella.

Then again, she didn't exactly have the time for it. Not yet. Right now, she was standing in front of an apartment complex, somewhat nondescript and ordinary, nothing unusual about it. Gray, brick, old... It could have been anywhere in America, really. But it was here. And what was happening was important indeed.

A red umbrella approached her, just barely visible in the dark and the rain. She knew full well who was under it, but naturally, he looked more than surprised to see her. Words were exchanged, but in the heavy rain, nothing could be easily heard. However, if one listened, if one really listened, they may hear the female talking about her broken heart, the man insisting he didn't mean it. The woman asks if he knows the pain she's been in, and he claims not to know what she means. The man slowly grew more and more agitated, yet the girl was strangely calm and unfazed by him or how her now soaking wet hair now stuck to her face and neck, obscuring her eyes from view. It was when he reached forward, possibly to grab her, that she moved. It was so swift that her flat shoes almost slipped on the wet sidewalk. The man's eyes went wide, and she smiled, feeling the blood slowly pour over her hands. "You... are a fool," she whispered, letting the man hear those last words before jerking the knife upwards, the force of it making a sickening sound as blood came out of his mouth, the man coughing one last time. As the girl let go, the man fell limply to the ground, umbrella falling out of his hand. If they were still listening, a person could hear the girl's words before she escaped into the cover of darkness and rainfall.

"Finally... they will both suffer..."

***
July 21, 9:00 AM
District Court
Defendant Lobby No. 2

My name is Talia Schotts. I'm a defense attorney. More specifically, I'm a rookie defense attorney. And I've never been more scared.

There's nothing remarkably special about me, really. I'm smart, I suppose; I wouldn't have been able to get here without at least that. I'm also passionate about my chosen profession, but... I have a small problem.

I have severe stage fright.

I guess, perhaps, court fright would be the more proper term. The minute I step into a court room, any spine I had before fizzles away into nothing. This is worrisome, not just for me, but for my mentor as well.

Speaking of whom, she wasn't in the best of moods, and also clearly wasn't happy with me.

Her name is Natasha Fusse. Fusse and Associates is the name of her law firm, where she graciously accepted me after I passed the bar a few months ago. "Stop tugging at your skirt," she said harshly, noticing me pulling at the dark blue pleats.

"Tell me again why I couldn't wear my knee-length one?" I asked, not at all liking the shortness of the skirt that was picked out for me. Not to mention it was cold that morning; granted, I was wearing over-the-knee socks with it, but still...

"Schotts, you have to look confident in the courtroom," she insisted with that stare of hers, "The judge will be more inclined to believe you that way."

"You make that sound like my client's actually guilty," I muttered, feeling the sting of a smack to my shoulder as Natasha hit me. See, my first case...is a murder trial. I was hoping for something a bit more simple (and less confounding), but Natasha insisted it was a good test of my skills as a lawyer to take on a case like this.

Two night's ago, in front of Laramie Apartments, 20 year old Richard Garrity was found dead. The murder occurred on the rainiest night the city's seen in a decade, and almost nobody was out and about when it happened. There was one witness, and only one.

And then there's my client.

Two policemen led her into the lobby, the girl looking like she hadn't slept all night; I couldn't blame her. Demira Violet, age 19, was the victim's girlfriend and a student at the university near the apartments. "Good morning," she greeted, the normally cheerful phrase highly dampened by her mood. Standing up and smoothing out my skirt (what I had of one), I approached Demira and smiled a bit.

"Don't worry," I said firmly, hoping my voice didn't betray my nervousness, "I will absolutely prove your innocence. I promised, right?" Demira nodded, trying to smile, but failing miserably. I sighed inwardly, not able to imagine what the girl was going through.

At this point, my mentor spoke up. "You need to smile," said the blonde woman sternly, crossing her arms as she approached, "If you don't have faith in yourself, your lawyer will lose confidence, too. You didn't do it, right?"

Demira looked up, her eyes wide. "Of course not!" she cried, "I would never kill Rick! I loved him!" Her eyes welled with tears as she said his name, and she bit her lip to keep from crying. Natasha nodded, tilting her head a bit.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," she said, looking to me, "As long as Schotts does her job, everything will turn out fine. And she will do her job." The 'or else' was implied, but I nodded anyway.

"R-Right!" I replied, "I won't fail, ma'am."

Before any more small talk could commence, the guards came to announce that court was soon coming to order, and to take our places in the courtroom. And that's when it hit me - the fuzzy vision, the faint nausea, the cold sweat... This was it. My first trial...

"Come on," I said softly to Demira, and myself, as the three of us entered the courtroom, where my first turnabout would begin.

---

Last edited by pariah164 on Sat Jul 19, 2008 12:27 am, edited 1 time in total.

Awesomeness in a short skirt.

TRIAL, PART 1

July 21, 9:05 AM
District Court
Courtroom No. 2

As we situated ourselves behind the defense bench, the judge, in his black robes, white mustache, and white beard, sat himself down. "Court is now in session," he announced, "Is the prosecution ready?" I had been so caught up in my end of things that I had totally forgotten about the other side. Looking over, I saw the prosecutor... and found myself a little stunned. He was lanky and bald, appearing to be even older than the judge. He seemed to be shaking a little, his glasses thick enough to be Coke bottle bottoms. I think he even had a cane.

"Eh?" he asked, putting a hand to his ear, "What was that, Your Honor?"

The judge sighed silently. "Is the prosecution ready, Mr. Payne?" he asked again, raising his voice a bit.

"Yes, Your Honor," he said, looking towards me. And that's when it happened. "OBJECTION!" he cried, the sound so high and shrill it made me wince, "The defense is too young!" He did have a cane, as it turned out, since he was pointing it right at me.

Too young? What? I repeated the words to myself, looking befuddled. I think Natasha muttered something under her breath, but I couldn't hear it.

"Enough, Prosecutor," said the Judge before turning to me, "Age has no bearing on what makes a good attorney. That said, is the defense ready?"

I nodded, trying to remain calm. "Th-the defense is ready, Your Honor," I replied. I think Natasha smiled a little as I said those words; could have been a trick of the light, I suppose.

"I'm understanding this is your first trial, Miss Schotts. Are you sure you're prepared?"

I gave another firm nod in reply. "I am, Your Honor." I was sounding more confident than I felt. A good sign.

"In that case," continued the judge, "Will the prosecution give their opening statement?"

Payne nodded, putting his fingertips to his bald head as the other hand stayed on the cane. "The prosecution will prove that the defendant, Demira Violet, savagely and brutally murdered Richard Garrity in a fit of rage. This will be supported through both the evidence, as well as our decisive witness."

D-decisive witness? I really don't like the sound of that...

The judge nodded. "All right then, bring in the first to testify." With that, a rather tall man approached the witness stand. He was in a green coat, a wrinkled white shirt, and a dark red tie. His hair looked a mess, and he had stubble on his cheeks. "W-where's Detective Packer?" asked the Judge, looking as confused as I was.

"Well, ya see, pal," said the man at the witness stand, scratching the back of his head, "Stan's out sick. We go back a ways, and I owe him, so I'm here to investigate in his place. Oh, here's the official paperwork..." He dug some wrinkled papers out of his coat and handed them to the bailiff, who then handed them to the judge. After a brief look-over, the bearded man nodded.

"Everything's in order. Please proceed." With that, Payne turned to the man at the stand.

"Witness, please sate your name and occupation."

"Dick Gumshoe, detective."

"Please testify as to how the crime scene was when you arrived."

Natasha stepped up to my side then, just barely audible in my ear. "This is it, Schotts," she said firmly, "Pay attention. I get the feeling this guy is one can short of a six pack, so he may miss some things. Stay calm, and stay focused. I have faith in you." All I could do was swallow the lump in my throat and nod.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, narrowing my eyes and preparing to listen.

"The murder occurred at 9:02 PM," began the detective, scratching the back of his head again, "The cause of death was by stabbing, using this knife. " He held up a knife in a plastic bag; almost the entire blade was stained in blood. I fought back a grimace as Demira hunched over, her hand over her mouth. Natasha was at her side in a flash, glaring at me, silently telling me to keep paying attention to the testimony. I nodded faintly, swallowing hard. "We found the victim in the arms of the defendant," continued Gumshoe, "The call came from the witness, a young woman named Dessi Venn. She was also the defendant's roommate, pal. She saw everything."

The judge nodded. "It sounds pretty straight forward," he said, then looked to me. "The defense may begin the cross examination."

I never thought I'd ever hear those words uttered to me outside a mock trial. However, I nodded, and turned to the detective. "Can you prove that my defendant was the stabber?" I asked, tilting my head and poking at my cheek (it's a habit of mine), "There were no fingerprints on the weapon, correct?" At least, I think I remembered that from the Court Record.

Gunshoe scratched his head. "Well, that's right, pal, but... There was something else, too."

I raised a brow. "Something else?" Demira looked terrified, her nails digging into her skirt.

"Yep. Before he died, the victim managed to pull one of her gloves off. And it was almost totally covered in his blood. We found the other in the suspect's part of the apartment, under her mattress."

Well, this wasn't good. "W-why didn't you submit that as evidence?" I demanded, slamming one of my hands on the desk.

"Because the prosecutor told me it wasn't needed, pal," Gumshoe replied with a nod.

I couldn't believe this. "Payne!" I cried, pointing at him. I'm not sure why; it just felt right. "Your Honor, I demand that the glove be submitted as evidence!"

"OBJECTION!" There was that screaming again. "T-the glove is irrelevant, as we have a witness that saw the whole ordeal."

"You're wrong!" I cried, slamming my hand on the table again, "That glove is the key to this whole case!" The audience murmured a bit as I tried not to sweat. I was bluffing through my teeth... but would it work?

After a few moments, and a few gavel slams, the judge finally nodded. "All right," he said, "The glove will be submitted as evidence. However, Miss Schotts, I expect you to prove it by the time this trial is over."

"Yes, Your Honor," I replied, feeling Natasha at my side again.

"Good, Schotts," she said with a grin, "That's how you do it." I sure hoped so; otherwise, this case was going to be a bust.

"If that's all from the first witness, Mr. Payne," said the judge, "Please call the next witness into the room."

Payne tapped his bald head. "You see, Your Honor," he replied, "She's not here yet. Due to some short staffing over at the police station because of the weather, she's just now on her way here... If you give a ten minute recess..."

The judge looked reluctant to do so, but he nodded. "Very well. We'll have a ten minute recess." With that, he brought the gavel down.

***

July 21, 9:45 AM
District Court
Defendant Lobby No. 2

I sat down, not realizing how bad my legs had been shaking. Natasha seemed pleased. "You're doing fine, Schotts," she said, "Better than even I hoped."

Demira even smiled a little. "The way you acted in there was inspiring, Miss Schotts," she said with a nod, "I feel a lot better." Well, at least someone did.

I managed a smile. "I told you: I am going to prove your innocence, Miss Violet." A thought came into my head then; Demira Violet, Dessi Venn... Hm... "Could I ask you something?" I asked, "Are the Laramie Apartments owned by the school?" Some schools in the area couldn't have dorms on campus, so they usually bought out apartment buildings instead, using those for student housing.

Demira blinked, looking surprised, then nodded, pushing up her glasses. "That's right," she said, "How did you know?"

I poked my cheek again, "Well, your names are so similar," I commented, "I figured it was either an odd coincidence, or a result of the school housing students alphabetically. How long have you been roommates?"

"Almost 2 years."

"And you started dating Richard when?"

Demira's face grew sullen. "Three years ago."

The gears in my head started to turn. Could it be...?

My thoughts were interrupted as the guard announced that the witness had arrived. Recess was over, in more ways than one.

---

Last edited by pariah164 on Fri Sep 12, 2008 7:49 am, edited 1 time in total.

I'm sorry, but I'm REALLY tired since it's like... 4:00 where I am now. But after you posted on my OC fanfiction thread I absolutely HAD to see this. Except I... haven't read it yet. I MUST sleep now or face faintage. But tomorrow, I'll tr to get your fic read. and when I do... I'll edit this post into a comment about it! ^_^

Good Night *zzzzzzzzz*

EDIT: okey-dokey, I've read it. I may say, it's looking good so far! The only problem so far is that I don't know what any of these people look like. I know your protagonist wears a short skirt, but that's all I remember. Also Natasha, the metor, has blond hair right? Is that it? Your characters are interesting, give them more character by explaning what they look like!

And let me see if I've got any of this right...
Talia Schotts.. Talia sounds like 'calling' kindof and Schotts sounds like 'shots' of course. Hmm... calling the shots?
Natasha Fusse.. ah, I dunno. Fusse... she has a short fuse? Ah well.
Richard Garrity.. This one's really hard. Either your allusions are REALLY good or you're trying not to use them.
Demira Violet.. I dunno this one either, but maybe just so her name can match up to the witness's.
Dessi Venn... Ok, this one was obvious. Deseivin'. She's the murderer, no doubt. I'm looking forward to seeing how this plays out!

Please continue!

---

Last edited by ironlunch on Mon Jul 21, 2008 2:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Wow! This i really interesting, I can't wait to see what happens next in it!
Good work!

---

If you go to the discussion post, which is linked in my signature, there is art of everyone there. I drew them myself. I just didn't describe it in the story because I was trying to keep the dialogue the same style as the game, as close as possible, while still keeping Talia's 'voice', so to speak. As for the names:

---