Nicholas Reeve (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ghost_shield) wrote2008-11-02 08:13 pm
ghost_shield) wrote2008-11-02 08:13 pm
[PROMPTOBER -1]
A brief note: The following prompts are a test vehicle for a potential shifting of Nick from an AU to an OC. Do not expect any references to other Phoenix Wright characters or events.
When the sound cut through the night air, he'd been in the middle of a conversation -- a seance, if you wanted to add a mystical air to it, but Nick rarely did. The piercing scream resulted, on Nick's part at least, in a rather undignified position as he started sharply enough to send his chair tipping backwards, crashing to the ground back first along with the hapless spirit talker.
So much for the dignified spiritualist, he groaned internally, pushing himself up and rubbing the back of his head. Thankfully, as it turned out, decorum wasn't too much of concern, as the other two living beings in the room. a pair of siblings who'd wanted to talk to their dead mother regarding what she'd wanted done with a few of her old possessions, were in a similar state of shock and disarray. Even the dead mother herself looked startled, wavering a bit before shifting back into focus and a wide-eyed expression on her face.
"You heard it too?" he asked the others, bewildered. They simply nodded wordlessly.
Well, at least I'm not going crazy. But what the hell WAS that?
--
The event was not isolated in the slightest. The news the next day spent a good twenty minutes of news time just discussing the strange event. More notably, however, was that the scream seemed to be the only thing anybody in The First and Last Stop could talk about, or so Nick picked up as he weaved his way to the bar in the back.
Kaye, as usual, tended the bar in back. "Bit early for a drink, isn't it Nick?" she asked, drying a glass. "Of course, I've been saying that all afternoon to half the people in here."
He rubbed the back of his head, a little sheepishly. "Nah, don't need a drink, though some coffee might be nice," he replied. "Mostly just wanted to talk to you a bit."
"About the scream, right?" She rubbed her chin in a wry, knowing way. "Ahhh, always rely on the bartender to be the voice of wisdom."
"Har." He sat down. "But yeah, I thought I'd see what your take on it was. Do you have any idea what it was? I've never HEARD anything like it before." He struggled to put a term to it. "It was almost like..."
"Like something dying horribly, right?" she asked.
He shuddered. "Er, yeah, actually, though not like any spirit I've ever heard. Something bigger." He took the cup of coffee she laid out in front of him thankfully, cupping his hands around it. "Would rather not hear it again, either."
Kaye crossed her arms. "I imagine there were quite a few sleepless nights thanks to that sound. I do have my own theory about it, though," she replied, frowning.
"Somehow I'm not surprised."
"Oy, you whippersnapper, are you complimenting me or insulting me?" she asked, smirking down at him.
Whippersnapper? She's, what, five years older than I am? "Er, so what was your theory again?" he asked.
The experienced adventurer tapped her fingers. "Well, here's the thing. Information is still trickling in, but from what I can tell, a new wave of refugees showed up last night not long after the event. I'm sure it'll be on the news tonight."
Refugees... Refugees, in Gran Frontier, meant one thing: new arrivals from a universe that had been destroyed. They showed up all the time, and were the driving force behind the exponential growth of the city in the past 20 years. He'd been one himself -- one of the first, and one of the youngest. Not that he remembered much at all of life before he came to the city, so in the end it was only a minor part of his identity to him, but there was still a personal connection to the phenomenon.
"Anyway, if you want my take, it's this," she said, serving another customer as she did. "I don't think it's a coincidence in the slightest. And what I think..."
She finished serving the customer, then leaned over to Nick. "What I think... is that was the sound of a dimension dying."
He stared at her. "Are you sure about that? We've never heard anything like that when other refugees showed up," he replied skeptically.
"Tch. I thought you wanted my opinion?" she asked, scowling. "What else could make a sound that horrific? At any rate, maybe this one just happened to be close to our plane of existence. Like, practically touching. And that's why we heard it." She nodded sagely.
Nick mulled over this. It seemed so implausible, really, especially since there was no precedent for an event like that before. Still, Kaye wasn't typically one for pulling things out of her ass, and it wasn't any less probable than any other theory, he supposed. "Can universes even feel pain?" he asked, half to himself.
"I think everything hurts in its own way. Some of the dimensions I travelled to were obsessed with healing things we wouldn't normally think of -- cities, worlds, minds, souls. No reason why a dimension can't hurt as well." She paused. "And to splinter the way they do must be excruciating."
He shook his head, still not fully buying it. "Well, it's a theory, anyway," he said.
"Oh, everything's a theory," she snorted.
"Yeah, but some are more plausible than others."
"Drink your coffee, you brat."
She moved off, half-joking in her huffiness. He smiled at her and shook his head.
But in spite of his dismissal, her words stuck with him the rest of the day, and he was noticeably just that touch more gentle with the spirits he worked with for a few days after that.
Death hurt, after all.
When the sound cut through the night air, he'd been in the middle of a conversation -- a seance, if you wanted to add a mystical air to it, but Nick rarely did. The piercing scream resulted, on Nick's part at least, in a rather undignified position as he started sharply enough to send his chair tipping backwards, crashing to the ground back first along with the hapless spirit talker.
So much for the dignified spiritualist, he groaned internally, pushing himself up and rubbing the back of his head. Thankfully, as it turned out, decorum wasn't too much of concern, as the other two living beings in the room. a pair of siblings who'd wanted to talk to their dead mother regarding what she'd wanted done with a few of her old possessions, were in a similar state of shock and disarray. Even the dead mother herself looked startled, wavering a bit before shifting back into focus and a wide-eyed expression on her face.
"You heard it too?" he asked the others, bewildered. They simply nodded wordlessly.
Well, at least I'm not going crazy. But what the hell WAS that?
--
The event was not isolated in the slightest. The news the next day spent a good twenty minutes of news time just discussing the strange event. More notably, however, was that the scream seemed to be the only thing anybody in The First and Last Stop could talk about, or so Nick picked up as he weaved his way to the bar in the back.
Kaye, as usual, tended the bar in back. "Bit early for a drink, isn't it Nick?" she asked, drying a glass. "Of course, I've been saying that all afternoon to half the people in here."
He rubbed the back of his head, a little sheepishly. "Nah, don't need a drink, though some coffee might be nice," he replied. "Mostly just wanted to talk to you a bit."
"About the scream, right?" She rubbed her chin in a wry, knowing way. "Ahhh, always rely on the bartender to be the voice of wisdom."
"Har." He sat down. "But yeah, I thought I'd see what your take on it was. Do you have any idea what it was? I've never HEARD anything like it before." He struggled to put a term to it. "It was almost like..."
"Like something dying horribly, right?" she asked.
He shuddered. "Er, yeah, actually, though not like any spirit I've ever heard. Something bigger." He took the cup of coffee she laid out in front of him thankfully, cupping his hands around it. "Would rather not hear it again, either."
Kaye crossed her arms. "I imagine there were quite a few sleepless nights thanks to that sound. I do have my own theory about it, though," she replied, frowning.
"Somehow I'm not surprised."
"Oy, you whippersnapper, are you complimenting me or insulting me?" she asked, smirking down at him.
Whippersnapper? She's, what, five years older than I am? "Er, so what was your theory again?" he asked.
The experienced adventurer tapped her fingers. "Well, here's the thing. Information is still trickling in, but from what I can tell, a new wave of refugees showed up last night not long after the event. I'm sure it'll be on the news tonight."
Refugees... Refugees, in Gran Frontier, meant one thing: new arrivals from a universe that had been destroyed. They showed up all the time, and were the driving force behind the exponential growth of the city in the past 20 years. He'd been one himself -- one of the first, and one of the youngest. Not that he remembered much at all of life before he came to the city, so in the end it was only a minor part of his identity to him, but there was still a personal connection to the phenomenon.
"Anyway, if you want my take, it's this," she said, serving another customer as she did. "I don't think it's a coincidence in the slightest. And what I think..."
She finished serving the customer, then leaned over to Nick. "What I think... is that was the sound of a dimension dying."
He stared at her. "Are you sure about that? We've never heard anything like that when other refugees showed up," he replied skeptically.
"Tch. I thought you wanted my opinion?" she asked, scowling. "What else could make a sound that horrific? At any rate, maybe this one just happened to be close to our plane of existence. Like, practically touching. And that's why we heard it." She nodded sagely.
Nick mulled over this. It seemed so implausible, really, especially since there was no precedent for an event like that before. Still, Kaye wasn't typically one for pulling things out of her ass, and it wasn't any less probable than any other theory, he supposed. "Can universes even feel pain?" he asked, half to himself.
"I think everything hurts in its own way. Some of the dimensions I travelled to were obsessed with healing things we wouldn't normally think of -- cities, worlds, minds, souls. No reason why a dimension can't hurt as well." She paused. "And to splinter the way they do must be excruciating."
He shook his head, still not fully buying it. "Well, it's a theory, anyway," he said.
"Oh, everything's a theory," she snorted.
"Yeah, but some are more plausible than others."
"Drink your coffee, you brat."
She moved off, half-joking in her huffiness. He smiled at her and shook his head.
But in spite of his dismissal, her words stuck with him the rest of the day, and he was noticeably just that touch more gentle with the spirits he worked with for a few days after that.
Death hurt, after all.