InsaneJournal

Oceanfront View (PG-13)
Title: Oceanfront View
Fandom: Ace Attorney/Mother 3 crossover
Completion date: September 17th, 2009
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 481
Warnings: Implied spoilers for PW:AA Rise From The Ashes, and for Mother 3, Chapter 7
Prompt:The [Ace Attorney] character of your choice visits Tanetane Island.




     It seemed like a delightful little vacation spot. Lush forests, sandy beaches, ocean waves lapping on the shore. Research paid off, when it found him a vacation spot well off the beaten path, for a mere pittance. Damon stepped off the cruise ship, took a breath of the crisp air, and liked the thought of retiring here. He should get to know this island better.

     Perhaps it was that odd tour guide, who had eyes like an octopus, cold and impassive. Or Damon might have made a slight error in his local mushroom identification -- the field book's pages were smeared and he always gave his own intuition more credit than it deserved, especially these last few years. Dizziness sank into Damon. He sat down hard against a tree trunk. He really was getting old, and weak. He tried to hold on to the mushroom but the gloves' leather was damp and his body wouldn't seem to obey. Oh, what a fool he was.

     He woke to forest leaves, with black light shining through them and the strangest smell of patchouli on the breeze. He stood; his legs felt fine, and his hands obediently smoothed his Hawaiian shirt to order. Damon walked, and wondered why the local tourism board would put such enormous walls of storage lockers out here, stretching away into the forest forever. It didn't make sense. It didn't make sense, and he felt wonderful. He hadn't been able to find his half-eaten mushroom. Tsk tsk, old boy, that was important evidence.

     Damon saw a muffler then, flashing red through the shrubs. He stopped, and filled cold with dread inside, and then he was hurrying suddenly through the crunching brush and moaning locker walls. Yes, there she was, the other half of the Duo standing in a clearing and staring at the sky.
     "Gant." She faced him, and came serenely closer. She smiled.
     He laughed, slow and heaving, shaking his head. "Imagine meeting you here, Lana! We never talk anymore."
     "Pardon?"
     "I said--"
     Her smile sharpened. "It doesn't matter what you say. You're dead to us, Police Chief Gant. Scream as loud as you want, and no one will hear you."

     She struck him then, and knocked the breath out of Damon in a way he had never imagined possible. Oh, she was trained for that, of course. She was one of the police department's strongest in the planned training scenarios. But he had never imagined that Lana really could.
     More shapes came. A white ghost with dark eyes. Tipping stetson hats, like an audience nodding. Damon fell under them. It hurt but he felt so wonderful, and he didn't even really mind; these old friends told him the truth.

     Authorities found a shirt, washed up on a rocky shore. It was torn as if by claws, and worn tissue-thin by the sea but it may have once been orange. Analysis couldn't begin to guess who it had belonged to.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I've been mourning the PW kinkmeme as lame for a while now. Then I saw this prompt. Mother-3-grade mindfuck applied to the crazy lawyerverse? Man, I was on that like Duster on a grilled cheese sandwich.