tvk | 03: [Video, and I apologize for him]

[Hello, Prospero! This is a very disapproving and irritated Edgeworth with a display shelf full of various polearms behind him.]

In light of the results of a certain recent expedition, the general quality of the armaments I've observed among those who favor those that aren't firearms, and the length of the case thus far, I've been forced to conclude that either your collective observational skills could be reproduced by someone wearing headphones and a blindfold or your collective problem-solving skills are on par with those of cartoon villains.

As it seems that I must do your work for you, I spent today seeking out an arms dealer. As it only took me this long to discover this "Felix's Finds" which serves as the closest thing available, I would imagine that it would take someone unused to investigation roughly a week. Given that the kidnappings began in late June and no small number of us contend with murderous beings of an improbable nature on a regular basis, that the existence of this collector's shop isn't common knowledge begs explanation -- even should that explanation prove to further undermine my faith in humanity.

I unfortunately feel it necessary to clarify that he cannot afford to be open about his efforts to cater to our needs, and that his understanding of the situation is limited at best. As such, discretion is necessary in our dealings with him.

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[Some jerk may have missed that video, busying himself as he was in the barbaric ritual of "picking up the slack for everyone busy dealing with stupid clones, The Morrigan damn it all."]

[Some jerk Edgeworth might be talking to right now. Though, he seems put into a good humor by the prosecutor's words.]

That's half the battle right there. Some people don't even try, and stick with whatever world-views they're used to. Awfully boring way to live, not bothering to sample all that you can, abstract and physical things alike.

[That comment seems to cheer the prosecutor up slightly.]

It would not be the first time I've had to adjust my course to one closer to the truth, all told.

Oh? Sounds like you're used to such a thing, then. Well, used to the act of shifting belief or whatever you'd want to call it anyway.

Can anyone truly be used to such a thing?

[Lancer deliberates on his answer for a few moments.] I guess not. Having done something similar -- or, trying to do something similar myself recently, It's simply a familiar state of mind.

[Edgeworth nods.] I suppose that by now, introductions are in order. I'm Miles Edgeworth.

Cú Chulainn. Or Lancer. Either one's fine. [And thus Edgeworth go the Irish Myth know-how test 2.0.]

WHAT?! But... but that's the name of Diarmuid's Persona!

Yeah. Yeah... I'm aware of that. Trust me, whatever confusion you've got at that's nothing compared to my thoughts on the matter.

[Seriously, what did the Fianna, or whomever gave shape to that Persona, think he was, some kind of half-fey ponce with a cape of all things?]

I... suppose I can only imagine what it must be like.

Like history's got it all wrong. Even history that ain't all that far off from your own present.

...Really, if you ever accept the whole "displaced in time" bit Diarmuid and I are talking about, just know that dealing with all this time-shift related garbage is a pain, even after getting some help adapting.

That much does seem to be true for more than just Servants in this place. It was the first of several bizarre truths that I've been forced to accept here.

Ha! Ain't that the honest truth. Even I had to pause for a second to get used to this place, and I've spent a damn long time in lands just as far from the norm as Prospero.

Lands as strange as one where power is imposed on all visitors no matter the pedigree, which also has a twenty-fifth hour?

The Land of Shadows bordered the realm of the dead; that kind of proximity leads to a few disturbances. I'll let your imagination fill in the blanks.

...I see. Prior to my arrival here, I'd never been to anyplace more otherworldly than a temple, and that not by choice.

Ah, sorry. Should I try to speak of the "supernatural" as little as possible while conversing with you? Or at the least, not like it's something commonplace.

While I appreciate your consideration, that won't be necessary. It is... the truth, as much as a part of me might wish it were not so. I must face it as such.

[He chuckles to himself, self-chidingly.] I'll try to keep it to a minimum. It's the least I can do for you; you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, and there's not all that many dedicated thinkers in Prospero, I've noticed.

[What was left unsaid was the sheer number of braggarts and ~~other~~loudmouths who had the title Servant here, who were less apt to show that kind of courtesy.]

While your desire to be courteous is noted, your own words point to a counterargument. It is precisely because I do have a responsibility to lend my mind to the case -- a case punctuated with supernatural elements, I might remind you -- that you should not mince words, however difficult they might be to hear.

Fair enough, fair enough. Though, now I'm suddenly stuck with inspiration.

For full -- what's the right word... immersion, or maybe just to build your tolerance up, there could be some kind of a weekly gathering of all the other heroic spirits around that pit the hotel tries to pass off as a hearth. Pass around stories and drinks.

[His tone is only half-sincere, but there's a glint in his eye that seems to imply he enjoys that idea more than he lets on.]

Er... that is... aside from the fact that I've already made an enemy of Gilgamesh, I'm not certain that I could withstand such...

[He stares for a moment, then laughs.] Don't mind Goldie. It's the rare soul that can tolerate that guy. Saber must be some kind of saint, putting up with him as much as she does.

On that subject, I find it vexing that in a large yet relatively unified social group such as that of us kidnappees, apparently two women go only by "Saber". It makes it difficult to know who is being discussed or how to contact either.

It's a title more than a name -- though you probably guessed that already. Diarmuid and myself are both "Lancer", technically speaking.

[video]

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