IC INBOX | cerealia

[prosecutory]

Good day. This is Miles Edgeworth.

I cannot accommodate you at the moment, but please leave a message and I will respond as soon as possible. 

Comments

[Voice]

[fairbrook]

[When one's subordinate and alleged interdinterimensional friend is missing for an extended period of time, the correct response would be to show some inkling of concern. Integra however, exhibits no sign of worry. Instead, Edgeworth receives this:]

Might I ask a favor of you, Mr. Edgeworth?

[Incredible....]

[Voice]

[prosecutory]

[And Edgeworth himself isn't worried or worried that people might be worried about him. To him, this was yet another thing that happened and that would need explanation, and right now he was talking to Julius Vincere about it.

So, he says nothing except:]

What is it, Sir Hellsing?

[fairbrook]

[It's not that she isn't concerned, so much as she's unable to convey such feelings. Plus, well, their investigation takes priority.]

I'm certain you've come in possession of a certain invitation by now. Am I correct?

[Is she about to do something stupid and potentially detrimental to her health? Probably...]

[prosecutory]

I have, yes.

[Is she going to order him to go when he's already decided not to?]

[fairbrook]

[It's awkward. Integra does not have a confidant in this world, so Edgeworth will have to do. We're sorry.]

I shall be in attendance. Should I die or otherwise am deemed unsuitable to fulfill my duties as a result, I require you take charge of the police department in my stead. That is all.

[In short, make certain the rest of the city doesn't blow up.]

[prosecutory]

[Well, Edgeworth doesn't quite consider anyone here a friend yet, either. The mention of dying makes his lips tighten and his body tense, but that's a typical reaction. Okay, so maybe he IS a little worried with how Integra's willing to let herself be a guinea pig for whatever CERES had up their sleeve this time.]

...Very well, then. Do be careful. [The last statement is said formally, more like a matter of routine than a genuine gesture of concern.]

[fairbrook]

Thank you. [She pauses, taken aback.] I shall.

[Sadly, Integra and the threat of death are casual acquaintances. She doesn't seem to mind throwing herself on the sacrificial altar, and honestly, would prefer it to be herself than Edgeworth.

She ponders a moment before changing the subject.]

Might I ask... did you return to your own world?

[Now she asks?]

[prosecutory]

That is correct.

[He doesn't seem to mind that she only asks now.]

When I returned, I found out that only three days passed here.