[Maya crosses her arms behind her back, shrugging.]
I can't think of a lot of times we weren't sure anyone was gonna get out. I mean, people die whenever something weird happens here, but then usually they come back.
[He's not used to people coming back, even after a year here. It'd be...self-defeating to get used to it, he thinks. When they go home - not if, but when - people won't be able to come back. And it'd be a waste of time to think that life wasn't fleeting and finite. It was for their prey, after all. There but for the grace of God. Et cetera.]
Ready to prepare for the next apocalypse, then? [he says with a small smile.]
[Edgeworth pauses. He thinks. He knows what he says next is going to be vitally important.
At first, he's angry. Why would she side with the force that brought them here against their will, turned them cannibal, caused them so much pain?
No, there has to be a logical reason for this. Is it a ruse? Is it for information? Maya's crafty, she's clever - maybe it's that. May as well ask and get it straight from the seahorse's mouth.]
Why? Is it to get more information about the Fog so we can go home?
[Because he hasn't given up hope. He'll never give up hope. Not as long as he breathes.]
[Maya's lips tighten and she bites them just a little inside her mouth, fists drawing up at her sides while she steels herself. The skepticism is normal. Expected, even.
It'll be okay.]
There's... There's not gonna be a way to go home if something bad happens to Ryslig.
[She tries to keep her stare level and steady. There's no need to be ashamed, right?
She's doing this for them. For herself. For everyone.]
And if there's no way, then— I wanna make it better for us.
Maya. [He sighs, and rubs his temples, trying to think. It's not an admonition, or even exasperated, but rather...well, resigned. Like he knows this is going to be an argument that neither of them want to have.
He closes his auxiliary eyes, looking at her with the ones he'd had as just a human. No - he still was a human. Just a different sort of one.
He wouldn't like to be condescended to, so he does the same service for her and tells her what he thinks, though not as bluntly as he may once have done.]
I know you have a life here, but...I haven't given up yet. And personally I wouldn't be aligning myself with the force that brought us here in the first place to try and make things better. All the Fog has ever done for us is make things worse.
[He's hesitant to say she's "gone native", because that'll just cause a blow-up...but she has, hasn't she? Stockholm syndrome is something he's seen before. Hell, before the truth about DL-6 came out, he'd been a victim of it. But at least his had never involved a god, or something styling itself as one. Clarke's third law, and all that. Even after everything he's seen, even prior to Ryslig, he's still a skeptic.]
[Maya listens the best she can, waiting for Edgeworth to finish before she offers her rebuttal.]
I'm not asking you to give up. And I'm not asking you to trust the Fog Goddess, either— but I don't... know if we're entirely right about her.
And the only way we're going to figure that out is getting close enough to find the truth.
[Maya raises her hand to her neck, clutching her fingers nervously around the shell she's replaced her magatama with, rubbing it with the pad of her thumb.]
[Maya grips that shell harder when Edgeworth speaks, beginning to tremble.]
How can you say that?
[She asks, quiet at first. But then she shakes her head, lowers her hand from her magatama to her chest, as if to gesture at herself.]
I am a killer now, Miles! Just like you, just like Phoenix, just like every other monster here! I've killed— it must be nearly a hundred people now, with or without justification!
[The more Maya talks, the more her voice raises, eyes narrowing.
She isn't mean. She's never been mean. But she hurts right now, and Maya's voice comes out unusually sharp, her eyes glimmering with all the emotion she's been holding back.]
And nothing, nothing is going to change that!
Not joining the fog god, and not going home, either! Going home isn't going to change what I've done!
[Her voice pitches louder, nearly becoming hoarse. Her eyes sting and she blinks hard, sniffling— but when she rubs her face, she knocks pearls from her cheeks instead of tears.]
[He feels a twinge of guilt when she begins crying. But he's never been one to soften his words just because someone is upset. That's Wright's area; right now, he's a prosecutor - and just like she said, he's pursuing the truth.]
Yes, we're all killers. No, nothing's going to change that. Is joining the Fog your way to assuage your guilt? To tell yourself that all that killing means something? That it's always been in your best interests the whole time, because it's her plan for us?
[The badge of his halo shines brighter. This is unfair of him, perhaps, but it's what he's thought about the Fog since he's arrived, and it's a betrayal coming from her specifically...but he doubts she'd listen as to why, right now.]
Defending herself has never come easy. She doesn't even want to do it now. She can only defend others with any conviction— and to do it now Maya tries to convince herself she's defending more than just herself. She's defending Makoto, Dandy, Fidds and Marco— anyone who has been here for a very long time.]
Every. Time. I killed someone— every time! It meant someone else didn't die!
And sometimes that person who didn't die was me!
[More pearls clatter to the ground. All they're doing is frustrating her, getting in the way, reminding her of what she can't return to.
But she knows she has to ask for this power, preserve herself. If she dies to Ryslig too many times, then she'll never remember Pearl.]
You couldn't stop the poachers from taking my throat! Not you, not Dandy— not even me!
But all you can do is think about what the Fog God wants.
[Maybe it's the monstrousness— the selfishness and vanity of mermaids finally pushing Maya's negative image into the positive. Maybe it's the stress. Maybe it's because Maya has been holding these thoughts and feelings back for years.
But it gets her to ask something she'd have never had the strength to— never had the worth to— until now.
Maya chokes back a sob and manages—]
When does anything get to be about the things I want?!
Is this what you want, Maya? [he says, his voice a shade short of cold.] Bowing before the entity that made us all killers?
Is that really what you want?
Or have you succumbed to the will of this place and its alleged god so totally that its will and yours have become the same?
[Witnesses cry on the stand. Witnesses scream. Witnesses yell and pout and justify their actions to themselves and others. Edgeworth has never been moved before. He won't be moved now.]
[At first Maya seems a bit afraid again, but the longer she listens, the harder her glare becomes. She stares for a beat— it must only be a second, though it feels longer— before her face falls into something not entirely calmer, but sadder, more resigned.]
Of course, Prosecutor.
I've given up just like everybody else.
[It doesn't sound convincing. It doesn't sound like she's defending herself anymore, like there's any punch to her words. Maya's voice is tired, and it's no accident that it's tough to read what's going on in her head by what's on her face.]
It just broke me, you know? Sorry.
I'm not the person you knew before you came here. I'm not that strong. So—
[She raises her hands, not as much in a defensive position, but gesturing as if giving Edgeworth the entire argument, and shakes her head.]
You're right.
[And then she at least tries to turn to walk away, but there's no guarantee she won't stop at his next reply.]
Then he turns and walks the other way, jaw set. Even if she's given up, he hasn't. And this has further confirmed what he's already thought about the gods of this place.
He has a lot of things to think about. She'd come to her senses, in time.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[No, he's still not addressing it. Replace his eagle wings with chicken wings. Bawk, bawk.]
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How's that going, by the way?
[Maya asks, eager to delay the matter at hand by any means, as usual.]
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[Nice way to say "cancelling the apocalypse", Miles.]
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Good point.
That one was a little unusual, even for me.
[she sighs.]
It's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about?
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[He's got no idea what this could be about.]
The rapid transformation into sea creatures for the newcomers? I can imagine that might be traumatic for you to relive.
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I mean, the end-of-the-world part.
[Maya crosses her arms behind her back, shrugging.]
I can't think of a lot of times we weren't sure anyone was gonna get out. I mean, people die whenever something weird happens here, but then usually they come back.
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[He's not used to people coming back, even after a year here. It'd be...self-defeating to get used to it, he thinks. When they go home - not if, but when - people won't be able to come back. And it'd be a waste of time to think that life wasn't fleeting and finite. It was for their prey, after all. There but for the grace of God. Et cetera.]
Ready to prepare for the next apocalypse, then? [he says with a small smile.]
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Yes, actually.
[And after a deep breath, she adds—]
And I'm gonna do that... by joining the Fog's followers.
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At first, he's angry. Why would she side with the force that brought them here against their will, turned them cannibal, caused them so much pain?
No, there has to be a logical reason for this. Is it a ruse? Is it for information? Maya's crafty, she's clever - maybe it's that. May as well ask and get it straight from the seahorse's mouth.]
Why? Is it to get more information about the Fog so we can go home?
[Because he hasn't given up hope. He'll never give up hope. Not as long as he breathes.]
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It'll be okay.]
There's... There's not gonna be a way to go home if something bad happens to Ryslig.
[She tries to keep her stare level and steady. There's no need to be ashamed, right?
She's doing this for them. For herself. For everyone.]
And if there's no way, then— I wanna make it better for us.
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He closes his auxiliary eyes, looking at her with the ones he'd had as just a human. No - he still was a human. Just a different sort of one.
He wouldn't like to be condescended to, so he does the same service for her and tells her what he thinks, though not as bluntly as he may once have done.]
I know you have a life here, but...I haven't given up yet. And personally I wouldn't be aligning myself with the force that brought us here in the first place to try and make things better. All the Fog has ever done for us is make things worse.
[He's hesitant to say she's "gone native", because that'll just cause a blow-up...but she has, hasn't she? Stockholm syndrome is something he's seen before. Hell, before the truth about DL-6 came out, he'd been a victim of it. But at least his had never involved a god, or something styling itself as one. Clarke's third law, and all that. Even after everything he's seen, even prior to Ryslig, he's still a skeptic.]
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I'm not asking you to give up. And I'm not asking you to trust the Fog Goddess, either— but I don't... know if we're entirely right about her.
And the only way we're going to figure that out is getting close enough to find the truth.
[Maya raises her hand to her neck, clutching her fingers nervously around the shell she's replaced her magatama with, rubbing it with the pad of her thumb.]
And that's what we do, right? Pursue the truth.
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You can pursue that truth without joining up with her, [he says.] Heaven knows I've chased down killers without becoming one myself.
So: is that what you're doing? Or is that how you're justifying it to yourself? [He fixes her with his four-eyed gaze.]
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How can you say that?
[She asks, quiet at first. But then she shakes her head, lowers her hand from her magatama to her chest, as if to gesture at herself.]
I am a killer now, Miles! Just like you, just like Phoenix, just like every other monster here! I've killed— it must be nearly a hundred people now, with or without justification!
[The more Maya talks, the more her voice raises, eyes narrowing.
She isn't mean. She's never been mean. But she hurts right now, and Maya's voice comes out unusually sharp, her eyes glimmering with all the emotion she's been holding back.]
And nothing, nothing is going to change that!
Not joining the fog god, and not going home, either! Going home isn't going to change what I've done!
[Her voice pitches louder, nearly becoming hoarse. Her eyes sting and she blinks hard, sniffling— but when she rubs her face, she knocks pearls from her cheeks instead of tears.]
Going home isn't going to fix me!
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Yes, we're all killers. No, nothing's going to change that. Is joining the Fog your way to assuage your guilt? To tell yourself that all that killing means something? That it's always been in your best interests the whole time, because it's her plan for us?
[The badge of his halo shines brighter. This is unfair of him, perhaps, but it's what he's thought about the Fog since he's arrived, and it's a betrayal coming from her specifically...but he doubts she'd listen as to why, right now.]
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It's always meant something!
[She takes a step forward.
Defending herself has never come easy. She doesn't even want to do it now. She can only defend others with any conviction— and to do it now Maya tries to convince herself she's defending more than just herself. She's defending Makoto, Dandy, Fidds and Marco— anyone who has been here for a very long time.]
Every. Time. I killed someone— every time! It meant someone else didn't die!
And sometimes that person who didn't die was me!
[More pearls clatter to the ground. All they're doing is frustrating her, getting in the way, reminding her of what she can't return to.
But she knows she has to ask for this power, preserve herself. If she dies to Ryslig too many times, then she'll never remember Pearl.]
You couldn't stop the poachers from taking my throat! Not you, not Dandy— not even me!
But all you can do is think about what the Fog God wants.
[Maybe it's the monstrousness— the selfishness and vanity of mermaids finally pushing Maya's negative image into the positive. Maybe it's the stress. Maybe it's because Maya has been holding these thoughts and feelings back for years.
But it gets her to ask something she'd have never had the strength to— never had the worth to— until now.
Maya chokes back a sob and manages—]
When does anything get to be about the things I want?!
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Is that really what you want?
Or have you succumbed to the will of this place and its alleged god so totally that its will and yours have become the same?
[Witnesses cry on the stand. Witnesses scream. Witnesses yell and pout and justify their actions to themselves and others. Edgeworth has never been moved before. He won't be moved now.]
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Of course, Prosecutor.
I've given up just like everybody else.
[It doesn't sound convincing. It doesn't sound like she's defending herself anymore, like there's any punch to her words. Maya's voice is tired, and it's no accident that it's tough to read what's going on in her head by what's on her face.]
It just broke me, you know? Sorry.
I'm not the person you knew before you came here. I'm not that strong. So—
[She raises her hands, not as much in a defensive position, but gesturing as if giving Edgeworth the entire argument, and shakes her head.]
You're right.
[And then she at least tries to turn to walk away, but there's no guarantee she won't stop at his next reply.]
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He spreads his wings, feathers quivering with some kind of emotion, as unreadable as her own, before he says:]
You are an adult; do what you want.
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That's right.
I had to grow up when I got here.
[And then she looks over her shoulder, face completely relaxed.]
And you missed all of it.
[Before she turns her head again and keeps walking.]
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Then he turns and walks the other way, jaw set. Even if she's given up, he hasn't. And this has further confirmed what he's already thought about the gods of this place.
He has a lot of things to think about. She'd come to her senses, in time.]