![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[untitled AA crackfic]
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Characters: Apollo, Athena; minor Trucy, Phoenix, and Edgeworth
Word count: 726
Warnings: EXTREMELY DOPEY
Notes: Asked some bros for writing prompts, someone said "snowman," this dumb bullshit happened. (Man, it seems absurd to me now that I was ever known as primarily a humor writer. It seems absurd that I used to write MOSTLY this kind of thing. Dang.)
“Aren’t we a little old to be goofing off in the snow?” said Apollo, struggling to pull his wrist free of Athena’s grasp.
“It’s therapeutic!” she said. She had Mr. Wright’s arm in her other hand and was marching implacably toward the door. “Goofing off in the snow has a proven effect on mood and creativity. We’ve all been through a lot of stress lately, so we are making snowmen.”
Mr. Wright said, “This sounds like an elaborate excuse -”
“I can cite sources,” she said, and shoved them out onto the doorstep. Apollo was pretty sure you didn’t get to manhandle your boss and senior partner like that, and started to tell her as much - “And it’s also an elaborate excuse.”
“Daddy! Polly!” Trucy bounced on her heels in a foot of snow. “Athena actually convinced you?”
“‘Convinced’ isn’t really -”
“Come on,” said Athena, “I want to see some snowmen, pronto!” But then she immediately turned aside, tapped a few keys on her phone, and said, “Mr. Edgeworth? I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Wright. You need to come over. There’s been an emergency.”
“No there hasn’t,” Mr. Wright shouted toward the speaker - a fraction of a second too late, as Athena hung up.
“What was that about?” said Apollo.
“What are you doing with his number in the first place?”
“I said it was therapeutic, didn’t I?” Athena shrugged. “That guy has serious issues. Ooh, I should call Simon too -”
Mr. Wright quickly grabbed her phone and stuffed it into his pocket. “I’m not going to let this snowball into hosting a block party for every legal professional in the state.”
“Oh,‘snowball!’ Nice one, Boss.” Athena turned to Apollo expectantly.
“No.”
He hadn’t built a snowman in years, actually, so his snowball-rolling technique had gotten a little rusty. But it all came back. And maybe Athena was onto something - it was somehow satisfying, rolling out and arranging the parts. He’d found just the right sticks for the arms, and Trucy had carrots on hand for any white rabbits that might emerge from any hats. Not to brag or anything, but this was a great snowman. He made a minor tweak to the angle of the nose, and then turned around proudly to display his creation.
And came face-to-chest with some icy behemoth in an elaborate Japanese costume, also sculpted from snow. (It had legs. Who built snowmen with legs?) “What is this?”
“The Steel Samurai,” said Mr. Edgeworth.
“I helped,” said Mr. Wright.
“Right,” said Apollo, feeling a little deflated. He stepped around the Snow Samurai, figuring at least he’d look better by comparison to whatever Athena and Trucy were up to.
Wrong. “I thought we were building snowmen, Athena.”
“I was multitasking!” She flashed him a victory sign. “Building things with your hands is relaxing, and so are dolphins. So building a life-sized orca -”
“I get it.” He turned to the last installation in this impromptu sculpture garden and sighed. “You, too, Trucy?”
“I made Mr. Hat!”
“How is that even standing?”
“A magician never reveals her secrets.” She beamed. “So what did you make?”
“Uh… you know what, never mind.” It would have been nice if someone had warned him this was going to turn into an art contest. But maybe, with Athena involved, he should have guessed.
“Apollo’s contribution is the Platonic ideal of Snowman,” said Mr. Wright.
“I’ve never seen a Platonic ideal in person before,” said Trucy, and hurried over to examine it.
“It was that or call it a post-postmodern commentary on the transience of youth,” Mr. Wright said under his breath. “Nice snowman, Apollo.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” said Athena, before he even noticed she’d wandered over and started using his shoulder as an armrest. “But it might be missing something.” She bent down and picked up two handfuls of snow. Then she put them on top of the snowman’s head.
“Horns?” said Apollo. “Is this a demon snowman?”
“No,” said Trucy, “they’re your little bunny-ear hair spike things!”
“Now it’s perfect,” said Athena. She grabbed hold of Apollo and Mr. Wright again and started steering them back into the office. “But do you know what the next phase of treatment is? Hot cocoa for everyone!”
She was definitely making that part up. He didn’t call her on it.
Characters: Apollo, Athena; minor Trucy, Phoenix, and Edgeworth
Word count: 726
Warnings: EXTREMELY DOPEY
Notes: Asked some bros for writing prompts, someone said "snowman," this dumb bullshit happened. (Man, it seems absurd to me now that I was ever known as primarily a humor writer. It seems absurd that I used to write MOSTLY this kind of thing. Dang.)
“Aren’t we a little old to be goofing off in the snow?” said Apollo, struggling to pull his wrist free of Athena’s grasp.
“It’s therapeutic!” she said. She had Mr. Wright’s arm in her other hand and was marching implacably toward the door. “Goofing off in the snow has a proven effect on mood and creativity. We’ve all been through a lot of stress lately, so we are making snowmen.”
Mr. Wright said, “This sounds like an elaborate excuse -”
“I can cite sources,” she said, and shoved them out onto the doorstep. Apollo was pretty sure you didn’t get to manhandle your boss and senior partner like that, and started to tell her as much - “And it’s also an elaborate excuse.”
“Daddy! Polly!” Trucy bounced on her heels in a foot of snow. “Athena actually convinced you?”
“‘Convinced’ isn’t really -”
“Come on,” said Athena, “I want to see some snowmen, pronto!” But then she immediately turned aside, tapped a few keys on her phone, and said, “Mr. Edgeworth? I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Wright. You need to come over. There’s been an emergency.”
“No there hasn’t,” Mr. Wright shouted toward the speaker - a fraction of a second too late, as Athena hung up.
“What was that about?” said Apollo.
“What are you doing with his number in the first place?”
“I said it was therapeutic, didn’t I?” Athena shrugged. “That guy has serious issues. Ooh, I should call Simon too -”
Mr. Wright quickly grabbed her phone and stuffed it into his pocket. “I’m not going to let this snowball into hosting a block party for every legal professional in the state.”
“Oh,‘snowball!’ Nice one, Boss.” Athena turned to Apollo expectantly.
“No.”
He hadn’t built a snowman in years, actually, so his snowball-rolling technique had gotten a little rusty. But it all came back. And maybe Athena was onto something - it was somehow satisfying, rolling out and arranging the parts. He’d found just the right sticks for the arms, and Trucy had carrots on hand for any white rabbits that might emerge from any hats. Not to brag or anything, but this was a great snowman. He made a minor tweak to the angle of the nose, and then turned around proudly to display his creation.
And came face-to-chest with some icy behemoth in an elaborate Japanese costume, also sculpted from snow. (It had legs. Who built snowmen with legs?) “What is this?”
“The Steel Samurai,” said Mr. Edgeworth.
“I helped,” said Mr. Wright.
“Right,” said Apollo, feeling a little deflated. He stepped around the Snow Samurai, figuring at least he’d look better by comparison to whatever Athena and Trucy were up to.
Wrong. “I thought we were building snowmen, Athena.”
“I was multitasking!” She flashed him a victory sign. “Building things with your hands is relaxing, and so are dolphins. So building a life-sized orca -”
“I get it.” He turned to the last installation in this impromptu sculpture garden and sighed. “You, too, Trucy?”
“I made Mr. Hat!”
“How is that even standing?”
“A magician never reveals her secrets.” She beamed. “So what did you make?”
“Uh… you know what, never mind.” It would have been nice if someone had warned him this was going to turn into an art contest. But maybe, with Athena involved, he should have guessed.
“Apollo’s contribution is the Platonic ideal of Snowman,” said Mr. Wright.
“I’ve never seen a Platonic ideal in person before,” said Trucy, and hurried over to examine it.
“It was that or call it a post-postmodern commentary on the transience of youth,” Mr. Wright said under his breath. “Nice snowman, Apollo.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” said Athena, before he even noticed she’d wandered over and started using his shoulder as an armrest. “But it might be missing something.” She bent down and picked up two handfuls of snow. Then she put them on top of the snowman’s head.
“Horns?” said Apollo. “Is this a demon snowman?”
“No,” said Trucy, “they’re your little bunny-ear hair spike things!”
“Now it’s perfect,” said Athena. She grabbed hold of Apollo and Mr. Wright again and started steering them back into the office. “But do you know what the next phase of treatment is? Hot cocoa for everyone!”
She was definitely making that part up. He didn’t call her on it.