An outcry in the streets: the devils are up their nefarious tricks again, but this time they’ve gone too far! Recent enquiries have discovered that the devils of the Brass Embassy have been experimenting with a new technique: inserting harvested souls into the bodies of those who still have their own souls! They claim the treatment will enhance vigour and intelligence, but the patients (victims?) have reported bizarre side-effects. What could the devils gain from transferring souls? And what do the patients have to say for themselves?
Representing the prosecution against the Brass Embassy, barrister Vela Marek intends to find out.
This will be a reasonably short RP taking place at roughly the same time as the Shade Hunt, focusing on the trial of the Brazen Devil and his associates at the Brass Embassy. If you wish to join, there’s room for expert witnesses for both sides, jury members and even the lawyer representing the Devils in this case. Intrigue, skulduggery and hefty doses of bribery abound! If you have a character that could contribute to the story, register your interest in this Google doc: Vela Marek: Ace Attorney - Google Docs
edited by JimmyTMalice on 3/19/2017
The jury murmurs.
The judge grumbles.
The constable presiding as bailiff tries to memorize his line.
The Devilish Defendant sips his coffee and looks over his notes.
Question of the hour, isn’t it?
The Devilish Defendant leans back in his chair, glancing lazily over at the empty prosecutor’s table.
The trial is starting in two minutes and the reason the trial even exists has yet to have the decency to show up. Goes on like this long enough, it’d have to be postponed, or even cancelled.
Perhaps the Embassy had decided to deal with the issue more directly?
He adjusts his spectacles (devilbone frame, of course).
Looks back at his notes.
Flips out his pocketwatch and checks the time.
He’s getting paid a fair amount in brass for this. He wonders if he’ll still get his payment if the trial is cancelled.
Surely the Embassy didn’t actually send someone for Marek?
That’s just not fair.
What a terrible waste of his time.
There are souls he could be collecting- should be collecting.
The warm eyes turn from the papers to two figures waiting in the wings.
The Antioch glances back.
The Defendant winks over the rim of his cup as he drains the rest of the coffee.
The Antioch shows no response, negative or positive, but returns to talking with Persephone.
As the Defendant comes up for air, he exhales quietly, and rises from his chair.
Holding himself with cocksure grace, the Devilish Defendant paints the picture of the educated devil. The fedora resting on the table and the characteristically out-of-place suit mark him as a member of Hell’s legions, but the thin-frame glasses and the air of intelligent condescension that perfectly mimics that of the University students set him apart from the average soulhustler. He’s picked a fine body, if the rumors that devils can pass in and out of form as they please are true - young, lanky, clean-shaven, and just a touch feminine, he meets turning heads with the same slightly sultry gaze devils love to greet potential business partners (that is, those with souls).
He relishes, for a moment, in the looks gossiping humans throw him, then goes to grab more coffee.
He fills Marek a cup as well, while he’s there, dropping it off at the prosecutor’s table on his way back.
edited by The Atumian Sputum on 3/22/2017