savetheearth | 02 ✝ [handwritten/action; pen and notepad]

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02 ✝ [handwritten/action; pen and notepad]

I must be bloody well insane to think that this is going to work, but I suppose I really have no choice now, do I?

[Francis is scribbling some curvy cursive handwriting across a notepad; he was somewhat thankful that he always kept a notepad and pen on him, for emergencies. Though he hadn't thought he'd be needing it for an emergency of this nature...]

If anyone can actually see this, I need some help. I was out on the streets, walking from the coffee shop after my night classes were complete, and I was attacked by two men- one armed with a firearm, though I think it was filled with blanks. He fired a warning shot near me, but I don't see any evidence of a bullet hole anywhere.

They took my phone, they took my wallet, and they beat the ever-living piss out of me. I can't call for any authorities, I can barely move, and I'm a bit isolated here.

[As he writes, blood is dripping from his nose. Wiping it with the back of his hand, blood smears begin getting mixed in with his writing as it appears on the page, though he's not aware of it. He hardly thinks this is going to work, let alone show everything that shows up on the page, writing or blood.]

If someone could send the police... or an ambulance, or both, I would really appreciate it. Lord, this is why we need pay phones. I'm not even sure if anybody can actually see this... Ugh, Francis, of course they can't see this, you're writing to yourself in a notebook.

Well, in case this somehow actually works.

[Francis writes down the address he's located near on the notepad, along with some brief directions to his exact location, and then sets aside his pen, slumping back against the alley wall in frustration.]

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The fuck... Are you still conscious?

[Francis jumps a little when he hears his notepad actually talking to him. For crying out loud...]

I'm really not sure. You're talking to me over a notebook, which of course isn't even remotely possible. I could be dreaming right now. Or dead.

I could talk to you using my mirror but I think that'll be a little too weird for you right now.

There's the free clinic. It's the best place for any of us to use. I'll take you there.

Free clinic...? As much as I appreciate the offer, really I do, I'm going to insist yet again that I'm not one of 'us' and I don't want to associate with 'us'. Please, I just need an ambulance.

That you can hear me and respond to me means you are no matter what you wish for. But fine, have it your way.

Right... Look, I don't think this is something I can't go to the public facilities available in the city I just-

Well I had no choice, I don't have a phone, and of course they made all of the bloody pay phones obsolete. I still can't believe this actually worked, maybe they hit my head harder than I thought.

Too expensive to keep running a system that isn't being used that much, you know.

It's gonna be tricky to call an ambulance from where I am since I'm not close by.

Well I guess I'm really lucky that I had a pen and notepad with me, then, wasn't I??

[How can it be possible to put so much sarcasm down into written words. He wasn't even aware that he had it in him. Maybe it was because he was just extra irritated right now.]

I don't know... I suppose you're right. It would be odd trying to explain to them how you received information about my emergency and location if you were nowhere near me. I don't think they would understand how I could have access to a network but not a phone.

I guess so.

[yup, not biting at all]

Pretty much. There's probably a way I can get you to a hospital but then there would be a lot of awkward questions for both us unless I just so happen to find you while driving.

[Which was only mildly annoying...]

If you could just... pass this message along to someone else who might be in my area, that would be preferable. I appreciate the offer of help, either way.

In an emergency I'll really settle for any method of contacting some authorities.

I'll try.

[Nick sees this, but as soon as he reads it through enough to see that the man has written down his location, he doesn't bother replying.

He's still pretending that he isn't a cop on the network, as much as he can, so there's no reason to broadcast to everyone that he's a police officer and he'll come to help right away.

Instead, he just drives over, parking nearby and then walking slowly towards the address, scanning for any sign of someone injured. When he spots a man leaning against an alleyway, he stops.]

Hello? I'm Detective Burkhardt, are you all right?

[Francis is sitting on the ground, back pressed up against the alley's brick wall. In one hand is his pen, pressed to a notebook resting on his leg. The other hand is gripping his side in pain. He's quite beat up: a black eye, a bloody nose, several cuts across his face and hands, and that's of course not counting the damage that is underneath his clothes.

When he hears a voice Francis nearly jumps out of his skin, pen falling out of his hand and clattering to the ground. He looks up at the officer and groans a mixture of relief and terror.]

Really, does it look like I'm alright??

[Despite himself, the corners of Nick's mouth twitch upwards in an almost-smirk, though his tone is carefully neutral.]

Of course not. That doesn't always stop people from telling me that yes, they're fine, and I should just mind my own business. Let me call an ambulance, and you can tell me what happened.

... You have a point.

[He stares down at his notepad, which was still swarming with text and images and, dear god, actual noise... Nervous that the cop might not be associated with this whole strange debacle, and perhaps just for the sake of his own sanity, Francis shuts the notepad roughly and stuffs it away in his pocket.]

I was mugged by... two young men, wearing dark hoods. I didn't get a good look at their faces, but I think one of them might have gone to the university...? The other, I don't think did. They took my wallet, and my phone...

One of them- the one I didn't really recognize- had a gun, but I think it was full of blanks. He fired a round but...

[He looks around himself, straining a bit as he tries to sit up higher.]

There are no bullet holes.

[He notices the notebook, of course, considering that's how he found the man, but for the moment, he doesn't draw attention to it. Unless this was somehow related to the network, Nick doesn't want to out himself as a cop on the network.

Instead, he dials 911, giving his name and their location with a brief explanation and a request for an ambulance. Then he hangs up, turning back to the man.]

They took your phone? That could actually be good, we might be able to use it to track them.

Nick crouches down as he listens, looking the man over and doing a brief assessment of his injuries. Nick's had first aid training, of course, since he's often a first responder, but unless it's something life threatening, he'd prefer to leave it to the EMTs.]

Blanks? Have you ever heard a gun being shot before?

As long as I can get it back, then sure, it's a good thing, yay. It was a smart phone- an LG Optimus Black if that helps.

[Francis shifts a little as Nick crouches down. It doesn't seem anything's broken, or at least he doesn't think anything's broken, but he is bruised to all hell and still bleeding.]

Hah, in person before tonight? No, never. Maybe I'm not the best person to ask when it comes to guns. I'm really just guessing based on what I can see, and perhaps trying to keep myself from having a panic attack about the whole ordeal.

Do you still need help?

[He's planning to head down that way if he doesn't get a reply, but it's best to check first.]

[Francis was waiting for an ambulance to arrive, thanks to a helpful detective who just 'happened' upon him... While waiting he decided to return to his notepad, despite the fact that it made his head hurt just thinking about how this worked.]

Physical help calling for an ambulance? No. Psychiatric help, however? I could use some, if you have any references. I must be hallucinating this notepad thing.

[Miles does check to be sure assistance was given, since he sees Aaron has responded, it would appear the person will be taken care of as far as injuries go.]

Once you are more recovered if you wish for a lawyer's assistance with this matter feel free to call my office.

[Below this Miles has typed in the address of his law firm and the phone number and email at which an attorney can be reached.]

[Well this certainly was the last sort of response he expected to get! Was this whole magic network some weird way of advertising random services like legal help?]

Well, I'm not exactly sure I'm the one who's going to be needing any legal assistance. Assuming they can catch the people responsible for attacking me, I figured it would be a matter left up to the city. The perpetrators are the ones who are probably going to be needing some assistance.

And I don't believe I have the energy to get caught up in filing any sort of lawsuits. I'm not even sure who I would be filing a suit against in this situation.

[There was also the fact that he was not American, and not as interested in suing whenever something unfair happened to him, but he thought that would probably be rather rude to bring up...]

[Well, even network people need someone who knows the weirdness and can help with all the legal issues that could come up.]

That is fine, I'm just making sure you know someone on the network can handle such matters if there are any special circumstances that may be involved due to you having a number.

Oh, you mean... Haha, bloody hell, I didn't think about the legal consequences involved with having access to a magic network. Has anyone gotten into any serious legal trouble yet just by association? If so, I may just be saving your number, Mister...

I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name.

A girl was indeed arrested and is now missing because the police did not follow due process of the law. There have also been people who have been questioned over things they have met up with because of being a part of this. Some have also had friends and family attack them and had to use lethal force in self-defense.

And the name is Miles Edgeworth.

[Upon reading his rather frightening statement about a missing girl, Francis is immediately ripping out a piece of paper from his notebook and copying down his name, number, and the name of his law firm. He has to slow down a little to read his own handwriting, which was still difficult for him to recognize, since it had somehow completely changed overnight... He stuffs the piece of paper in his pocket for safe-keeping.]

Well thank God my family is all overseas, then. You can't be serious, though, lethal force? Who would kill a friend or family member, even if they were being brutally attacked?

I really appreciate the warning, and the offer, Mr. Edgeworth. You said you were an attorney?

Where are you? Have you gotten help yet? I can get an ambulance for you.

I've gotten help, thank you. And the fact that you're talking to me through a notepad right now and I'm not hallucinating this...

I think I have to apologize for what I said to you before. About not believing any of this nonsense. It's still nonsense, but I'm starting to think there's more truth to it than I was willing to admit before.

That's quite all right. I wasn't sure what to think about it at first, either.

It took giant scary bugs and magic notebooks to really convince me that something's not right here... In fact I'm still not sure if I'm just in one really terrible coma or something. How did you come to realize that all of this is really and truly happening?

People were getting hurt.

[ And he's a doctor. It's the reality he knows better than anything else. ]

Oh.

[Francis gives a bit of an awkward pause as he contemplates that. That was a much nobler reason for getting over a bit of stubborn skepticism than the ones he just listed.]

I'm not very... attentive when it comes to things like that. Perhaps because I often don't find it any of my business. I suppose it's not the best attitude, but it's the one I'm most accustomed to.

You're also not a doctor.

Not a doctor of medicine, no. But that really means nothing. From what it sounds like, your attitude dictated your career, not the other way around.

My occupation doesn't really say much about my attitude towards helping others, either way. I just consider myself a die-hard cynic.

Well... yes, I suppose.

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02 ✝ [handwritten/action; pen and notepad]

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handwritten; ugh late responses i'm so sorry

video {iphone} no worries :3

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